~ PANDORA

After meeting Gregor and talking about Damien, Pandora didn't feel hungry. She worked all day, running messages around the palace for the Fount refugees. She delivered blankets and meals and torches, working without breaks. She never felt tired or overwhelmed. Just one duty and then onto the next.

It felt good to keep busy. It kept her mind off everything else. There was never a lull in the errands that needed to be ran, and the Regalian officials who were assigned by Vikus to oversee the Fount refugees really counted on her.

It was well after dinner when one of the officials gave her some advice. "You should get some rest. No one is expecting you to deliver messages or tend to needs until after breakfast."

"It's breakfast time already?" Pandora asked with a smile and a shake of her head.

Nerissa wasn't in her quarters when Pandora entered, but it didn't matter. She headed straight for her bed. She was more tired than she thought, and soon fell asleep.

"Now cracks a noble heart," Pandora heard in the far reaches of her mind. It was dark... wherever she was. If she was in a cave, she couldn't tell. She didn't feel anything and couldn't see two inches in front of her face.

"Ripred?" Pandora tried to call. Her voice was silent. Was she sure she had said his name out loud? Or did she just think it?

"Hamnet was hands down the best warrior among the humans." Unfeeling and unseeing, Pandora decided to just listen to Ripred talk. "Everyone assumed he would take control of the army after his mother, since he seemed just like her. But as it turned out, he was as much like Vikus as he was like Solovet. And so he was doomed..."

A scene faded in from the blackness, a breeze causing the foliage around Pandora to shake and rustle. In front of her was a field, whose plants had been destroyed – stamped over by thousands of feet and covered in some kind of purple jelly-like substance.

A few creatures banded together on one side of the field. Pandora's view of the scene slowly and smoothly moved across the field towards them, as if her view was through the lens of a camera.

An Underland girl, an Overland boy, and a large rat with a scar on one eye collected around a fallen Underland man, who was severely wounded. Blood poured from his gaping wound in his stomach, forming a pool around him which mingled with the torn plants and strangely-colored substance beneath him.

The Underland girl seemed unafraid; she stooped closer to the man's side, her legs underneath her getting covered in blood and purple goo.

"Judith... Judith..." the dying man whispered.

"Yes, it is Judith," the girl soothed him. She took his hand. "I am right here."

The man stared into her eyes and pleaded, "Hazard... promise me... he will not be... let him be... anything but a warrior."

"I promise." The scene started to fade into the blackness again. As Pandora entered the unfeeling darkness, she heard the girl continue to talk. "Hamnet? Hamnet?"

Pandora realized she was starting to wake up. It was all a dream, her conscious started to realize. As she stirred, she thought she heard someone else whispering.

"Please... please let him be anything but me."

Once Pandora had a moment to herself, she brought her moleskin journal to the Prophecy Room, wanting to shed some more light on why her dreams were centered around Gregor recently. More specifically, why they were centered around him being a rager and the warrior.

With both her private journal and her dream journal in hand, she made her way to where Sandwich carved his prophecies. She would reread all her prophecies that mentioned the warrior against his, comparing notes and seeing what she was missing.

Pandora arrived at the only room in the palace that was off-limits to most of its inhabitants to find that she wasn't alone.

"Gregor?" she said to him, confused to see him, of all people, in the room with the wooden door closed.

"I wanted to be alone," he rasped. "You should go..." He rubbed his temples with his fingers and scrunched up his face, as if it pained his eyes to look at her.

"What's the matter? Are you feeling okay?" She asked, taking a step closer.

"Its... I'm," Gregor tried to find the right words to respond.

"It's alright, Gregor. I think I know what's going on now," Pandora said calmly.

"I need help," he said. It was like he was forcing out the words, using every ounce of his energy and free will to communicate with her.

Pandora closed the door so they could have some privacy.

"You know," Pandora said, "you keep telling everyone you're here to control your rager sense... that you don't want to be a part of anything." Her goal was to keep talking and try to distract Gregor, almost like her friends did for her when she had a bad panic attack. "Everyone knows that. But no one knows when you're planning on leaving... or if you're planning on leaving. Do you want to know what I know? I don't believe you came here solely to learn how to be a good rager."

Gregor looked up at her questioningly. He seemed too focused to answer, but at least Pandora knew he was listening. His hands curled into fists and then reopened at his sides.

