Hi guys! Sorry for the 2-month delay between chapters. I've been insanely busy and have had a really rough couple of months. But I fully intend to finish this story (preferably by the end of the year), so please bear with me and keep up with the reviews! I promise there'll be a payoff and that I will finish this story. As usual, thank you to bugging killer, Hyphenman, and Gyltig for reviewing my story. I am glad you liked my creative choices with the bonding ceremony and some of the little world-building elements I've added. Really makes the small additions and nuances I add feel really worth it when they're spotted.

This chapter is unique! It is written from three perspectives - Gregor's, Calvin's, and then Luxa's. This really is the beginning of the end.

Chapter 45: The Road to War

Gregor thrust his hand into the gauntlet, bristling with the raw energy of a shackled beast. His heart skipped a beat at the thought - for a second, he felt a pang of guilt from the intoxicating satisfaction of feeling his body inhabit this… this vehicle of war.

But then, for the first time in a long time, he let himself off lightly - it was only natural to feel that primal growl in his chest when he put on the suit of armour. There was nothing in the world like donning it - and perhaps it was okay to register the slightest hint of morbid pleasure when feeling the cold metal close ranks around his body. What really mattered was that he was still in control of his impulses, even when his impulses sought to rip their chains off.

Gone was the sweeping but impractical cloak - it was simply a piece of black armour. Miravet had patched it up as only she could do. Once a target of derision by Ripred, there was something simple but emphatic about it now. An undulating sheen of ebony, as brutally black as a starless night, uttering a singular sentiment to the perpetual darkness of the Underland.

Death was coming.

And as much as Gregor acknowledged, and even respected, the need for this message to be delivered, he also knew that this wasn't his mantle to carry. This wasn't who he was born to be. Deep in the dark recesses of his heart, he understood that this was his last voyage together with the Warrior. He picked his helmet up gruffly, unfazed by the weight of its scars and stories. As he gazed down through its visor and into its bottomless soul, he and the Warrior were finally united by a common belief once more.

They would not go down without a fight.

"You look different," Miravet said, shuffling slowly up to him. The sprightly spring in her step had become a laboured amble and her face was more haggard than a storm-battered flower. But Gregor could still see passionate defiance and strength rooted in her eyes, even if her body now creaked and groaned in her silence.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When I first dressed you in this armour," Miravet replied, "you were a child. I could see the fear in your eyes."

Gregor looked at himself in the dusty, stained mirror. Behind the faded scratches and the blurry splotches that dotted his portrait, Gregor could just about make out the small twelve-year-old boy hiding behind the clouds of war and pain, staring back at him through the storm of an uncertain future.

"And now?" he asked Miravet.

Miravet almost seemed to smirk. "I see no fear."

The boy seemed to disappear into the mist of yesterday's memory. Gregor found himself clenching his hands, feeling an electric current surge through his body as he heard the crunch of metal. He was ready to meet his destiny, without fear of tomorrow. There was only here and now.

"Miravet..." he began, but felt himself faltering. He could not find the words he needed to say.

"Save your words for those who truly need to hear them," Miravet said kindly, her voice barely more than a dull croak. "You take care, boy."

"Thank you," Gregor said. Of all the words in the world he could muster, none would ring truer than those two.

"Watch over Luxa," she added.

"Always," Gregor replied.

Miravet reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair neatly into place. "Fly you high, Gregor the Overlander."

"Fly you high, Miravet," Gregor replied, though his steely voice almost caved in from the emotion that weighed down on him.

Almost as soon as Miravet had shuffled out of the room, Howard showed up. "I doubt you will have need of this," he said, handing him a small bottle.

"Why wouldn't I need painkillers?" Gregor replied, eyeing the bottle.

A wry smile crossed Howard's face. "I suppose I assumed you would be inflicting most of the pain, instead of bearing it."

"I'm flying into the heart of the schemer base," Gregor said. "And if Sandwich's prophecy is right, I'll have to fight two ragers."

"If it is any consolation, I would put my money on you," Howard replied simply.

Gregor allowed himself a bitter chuckle. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I have one more gift for you," Howard said. "I have left it with Apollo."

"What is it?" Gregor asked.

