Hey everyone! No reviewers to thank for this chapter, but that's okay and expected because I've now reached the end of my story. I hope you guys have enjoyed this journey - it's been such a wonderful experience and marking this as complete is a dream come true for me.

There will be a song played during a scene later in this epilogue. When the name of the song is mentioned, I invite you guys to listen to it as the epilogue (and this trilogy) ends. This is partly inspired by Gyltig's epilogue in "Gregor and the Overlander Invasion".

This epilogue is written from 2 perspectives.

Epilogue

Grace sat at the kitchen table, transfixed by the barely-visible scratch on its wooden surface. Her hands were clasped together, as they always were when she felt powerless. She wasn't the most devoted Christian mother around, but she wondered if some part of her prayed for a miracle whenever things went south.

It had been more than a month since Gregor had left her for the Underland once again. Each time she saw his back, she wasn't sure she'd see his face again. This time, he swore he'd come back to see her.

But as every day crawled by, she grew less and less certain he'd be able to fulfil his promise. The sun took an age to sink, and once they were shrouded in darkness, there was no hiding from fear. It stalked her windows and doors, occasionally creeping in through a strange draught, carrying the unspoken realisation of dread.

Gregor had never really been a kid, and yet he'd always been her little boy. Without her ever needing to talk to him about their financial situation, he understood that their family was poorer than most. And without either James or her asking it of him, he had always put the family first and looked after his sisters.

Well, until the day he'd left for New York.

In Grace's defence, there was so much she hadn't understood then. And honestly, there was still so much she didn't get about him. But she'd seen enough on his return to know that she never would, and they both had to be okay with that.

It didn't matter, after all.

She would always be waiting here for her son.

It was a quiet Saturday. The TV in the living room had been left on, and the news was running. Some old woman was yammering on about seeing aliens flying along the Jersey Shore.

Lizzie was probably playing chess with James in the living room - she was set to leave in a month for Princeton, which was another bundle of worries for Grace to sort through. The student debt, the distance… Lizzie had no idea what she was in for, especially since it'd only been a couple of months since the traumatic ordeal of being held hostage along with the rest of the family. Then again, maybe this was exactly what she needed - to escape from it all.

The police had been aggressive in their interrogation of the family, clearly perplexed and frustrated by the lack of answers or clues. The family had collectively agreed to tell a version of events that didn't involve the Underland, or Gregor, or Calvin, which left the police with a messy, and mysterious, mosaic of motives. It seemed like a squad of dangerous rogue assassins had held the family captive for no reason, and then been slain by a supernatural entity.

This entity had singlehandedly defeated two dozen highly-trained, elite, former SEAL operatives that were armed to the teeth.

None of this made any sense to the police. But the way Grace saw it, it wasn't her responsibility to give them a pretty picture of the events that unfolded. The family was safe for now, and that was the only thing that mattered.

Grace reached up to touch the purple scar on her cheek. Sometimes she wondered what her life would be like if James hadn't done the laundry that evening. Would they still be in New York? Would Gregor have gone to college? Would she have been happier?

So many questions, and yet she knew she'd never be able to answer them. She was just going to have to live with another world in her head.

She wondered if Gregor was thinking about home. He was all grown up, but she still worried about whether he'd been fed, how his sleep was, how scared he must be feeling… she didn't think she'd ever be able to stop worrying, even over the small stuff.

Especially over the small stuff.

There were countless other dangers he'd have to navigate, but based on what she saw the last time he was home, he was more of a danger to himself than others were to him.

The thought of him alone in a cave somewhere, wounded and cold, stung her heart. The tears she didn't even realise she had began to overflow, and she had to cover her mouth to muffle the sobs escaping her lips. She didn't want Lizzie or James or Boots to worry about her - after all, she'd been doing this for months.

She'd live… it was Gregor's safety that she wasn't so sure about.

But Grace would never give up hope. She'd always believe he was just a day away, no matter how long it'd be. She was sure some days would be harder than others, but what was left but hope when the world had taken so much from her?

Wiping her tears away, she got up to make herself a cup of tea. These were motions she had gone through countless times - the tears, the tea, the trance she entered as she stared into the abyss of the night in front of her. And then, knowing that the rest of the family needed her, the tired walk back to her room for a regular appointment with her nightmares. She didn't know when the pattern would end, but she hoped it was sooner rather than later.