"You see, I've been having some strange dreams these past few nights. Nerissa and I have this theory that I see visions of the future and dreams of the past. They end up being extremely realistic. I'm sorry if this comes off as a little creepy, but did you happen to know two rats named Fangor and Shed?"

Gregor neither shook nor nodded his head, although his eyes lit up with some sort of recognition.

"And were you there when Luxa's Uncle Hamnet died?" Gregor cocked his head to one side, so she figured this meant 'yes.'

"I actually came to the Prophecy Room today to try and figure all of this out. Why am I dreaming all of this? What haven't I figured out yet? So, I'm glad you're here. You're the person I'm trying to figure out... who better to be present when I'm trying?

"Now that I think more about it," Pandora continued, "they all have a common theme. In my most recent dream, you say you want Hazard to be anything but you. In the dream with the two rats on the beach, you say to me 'Run, Overlander.' Now... why would you call me an Overlander when you're one, too? That sounds like something an Underlander would say to me. I have this theory that you're not just here to get a grip on your extra sense. You're here because you don't know who you are."

"What do you mean?" Gregor asked quietly. He was bent over with his hands on his knees, but he looked much more relaxed.

"Who are you, Gregor? What are you? Do you still consider yourself an Overlander? If you choose to stay here, does that mean you're an Underlander? Are you a New Yorker or a Virginian? What do you love? Music? Science? Who are your friends?" Pandora paused. "The reason why you came back was to rediscover yourself. You're lost, Gregor. Not like the-earthquake-caused-a-rock-slide-and-now-we-don't-know-where-we-are kind of lost... do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I do," Gregor said, straightening his back and standing up. He looked at her right in the eyes and Pandora could tell that the rager sense was back in the far reaches of his mind once again. "I know exactly what you mean. I've never thought about anything like that before. Now that you've mentioned it, I realize that all I've been is a bundle of nerves, scared that the rager inside me would jump out unexpectedly. I've been such an empty shell for so long that maybe my extra sense can easily fill what I've neglected to fill for myself."

"I'm not saying that figuring yourself out can magically give you the ability to turn on and off your rager sense at will. I'm just saying that it might make you feel better."

"Geez, I've gotta go find Ripred. I haven't talked to him one-on-one since before our picnic mishap. I want to hear his opinion on this."

"Just... don't mention that I put the idea into your head. I don't think he likes me all that much; he's not into the whole prophecy thing."

"I don't have to tell him that if you don't want me to, Pandora," Gregor said, a smile slowly growing on his cheeks.

"Awe, come here!" Pandora opened her arms and stepped closer to Gregor. She pulled him into a big bear hug. "You're great, you know that? If I had a brother, I'd hope he'd be like you!"

"Thanks, Pandora. For everything," Gregor said before breaking the embrace. "If you're right about this... I wonder if... what if Ripred rediscovered himself when he wandered around alone in the Dead Lands?"

"Only one way to find out. Oh, hang on just a second, Gregor!" Pandora caught Gregor before he speed-walked out of the room. She flipped through a couple pages in her journal. "I wanted you to read this. It's very quick, I promise. Just a few lines. I wanted to tell you about this earlier, but it didn't seem like the best time."

She held up the page so Gregor could read:

Rage rage increases rate

Over has an Under's fate

Meet him at the Reaper's Gate

See you have no time to wait

New ideas that you spurn

Come to light if evil churns

Take note, you will discern

Truth: the warrior returns

"Is this?" Gregor paused, looking up from the journal to see Pandora nodding her head. "One of yours? And it's..."

"It's real and it's happening now."

"Then after Ripred, I should talk to Perdita again. There's gonna be a change of plans."

"Good luck, Gregor the Overlander."

~ GREGOR

"Ripred," Gregor caught up to him in the hall. "I need to talk to you."

"Can't you see that I am busy, boy?" he growled back.

"Not really," Gregor said honestly. "This is important. It'll take just a minute. Can we go somewhere not so full of people?"

Ripred sighed. "I suppose I can spare one minute. Follow me."

Ripred led Gregor up a set of stairs, into the more royal parts of the palace. Gregor noticed he was heading towards the luxury room, and within seconds they entered an exquisite blue-curtained suite. Gregor didn't realize that this room was also forbidden to the refugees. He made a mental note to return whenever he wanted to be alone, preferring to lounge on one of the plush couches instead of on the cold, stone floor of the Prophecy Room.

"What is it?" Ripred asked, sparing no time. Considering how much more impatient he was than usual, Gregor guessed he really was busy. He carried no humor or sarcasm in his tone.