"A hamper," Howard said, the slightest hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I have put food and water in for your journey."

Gregor could instantly tell that Howard wasn't trying to contain a smile - he was trying to force one, to push through the veil of sadness that now draped over them both.

"A hamper," Gregor said slowly.

Howard nodded. "Gregor, if anything happens to you or Luxa… I want you to know that I would have led her down the aisle."

Gregor took a few seconds to register what Howard was saying. "You mean…"

"I am sure you remember what I said to you all those years ago," Howard said, his words soaked in melancholy. "In the years since, I have come to change my mind."

"You said we couldn't be together," Gregor recalled. "You said it just couldn't happen."

"Maybe I was right," Howard said firmly. "But even if I were, who would I be to stop you two from being happy? Luxa is a sister to me, and you… you are a brother."

Gregor looked down, feeling his heart sink deeper into his stomach. He tried to speak but found his words chained to his tears. As they welled up in his eyes, Gregor finally summoned the courage to look up at Howard. Howard's eyes were a glimmering well of regret and foolhardy hope.

"The hamper is my blessing," Howard continued. "Come back alive."

"She said we couldn't be married," Grego said bleakly.

"Who can truly tell?" Howard replied. "It was more than a decade ago when I thought I had seen the last of you. Look where you are now."

Gregor sighed. "I'm not sure we'd be able to find happiness here, even if we came back."

"I suppose you will only know if you try," Howard responded quietly. His words seemed to linger in the air longer than usual.

Gregor reached out with his hand. "Thanks for the hamper, Howard. And for what it's worth… I've always seen you as the older brother I never had."

Howard glanced down at Gregor's outstretched hand, and then reached out to grip it. Before Gregor could say any more, his friend had pulled him into a bear hug.

"Fly you high, brother," Gregor heard Howard whisper fiercely.

Gregor closed his eyes as the tears began to overflow once more. "Fly you high, brother."

"Be careful with the charges," Mr Bennett said. "You don't want to end the fight before it starts."

"I'm not that stupid," Calvin shot back dismissively, but Mr Bennett was right. His bag was packed to the brim with explosives - any mishit button or slip-up could cost the lives of every Underland inhabitant. He would become the bringer of hellfire and brimstone for thousands of innocent lives.

He placed the bag gently on the ground and turned to face Mr Bennett. "Anything else?"

Mr Bennett's eyes, for a brief second, seemed to twinkle like Vikus'. The old caretaker sighed into a smile, then allowed his tense shoulders to slump down for a brief respite. "I was thinking," he said, "you look just like your dad."

The words almost bowled Calvin over like he was a rag doll meeting a wave of raw ferocity. Growing up, no one had ever said he looked like his dad - everyone had said he had his Mom's eyes, or her smile… even Richard Oberton had been the purveyor of these sentiments himself. When Snake had said he was Calvin's father, it sounded absurd but not beyond the realm of possibility. Even now, despite considering Richard his dad, he still wondered if biologically he wasn't actually Richard's son.

Until now.

There was no point wondering anymore - nobody would ever know for sure. It's not like Calvin would scale mountains of hospital and medical records to find out who his real father was. He was fighting for everything Richard believed in. Richard would live forever through him - as long as Calvin breathed, so would his father. Calvin would always be Richard's son.

A new legacy, but a continuation of the same story.

"Take care, Calvin," Mr Bennett said, opening his arms up for an embrace. As Calvin fell right into it, he felt like he was back home again - in his bed, tucked under his blanket, far above and away from the war. He could have stayed wrapped in warmth and love forever, hiding away from the fire and death that roared on the other side of the earth.

But he knew he couldn't hide forever.

He let go of Mr Bennett. "You okay up there?"

"I told the police you were traveling and there was a break-in," Mr Bennett said. "They're still investigating the kidnapping of the Walkers, but when you return you won't find police tape all over the house. You'll be able to come home and sleep well."

"If I return," Calvin said darkly.

Mr Bennett shook his head. He placed his hand on Calvin's shoulder.

"Hope, Calvin."