She stared out into the moonless night. The clouds were rolling in as summer drew to a swift close. Before they knew it, they'd be wrapping themselves up for winter. The grass would turn a faded yellow, the farm would look bleak and desolate, and yet life would go on.

There was movement outside the house. Grace squinted, and despite her poor eyesight, spotted a red fox in the distance. It turned to look at her, its ears pricking up. And then it trotted away, followed closely by the most adorable baby fox, who scampered forward to catch up with its mother as they disappeared into the tall grass.

Grace sighed. To have that all over again…

The doorbell rang, its shriek snapping her out of her trance.

That must be the Andersons, she thought. Sometimes they came round to share some food if they had cooked up a big meal.

Grace made her way out of the kitchen with her mug of tea in hand. As she shuffled past her living room, she glanced over and saw Lizzie analysing the chessboard, with James equally spellbound by the battle in front of him. Allowing herself a brief smile at the scene, she ambled over to the door.

She placed her hand on the handle and, taking a deep breath, opened it.

Grace dropped the mug on the floor.

Gregor and Luxa stood before her, both of them bloodied and bruised. Gregor's left arm was in a sling, and so was Luxa's right arm. Two bats the size of cars hung from the apple tree in the background. They all looked like they'd gone through hell and back.

But that was the last thing on Grace's mind.

Her son had kept his promise.

"Hey Mom," Gregor said with a weary smile. "We're home."

Gregor leaned back against the headboard of his bed, and let out the deepest sigh of his life. Luxa snuggled up to him, pressing her body as close as possible, as if she was clinging to a raft at sea.

It had been a long and painful journey.

But here they were, at last.

It was always his plan to stage his death. He'd done it so many times over the course of his life, he figured it wouldn't be too difficult to pull off one last trick. But this time, Houdini wouldn't appear before his adoring crowd. This time, he'd disappear into the grey sea of mundanity, content to sail along the still waters of life.

From the moment he danced with Luxa across the High Hall, he knew this was what the prophecy called him to do. For the first time, he understood that Sandwich's words weren't a guidebook to be followed - it was up to the subject of the prophecies to make sense and meaning of his words.

Sandwich hadn't seen the future - he'd seen vague shadows and heard distant voices. The prophecies were his attempt to assert control over a world he didn't understand…

A world Sandwich had been frightened of.

And the moment that clicked for Gregor, he finally understood what Sandwich's words would mean to him.

It had helped that Luxa herself was ready to give everything up too. They both agreed that they weren't the right people to bring peace - for the cycle to be broken, everyone who had grown up in the age of war and steel had to go. So Gregor, Luxa, Ares, and Apollo had taken the elevator shaft up to the Overland, where Gregor reluctantly activated the detonator.

He felt guilty, of course he did - he was saying goodbye to friends, and a world that had made him who he was, for better or worse. But at the very least, he had said a proper goodbye to those who mattered. And that… maybe that… was enough.

The shaft had led up to a shelter in the middle of a forest in New Jersey - Gregor wasn't sure which one. This was the route that the mercenaries and the scientists must have been using to head down to the Underland. He knew it'd take a few days to get to Virginia, but they wouldn't be able to go anywhere if two massive bats were spotted flying through the sky. So they travelled under the cover of night, and away from any dense crowds - they'd flown along the coast and through cloud cover, before cutting across Delaware towards Virginia.

It'd been the most magical experience for Luxa - she hadn't seen anything like it. The green that stretched for miles on end was astounding, as was the sea and the sun. Her jaw was constantly agape, and her eyes the size of dinner plates. Gregor figured that's what he must have looked like when he first arrived in the Underland.

They were both badly injured - his plate armour had slowed the impact of the bullet but it had passed right through his bicep, resulting in heavy bleeding. Aurora was pretty banged up too, and Luxa was struggling with an infection. But thankfully, Luxa had brought the first aid kit with them, and having treated numerous injuries before, she was able to prevent any further complications from arising as a result of their wounds. Gregor's left upper arm, while feeling absolutely shattered, had escaped relatively unscathed - somehow, no major arteries or bones had been severed by the bullet.

It helped that Howard's hamper was full of medical supplies as well - painkillers, antiseptic, and much more. It wouldn't mend them completely, but it was a solid stopgap solution until they could receive better treatment.