"What if my rager sense has gotten so bad lately because I've forgotten who I am?"

"What kind of a question is that? You're wasting my time."

"No, no. Really," Gregor said, begging him to stay. "Hear me out. I've been wanting to control my sense. And it's gotten to the point where all I can think about is keeping it held in. I haven't enjoyed a single hobby in years. I barely had any friends. All I had was my family and the farm in Virginia."

"What you are getting to is...?" Ripred hurried him along.

"I rediscover myself. I figure out more about me. Then I'll be able to control it."

"Gregor," Ripred began slowly, shaking his head. "Do you know why being a rager is such a rare thing? It is because most creatures cannot handle the mental load that is placed upon us. We must cope with the death we cause. We must cope with the suffering. We must accept the fact that we will be treated differently by our peers. Much of our energy is spent on our psychological strength, rather than our physical strength.

"Your friends didn't fade away because you lost yourself," Ripred continued. "They left because they could tell you were different. Your brain is tired, Gregor, as mine was when my rager sense was at its peak. You don't have time, or even the will, to want to pick up an old hobby. All my mind could do was think about being a rager. And so I walked. Everyday. Every waking minute. I distanced myself from everything."

"So, you didn't go into the Dead Lands to rediscover yourself?"

"What?" Ripred scoffed. "Where would you get a ridiculous idea like that? I wandered the Dead Lands to be alone and to think. That's it."

"That's it?"

"Yes, now if you excuse me, I have places to be and very little time to get there." Ripred started walking out of the room.

Gregor was stung by Ripred's attitude towards his revelation. Wouldn't the only other rager Gregor talked to be a little more supportive? Wouldn't he give Gregor some advice instead of just laughing at him? "I think you're wrong," Gregor said just before Ripred was out of sight.

Ripred's frame came to a halt. He backed up a few paces so his head was peeking in through the frame of the door. He had an eerie smile on his face. "Do you now? Prove it."

"It won't be the first thing I've proven since I came back," Gregor retorted.

"Oh? And have you had the time to talk to York since you've returned? Until then, I don't think you've proven anything."

"You'll see, Ripred," Gregor called as he continued on his way. "I'm gonna talk to Perdita right now. There'll be a major change around here. You just wait and see!"

"Glad to," Ripred called before he pounced down a flight of stairs.

Gregor immediately went to the war room and found Mareth sitting alone at the large table. "Mareth," Gregor called. "Is Perdita around? I need to talk to her again."

The general shifted in his chair to see Gregor. "My apologies, Gregor, but Perdita is with General Eurymedon. They're currently battling at the Reaper's Gate."

"Oh geez, I didn't think that was happening this quickly!"

"What other choices do we have, Gregor?"

"Well, we always have that plan we made earlier. The one Eurymedon hated cuz it actually takes place in Regalia." Gregor took the seat in front of Mareth.

"I do support that one more than the general's, but it seems as though whenever we butt heads, he gets the upper hand."

"He doesn't get the upper hand," Gregor scoffed. "He pulls rank. That's not very fair. His main argument is 'I've been doing this way longer than you.'"

"That may be true," Mareth admitted.

"Have you heard any news from them? What's it like? How're our troops?"

"I know nothing more than you do. It's quite frustrating. The only thing I can do is twiddle my thumbs."

"Is that a good or bad sign?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't overseen any battle this large before. In fact, I am not even overseeing this battle!"

"Hey, Mareth," Gregor consoled him. "You're very good at what you do, and there's a major difference in between you and Eurymedon. Solovet chose Eurymedon as a general because of war. Luxa chose you as a general because of peace. Remember that."

Mareth took a second to think about what Gregor had just said to him. A grin slowly ran up his cheeks. "Thank you, Gregor. You are right."

"Eurymedon's obsessed with honorable fighting... and the glory of winning a battle. But that's not how wars should be thought of."

"Yes," Mareth agreed. "We're only in this war because the cutters forced us to be."

"We fight to stop the fighting," Gregor said. He looked down at the table and then back up at Mareth. "We fight to stop the fighting," he repeated. "You know, I'm glad I got to see you before getting a chance to talk to Perdita again. It really helped me become 100% positive of what I'm planning on doing."

"I'm... glad I could help you. Just as you helped me," Mareth said with a puzzled expression. "What is it that you are planning with Perdita anyway?"

Gregor smiled. "You'll find out later. Don't worry, you'll be one of the first to know."