The sound of paw steps echoed down the corridor, and Mr Bennett turned to register the new presence. He took a step back, and Calvin's eyes shifted over to the figure at the doorway. Lapblood nodded quickly at Mr Bennett, and then approached Calvin. Once again, Calvin's heart rate picked up, but a couple of quick breaths suppressed the rising anxiety.

"I will see you again," she said simply.

"Do rats believe in an afterlife?" Calvin asked.

"No," Lapblood replied bluntly. "But the thought that this is not our final goodbye… is nice to hold on to."

It hit Calvin like a comet crashing into the earth - that this was possibly his last goodbye to everyone. He suddenly felt sick in his stomach, like he was lurching between being in the present and a thousand miles away. His breaths became that bit shorter and more ragged, and his chest felt like it was tightening with every second

Lapblood had clearly picked up on it or had sniffed out his anxiety. "Calvin…"

"Hope, I know," Calvin replied, taking a long, deep breath to steady himself. He looked up to meet Lapblood's gaze. "Hope."

He took another deep breath, feeling his body shudder with fear and then come to a complete standstill from the painful realisation that this might just be it. "You know, just hypothetically speaking," he said slowly, "if this were the last time we'd see each other, I'd tell you that I wouldn't be here today, or who I am, if not for you."

He felt the emotion swell but he kept going. "I'd tell you that I owe so much to you, and… and… I'm so grateful for everything."

He paused, and then quickly added, "Just hypothetically speaking, of course."

Lapblood's smirk slowly morphed into a sad, contemplative smile. "Well," she replied, "if this were goodbye for good, I would tell you that I have become far more fond of you than I would like to admit."

She sighed, and then continued. "And it has been an honour knowing you… all hypothetically speaking, of course."

The two of them allowed their words to be steeped in the gravity of the ensuing silence.

And then Lapblood spoke.

"Fly you high, Calvin the Overlander."

A whirling montage of snapshots from Calvin's time in the Underland swirled around him. Talking to Lapblood on the boat trip down the Waterway. Fighting together in the jungle, then in the Schemer Tunnels, and then at the walls of Regalia. Seeing her again at the Arch of Tantalus. Having her guide him out into the arena for his bonding ceremony with Hecate. Somehow, at almost every step along his journey through the Underland, Lapblood had been there.

This would not be a final goodbye. He would see her again, in the flesh or in his dreams.

But until then, there was only one thing left to say.

"Run like the river, Lapblood."

"Why, Luxa?"

Luxa could not bring herself to face him. She adjusted the bracelet on her wrist, feeling it coil tighter than usual.

"This is not your battle to fight," Hazard continued. "You are a queen."

The bracelet now felt like it was biting into her wrist with its icy steel jaws. She removed it and was about to hurl it aside… but she checked herself. She placed it gently on the table beside her.

They were in her room, mere minutes away from embarking on their flight to war. This was supposed to be the hardest moment - saying goodbye to everyone she loved. She was now finding it incredibly difficult, but for a very different reason. Hazard had spent the last few minutes ranting to her about her choice to fly into battle and the weight of responsibility that now lay squarely on his shoulders. She could not bring herself to respond to the accusations, or questions, or pleas. It was as if her words were afraid of their own shadow - that once they were uttered, she would waver in the commitments she had made.

It was unfair to place this burden on Hazard, but she too had been faced with power and responsibility years before she was truly ready to. He would have to do so too, if she did not return.

Except this was not a case of the wrong person being thrust into a hotbed of political chaos. Hazard had all the support he needed to succeed. If she could win this war, he would be rid of his greatest challenge even if it was at the expense of her life. But most of all, Regalia needed him. Someone born far beyond the reach of war and without a taste for violence. Bloodshed was a Regalian vice, but Hazard was not Regalian.

Regalia needed renewal - it needed a good heart on the throne so that new lifeblood could course through the city. Luxa may have once been that hope, but Gorger made sure that wasn't going to happen. Here she was, armed with a sword as sharp as her tongue, on the precipice of battle.

She second-guessed herself every day from the moment the crown was placed upon her brow, even if she had made a concerted effort to suppress any show of weakness. Every single day she had to fight her own doubts - they were a shadow that lingered in the background, waiting for the opportunity to remind her that she had failed her people. That she had failed her parents. That she had failed Gregor, Ripred, Aurora, Howard, and everyone she cared about. Every single decision she made had become yet another shadow that took up space in her life.