When they'd arrived at his house, he'd braced Luxa for the tidal wave of shock that would come their way. His Mom, predictably, completely lost her cool when she saw him. She dropped her mug of tea and broke down into a fountain of tears as she held him close. Frankly, it had made all his wounds hurt even more, but he didn't mind.

It was his mom.

Then Lizzie and Dad and Boots all rushed out to mob him and Luxa. They were all so excited to see Luxa too - he was glad he could bring Luxa to see his home without any strings attached. Of course, the moment he stepped into the house his mom started fussing over them both, bringing them all kinds of medication and bandages and chiding them repeatedly for not taking care of themselves. In the end, he accepted a visit to the hospital, but only after he'd had a night in with Luxa to rest and recover.

In the meantime, as they sat down to have something to bite, Lizzie and Boots asked him to tell them everything that had happened. His dad had tried to help him out by telling them that he and Luxa were tired, but he felt he owed them a story about what happened, especially since Ripred had… Ripred had…

It was still difficult for Gregor to accept that Ripred was gone. Over the last few nights of flying, he'd heard Ripred's voice like a whisper in the wind, drifting in and out of both his waking and dreaming moments. He couldn't bring himself to remember how he'd lost Ripred.

But Lizzie had asked, and of all people she deserved to know.

It'd been painful to relive the whole thing, but he kept it as brief and clear as possible. It'd been a night of many tears, especially from Lizzie, but she seemed at peace with it. She said she had a sneaking suspicion he was gone - she woke up one day feeling like something was off, and had seen rats running about in the fields the whole day, when normally she'd only see the odd mouse here and there.

"He told them to watch over me, I guess," she said sadly.

Gregor didn't know how to respond to that. He could only hope that everyone else was fine - Calvin, Hecate, Nike, Hazard, Lapblood, Susannah, Howard… he hoped they were all fine. After devouring his Mom's snacks, he and Luxa excused themselves for the evening - the travelling had taken a real toll on them.

So here they were, lying in his bed. "Have you always had this scar?" Luxa asked abruptly.

Gregor glanced down at the crisscrossing lines that marked an X on his right arm. "I got it from the Vineyard of Eyes," he replied. "From the silver vines."

He paused. "Ripred asked me the same thing before we left Regalia."

Luxa reached out and gently stroked the scar. "Recall you the prophecy's words?"

Gregor shook his head.

Then Luxa whispered them to him.

"On soft feet, by none detected,
Dealing death, by most rejected,
Killed by claw, since resurrected,
Marked by X, two lines connected.
Finally, they intersected,
Two lines met, one unexpected."

"I don't get it," Gregor said, but it began to dawn on him.

"You were killed by Operation Claw, and have since been resurrected," she said softly. "Perhaps the intersection of the two lines refers to your bloodline and mine mixing."

"You think so?" Gregor asked incredulously. "You think that prophecy… is about me?"

"Maybe," Luxa said slowly. "Sandwich may have been referring to Ripred, or you, or someone else entirely."

"Or maybe all of us," Gregor breathed. He liked that interpretation - it meant that he and Ripred had something more in common besides being ragers.

"You have both brought peace to the Underland," she said. "To me, you are just as much of a Peacemaker as he is."

Gregor the Peacemaker.

He much preferred the sound of that.

"What is that?" Luxa suddenly asked.

Gregor followed Luxa's gaze over to the old record player. "Oh, that," he said. "That's a gift from my dad. He got it from a shop for one of my birthdays. It plays music."

Luxa turned to look at him. "That small thing? Where are the instruments?"

Gregor laughed. "Let me show you."

He rolled out of bed and hobbled over to the record player. He had a short stack of records sitting next to it, mostly old albums that his grandma had collected over the years. His fingers settled on Bob Dylan's Blowin' in the Wind, and he instinctively took the vinyl record out of its sleeve and put it on the turntable, aligning the centre hole with the spindle. Then he lowered the needle onto the record's surface, and limped back to the bed to join Luxa.

Bob Dylan's nasal voice rang out with the steady strumming of a guitar, giving Luxa a bit of a fright. "It sings!" she exclaimed.

Gregor smiled.

"How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?"

Gregor looked out through the window. The clouds had cleared and the moon was shining as brilliantly and magnificently as it had been the day he'd shown it to Luxa, before he'd parted from her for what felt like a lifetime.

"How many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?"

Gregor looked down at Luxa, whose eyes met his. He could see the stars in her eyes - he could spend a lifetime gazing at them and never yearn for more.

