Disclaimer:

On a tropical island of the dead…
Henry: Hey, Ares, does The Real Mark own the Underland Chronicles?
Ares: …
Henry: Answer me, Ares!
Ares: Be quiet, Henry! You made me miserable enough in my life and you are NOT going to ruin my death! Now stop bothering me! *Ares lifts Henry in his claws, flies for a while, and drops Henry in the ocean* And of course The Real Mark doesn't own the Underland Chronicles! Suzanne Collins does! How dense are you? *Ares flies back to the island to hang out with Pandora and Thalia while Henry is left floating alone in the ocean*

And there you have it


Gregor felt like crying for several reasons as Andromeda beat her wings so fast they were a blur. For one thing, he was extremely happy to be returning to the Underland after months of dreaming about it. But he was also choking up because this flight reminded him strongly of all the times he had flown with Ares. While he tried not to think about his fallen bond, his subconscious kept noticing tiny differences in Ares' and Andromeda's flying styles, which drove his mind forcibly back to the huge black bat. Ares had been a really good person. It wasn't fair that he had died.

Then again, nothing in life had been fair to Ares. Perhaps the only really fair thing was that he could finally escape. Maybe death was the best thing that could have happened to him. After all, if Ares had not been killed by the Bane, he would have been left pretty much alone. Vikus couldn't talk, Luxa and Aurora would be extremely busy now that Luxa was basically queen, Howard would be working around the clock in the overstuffed hospital. And there was no one else who would really talk to Ares. Despite the recent appreciation some Underlanders had started to show his bond, Gregor knew it was only because Ares had saved many would-be rat victims at the battle in the Firelands, and now that the war was over, he was sure Ares would have had to suffer the silence again. Yes, maybe death was the best thing possible for Ares. Now he was not alone. Now he was safe.

Comforted with this fact, Gregor closed his eyes and thought about Luxa. It was now half-way through January. He hadn't seen her since mid-October. It was only seeing Hazard and Mareth again that made him fully appreciate how much he really missed her. Her smile, her laugh, her courage, everything about her, really. He wondered suddenly if Luxa would have to get married to provide Regalia with a future king or queen. Gregor didn't want to admitt it, but that's probably what would have to happen. Regalia needed a ruler. He had seen what it was like when no one was really sure who was in charge, and it could easily be described as chaos.

So Gregor stopped thinging about Luxa and thought about Howard, then Ripred, then Temp, then Dulcet, then Lapblood, then Vikus. His thoughts strayed one at a time to all of his Underland friends, alive and gone. And his thought about those who had died were purely positive, remembering happy things. No negative thoughts plauged him for the rest of the ride to Regalia.

When Andromeda shot out of the tunnel and zoomed toward Regalia, Gregor couldn't help but gasp at the sight of the gorgeous city. He hadn't seen it for months, and it was obvious Luxa had ordered some renovations. Scaffolds were set up along most of the walls, and there seemed to be an airlift of bats going back and forth carrying large bricks to crews of humans who were repairing buildings and roads. Since the streets were nearly clogged with people, Gregor could tell that it must have been the middle of the day.

Upon reaching the palace, Andromeda swooped down to land in High Hall. Once they had dismounted, she flew off again. Gregor assumed she was going to join the airlift.

"Where's Luxa?" he asked Mareth immediately.

"In the prophecy room. Come, we go to see her now."

Despite the fact that Gregor hadn't been to the palace in months, he remembered his way around perfectly. Sprinting ahead of Mareth and Hazard, he ran through the halls as fast as he could. All the people he passed pointed and cried out stuff like "The warrior!" "The Overlander!" and "He has returned!" Gregor paid no attention, letting his feet carry him through the corridors until he was outside the only wooden door in the entire Underland. It was shut. Should he knock? The knowledge that Luxa was on the other side of the door, waiting for him, gave him his answer. He pushed open the door.