Every single decision, until she decided to make Hazard her successor.

"Your duty as queen is to survive… to be a pillar of strength for your people."

Hazard's words cut through her moment of contemplation. She could not hide behind a curtain of silence forever.

She was still the queen, after all.

"My duty is to protect Regalia," she corrected him. "I must ensure this war is won."

"At the cost of your life?"

Luxa swallowed down her fear. "At the cost of my life," she affirmed.

"I am not ready to rule, cousin," Hazard sighed, falling back into the armchair. "I am a Halflander."

"A Halflander whom Regalia and the Fount have sworn allegiance to," Luxa pointed out. "A Halflander who has the support of the gnawers and the fliers. A Halflander who speaks the tongues of almost every Underland creature I know."

When Hazard didn't reply, she continued.

"You may not have been born to be a king, but you have grown to become one. You are Hamnet's son, but you are not your father. You are exactly what the Underland needs right now."

Hazard looked up at her. "You speak as if you will not return."

Luxa hesitated. "I do not know what will come to pass."

When Luxa met his gaze, she found his eyes a glassy, emerald sea. She walked over and gently cupped his face. "We will meet again," she said. "I promise."

Hazard's tears slowly rolled down his cheeks. "Honour that promise," he said fiercely.

She pulled his head in and rested it gently against her. They remained in that position, her standing over him while he leaned forward in the armchair and pressed his forehead into her abdomen. She gently stroked the back of his head. He was the brother she never had. How could she say goodbye to someone she had loved as her own?

A gentle knocking on the door interrupted their unorthodox embrace. Hazard got to his feet and faced the door. "Come in," Luxa said.

The doors swung open and Susannah stepped in. "The plan is in motion. Gorger is on his way to the schemer base as we speak."

"Very well," Luxa replied, trying her best not to let fear slip into her voice.

Susannah saw right through the masquerade. "Come here, Luxa."

Suddenly, Luxa felt like she was six again. She inched over to Susannah with small, tentative steps. As she approached Susannah, her aunt wordlessly pulled her into an embrace without a moment's hesitation. When Susannah eventually spoke, her words bore a solemn finality to them.

"Your mother would be so proud."

Luxa pulled out of the embrace, but clasped her aunt's hands, desperately clinging on to every last second of physical touch she had. "My mother would have wanted me to be a queen, not a soldier."

"Your mother was bound to say many things," Susannah replied softly. "But I know her well, perhaps better than you did. If there was one thing she wanted you to learn before your time as queen, it was to be true to yourself. She did not live to witness that, but you are everything she wanted you to be. You fight for what you believe in, Luxa."

Luxa had to stifle the tears welling up in her eyes. "Remember me favourably."

"We all will," Susannah replied. "History will remember Luxa, the Warrior Queen. They will write of your heroic return, leading a triumphant resistance against those who sought to destroy us."

Luxa laughed lightly. "That is a cruel jest, my dear Aunt."

"It is a hopeful dream," Susannah replied. "We await your return eagerly, your Majesty."

They hugged each other again. Luxa closed her eyes, allowing her senses to capture that moment - Susannah's shallow breath, how she smelled, the warmth of the hug… Luxa did not intend to fly into battle without the sensation of love seared into her memory.

"Fly you high, Luxa."

Luxa couldn't say the words in return - she was too choked up with emotion. She couldn't afford to start crying now - she could not allow a split second of doubt to seize her. "Are they ready to fly?" she asked Susannah.

"They await your presence in the High Hall," Susannah replied.

She felt someone patting her back. Turning around, she found Hazard standing behind her with an outstretched hand. Sniffling slightly, she took it with her left hand, while Susannah clasped her right hand. Together, they led her out of her room and down the winding corridors towards the High Hall.

Just before she stepped into the open space, she paused. She glanced at Hazard on her left and then at Susannah on her right, giving their hands one last squeeze. She didn't want to let go, but she had to. Taking a deep breath, her fingers unwound themselves from theirs, and she stepped out.