"Yes, and how many times must the cannonballs fly
Before they're forever banned?"

Gregor wondered how Hazard was doing. The poor boy must be so frightened and alone… but Ripred was right. He was a man grown. He'd negotiated a peace settlement with the foxes. There was no better person to lead Regalia, especially if he had Calvin to help him out. That kid had a heart of gold too.

"The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind."

Luxa now spoke. "The Overland is beautiful, Gregor," she said. "But I want to return to Regalia one day, if just to visit. I made a promise that I would."

"Yes, and how many years must a mountain exist
Before it is washed to the sea?"

"We will," Gregor promised her. "But we need to give Hazard time to get things right. If we go now… we could undermine his authority."

"We need to give him time to make mistakes," Luxa corrected him.

"And how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?"

"But you're ok being here for a while?" Gregor asked her.

"Of course," she said. "I cannot remember the last time I felt such peace."

"Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn't see?"

Gregor looked down at his left arm. He might never be able to use it to fight again, which meant his days as a Warrior – and rager – were effectively over. Sandwich was kinda right - the Underland no longer had any more ragers. But this didn't mean that he'd stop fighting for justice and what was right - he'd just have to find different ways to.

York's words echoed in his head once more - "You get to decide when all this bloodshed ends. All it takes is for you to put the sword down when it is over."

York was right - it was up to Gregor to decide.

"The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind."

Gregor had no idea what was next for him, or Luxa. He had no idea whether they'd just spend all day working on the farm, whether he'd ever be able to admit her to the hospital, and how they were going to house their two bonds. In a sense, all signs pointed to a return to the Underland at some point. Perhaps they'd live like Hamnet and his wife - away from the web of politics, and in their own little world where they could be whoever they wanted to be.

Apollo and Aurora were free to return to the flier colony, but both had been keen to stay with their bonds.

"Yes, and how many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?"

But in a sense, this was what living was about - not knowing. Uncertainty was what made life worth living - if his entire life had been plotted out by Sandwich, he'd have nothing to look forward to.

"And how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?"

He'd spent so much of his childhood learning how to die that he'd forgotten how to live. But for the first time, in a really, really, long time, he had hope.

He had hope for life.

"Yes, and how many deaths will it take 'til he knows
That too many people have died?"

And the Underland had hope too - Flavius had died with hope, but that hope hadn't died with him. By choosing not to return, Gregor had given Flavius' foxes a chance at being integrated into the wider Underland community. Regalia no longer had a figure of death and fear to strike into the hearts of its enemies - and it was better for it. If things went according to plan, his statue would be in the process of being dismantled, with its remains to be used in the building of the canal for the new fox and rat homes.

The Underland had hope for peace.

"The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind."

"We'll go home one day," Gregor reassured Luxa again.

She smiled at him. "I am home as long as I am with you."

Gregor kissed her on the forehead.

"How long can we stay here?" she asked.

Gregor strained his ears, listening hard for the ominous ticking of time.

But for once, he heard nothing.

Time was the prison of choice - but Gregor was finally free.

Gregor was finally free.

Brushing a strand of Luxa's hair to one side, he said softly,

"We have all the time in the world."

The End.

Hope you guys listened to Blowin' In The Wind during the final few lines of this story - it's beautiful in its simplicity and innocence, but I really think it encapsulates the same simplicity of choosing peace over war too. This epilogue was supposed to be split into 2 different "chapters", but I decided to combine it into 2 parts within the same "chapter" because I think it was more fulfilling and conclusive this way.

The seeds for this story's implication that Ripred hands over the reins of the Peacemaker role to Gregor were first set in Chapter 42 - Ripred notices the X on Gregor's arms. As for the X on Gregor's arm - it was mentioned after Gregor is scratched by the silver vines in Curse of the Warmbloods, go check it out! Whether Gregor is the new Peacemaker or not, or whether he's one of many, I leave that up to you… the whole point of Sandwich's prophecies is that they are open to the reader's interpretation, and likewise this story is up to your interpretation too!

I hope you have enjoyed this story - I have decided to publish an acknowledgements page, together with a mini essay on my personal interpretation of the prophecy and the themes in this story. That'll come right after this!

No question today - just wanted to say it's been an absolute privilege, and I can't believe I am finally done. If you have any questions for me, please feel free to ask them in the reviews or PM me!