There she stood. In the direct center of the room, looking at the ceiling. Silver hair, violet eyes, light blue gown, insanely pale skin, thin gold crown...she was beautiful. When he walked in slowly, not sure if he should hug her or not, she looked at him. Her eyes widened and a smile broke out over her face, making her even prettier.

"Gregor."

Then she ran at him and wrapped her arms around him like she would never let go. He hugged her back as tightly as he could, pressing his face into her silver-blonde hair, and with his left leg, kicked the door shut. They didn't move for several moments, and it was only when he felt his shirt getting wet that he realized she was crying.

Pulling back, he held her by the shoulders and watched the tears coursing down her cheeks with extreme concern.

"Luxa. Luxa, what is it? What's wrong?"

He had only seen her cry once before, on the Waterway, after Pandora died. It scared him to see her break down like this. She was probably the strongest person he knew, except maybe Ripred.

Gregor heard a flutter of wings and saw that Aurora was also in the prophecy room, standing at the opposite end.

"Luxa has been working very hard," said the bat. "It is much work for someone so young. Your coming is great relief to her. It is good to see you, Gregor."

"You too, Aurora." He directed his attention on Luxa again. Now that he studied her, he could see that there were deep purple circles under her eyes. She had not been sleeping well. And she looked much thinner. He suddenly knew that his life in the Overland, however hard it had been, was nothing in compared to what Luxa was going through as queen. She was only thirteen years old. It had to be too much for her. He had a feeling she put on a very good show for her people and everyone else in Regalia, but there had been a well of desperation and fear growing inside of her for months, and seeing him had finally broken the dam.

"Hey," he said, pulling her back to his chest. "It's okay. It's okay. You'll be okay."

She did not speak, but just wrapped her arms around him and wept. He stood there with her, rocking her gently, until she cried herself out and stepped back, drying her eyes.

"I have missed you," she said.

"Me too," he said. "More than you know. I'm so glad to be here." Then he remembered he had been brought down by Mareth, who had seemed so urgent and anxious for him to come down. "What's up? Why did you send Mareth to get me? I mean, I'm glad you did, I'm just wondering why. He seemed pretty worried."

"He has reason to be," said Luxa, frowning slightly as she turned away. "As do I. Come, Gregor. Look at this ceiling."

Gregor stood next to her and looked straight up at the ceiling.

"Do you see it?" asked Luxa.

"See what?"

"All of the prophecies above us are written in very small letters. But look at the way they are organized. Do you not find something strange?"

Gregor stared at the mess of words on the ceiling. He stepped back, squinted, walked around in a circle, and twisted his head to look at the prophecies upside-down. But he couldn't tell what Luxa meant.

"I don't see anything."

She sighed. "I suppose I do not blame you. Very few can see it. It was discovered by Nerissa, early this morning."

"What was?"

"The prophecies are laid out in such a way that if one looks at them objectively, they form words. And the words form another prophecy."

Gregor stared at her, then at the ceiling, then back at Luxa, then the ceiling agin. But he still couldn't see what she was talking about.

"Well, I don't see anything except a bunch of little prophecies."

She sighed again. "I thought you may not. I had Nerissa make something for you. Read you this," she said, and held out a scroll. On it was written a prophecy. It was short; probably the shortest of Sandwich's prophecies Gregor had ever seen. He read it to himself.

The Last Prophecy

When warrior himself kills with my blade,
When peace between gnawers and humans is made,
When young queen and peacemaker unified stand,
Our time is up in the Underland

All fliers and gnawers and crawlers must stay,
But humans prepare, 'tis your final day
Leave bonds and leave friendship, leave life and leave love,
It is time to return to the world above

Make for land of the warrior, land of the sun,
Your time here is spent, all duties now done
Leave darkness behind and in light again roam;
It is time again to call Overland home


And that is the end of chapter three. What did you think of my prophecy?
I'll put the next chapter up if I get five reviews; don't think that's asking a lot!
PS for you smart ones that means if you want to read more, review!!!!!!!!