A small group of soldiers were running through the final preparations and checks, ensuring that everything was in place. Calvin was already mounted up on Hecate, bearing no armour besides a black vest. Ripred was pacing up and down, evidently restless and ready to take off. Aurora seemed fidgety as well - she was shifting from foot to foot, resembling a stone tower teetering on the brink of collapse. Lapblood and Queen Nike had joined this small contingent, but they were only here to say goodbye - their place in this story belonged on a different battlefield.

When Ripred noticed her, his restless pacing ground to a halt. "Ah, good late day my bond," he said. "You are right on time - Gorger is a couple of hours ahead of us. I trust you've said your goodbyes."

"Most of them," Luxa said ruefully.

"Not to me!"

Luxa turned around to find Howard and Gregor entering the hall. Gregor donned his black armour, but the absence of a cloak was glaringly apparent.

Howard made a beeline for her and wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Take care, cousin," he said softly.

Luxa pulled out of the embrace and looked up at him. "You know what must be done if I do not return, do you not?"

"I do," he said. "The arrangements for the statue are already in place."

She sighed. "Thank you Howard… I could not do this without you."

"I will not pretend to understand what madness has driven you to fly to war," Howard replied earnestly. "But in my heart, I know I will see you again. Perhaps one day you can explain to me why this had to happen."

"Perhaps," Luxa replied, her tone tinged with the bittersweet acceptance of her predicament. "Howard, should I fail to return…"

Howard shook his head. "Save it for the return," he replied with a sad smile.

When she didn't reply, he sighed and continued.

"You would not tell me anything I do not already know or feel."

A half-smile played on her lips. "I am glad," she said. "Thank you… for everything."

"No," he said. "Thank you. Fly you high, cousin."

"And you, cousin," she replied, and they both embraced each other one last time.

Luxa made her way over to Gregor and Ripred, who were in deep conversation. "Anything I need to be aware of?" she asked.

"Not quite," Ripred replied. "We were just observing that the old has to go for the new to flourish."

Luxa didn't know how to respond.

"You made the right decision, pup," Ripred said gently. "If we don't return, which is more likely than not, the Underland needs leaders whose first instinct is not to declare war."

"He is just a boy," Luxa replied mournfully.

"He is a man," Ripred corrected her sternly. "And he represents the Underland's future. Even if we succeed, there is no telling whether our existing alliances will persist. Our hope lies in our leaders' ability to seek diplomacy rather than blood."

"He is just a boy," Luxa repeated herself. "I too believe he is the right leader… but I worry for him."

"He has the support of all our allies," Ripred pointed out. "He is backed by Susannah and Howard. And there's one more important thing he has."

"What would that be?" she asked.

Ripred smiled. "He was raised by Hamnet and you."

Was that a compliment?

By Ripred?

Ripred seemed to enjoy her surprise. "You did well, your Majesty," he said, his teeth bared into a devilish grin. "Hamnet could not have chosen a better person to leave his son with."

"You have chosen a good day to turn sentimental," Luxa replied.

For once, Ripred was not armed with a riposte. He simply chuckled and left her words hanging, trotting off towards Apollo.

Luxa turned to Gregor. She stared at him blankly for a few seconds, unable to turn her feelings into words. It was Gregor who spoke first.

"I'll be with you… to the end."

She offered a nod in response, reaching out briefly with her hand. Her fingers brushed against his for a couple of seconds - the most intimate action she could muster in this time of war. He understood, though. He responded with a warm smile, which Luxa instantly recognised as a mask for his own fear and anxiety. He then walked off to clamber on top of Apollo, whom Ripred was already lounging on.

She now turned her attention to Nike and Lapblood. "Are our forces ready?"

"They are," Lapblood replied. "We will do our best to keep their forces occupied."

"If we succeed," Luxa said, "there will be an explosion unlike anything you have ever seen or heard before… or at least that is how Gregor and Calvin describe it to me. When you see it, you must retreat immediately."

"We will," Nike assured her.

Luxa sighed. "We can only hope that the schemers who survive may be agreeable to a peace."

"It is wishful thinking," Lapblood agreed, "but hope is all we have right now."

Luxa nodded. "Very well," she said. "Fly you high, Nike. And run like the river, Lapblood."

They returned the greeting, and that was it. All farewells had been said.

As she mounted Aurora, an acute blur of everything and everyone that had led her to this point rushed before her eyes.

Flying on Aurora for the first time.

Hearing from Vikus that her parents had lost their light.

Escaping from the nursery with Henry.

Being crowned queen.

Watching Gregor enter the arena with Boots.

Henry's betrayal.

Fighting for her life, and Boots', in the tunnels of the Labyrinth.

Being rescued by the nibblers in the jungle.

Promising Hamnet she would not let Hazard become a soldier.

Uttering the Vow to the Dead in the darkness.

Gregor telling her that he owed the nibblers everything because they had saved her life.

Fighting with Ripred, Aurora, and Howard in the Firelands.

Her first kiss with Gregor in the museum.

Watching the rats overrun the palace.

"Luxa, sorry but one of us has to live. I love you, Gregor."

Bonding with Ripred.

Saying goodbye to Gregor.

Overseeing the Border Wars with the cutters.

Marrying Conrad.

Learning of the schemer invasion.

Cradling Temp as he died.

Standing up in her seat as Gregor landed in the arena.

Thinking that she had lost him for good.

Standing amidst a city in ruin, victorious but broken by loss and betrayal.

Crying as Vikus' body sailed down the Waterway.

Hearing Stellovet claim she had slept with Gregor.

Kneeling over York as his light slipped out of her hands.

Listening to Conrad's dying laugh as Perdita brought her blade down on his throat.

Declaring a peace treaty with the rebel gnawers and the schemers.

Bidding farewell to Nerissa.

Announcing Hazard as her successor.

It had been a long journey of loss and love and everything in between. You couldn't take a single thing away from her - every mistake, every triumph, every breath had shaped her to be who she was and who she would be. She owed as much to the intoxicating euphoria of success as she did to the stinging rebuke of failure. Her agony was her strength, her love was an abiding column of light against the cold dark.

She looked back at everyone who had gathered to bid them farewell.

Hazard, whose distant expression revealed the chasm growing between them.

Howard, his head tilted up, looking sturdily hopeful.

Susannah, who was no stranger to farewells but was clearly still devastated.

Lapblood, a veteran hardened by war and loss, her face set with grim resignation.

Nike, her cheerful demeanour chipped away by anxiety, leaving a nervous disposition.

In the back, Luxa could see Hero, Kent, Miravet, and Mr Bennett.

And still further back, Luxa thought she saw the vague silhouette of a girl who once only existed in her dreams, but who now lived in the same time as everybody else. Standing next to her was a tall, broad-shouldered man, a broadsword resting against his hip. And behind them, a pair of twins whose children would one day both sit the throne.

The silhouettes of the past disappeared as soon as they had appeared, but they were a comfort to Luxa. She was more sure than ever before that the footsteps she followed were those of her predecessors. Vikus was right. It was hope, not flame, that brought light to the Underland.

"I will fly when you are ready," Aurora purred.

Luxa gently patted her bond's back, ruffling her fur. "I am when you are too."

Aurora sighed deeply. "I will follow you, Luxa," she said. "To the end."

Luxa did not feel the urge to thank her. They were long past that.

Her bond launched them into the air, and suddenly Luxa felt herself dangling between the realities of space and time. This was it. There was no going back.

She looked to her right to find Apollo and Hecate soaring through the air as well. They were flying through the eye of destiny's needle, but they were not doing it alone.

Luxa looked back at the palace, unwilling to let her farewells become a distant memory. She could just about see the small figures of her friends and family still watching them fly off. For a split second, Luxa had absolute clarity on how they were feeling. In this space they would stay - always looking through the sheen of darkness for each other, until Luxa returned. If Luxa returned.

No, she thought to herself. In the depths of the Underland, there was no place for hypotheticals, for doubt, for uncertainty.

She would return home one day, one way or another.

And that's a wrap! This chapter is written as a farewell in many ways - some characters may not be seen again (at least not to the same degree). As for which characters those are, I leave you to figure that out. Hope you guys liked the touch with Howard's hamper for Gregor.

Please leave a review! We're down to the last 5 (?) chapters.

Question: Who or what gives you hope (both in life and in the TUC-verse)?