A Peaceful Beginning

The chamber still smelled of dust and mortar, the air heavy with the silence that had followed Redson’s revelation. Gregor felt the weight of it pressing on his chest, the enormity of secrets suddenly laid bare. And then, breaking the stillness with the calm strength of a queen, Luxa stepped forward.

With quiet determination and gentle authority, her voice carried in the half-lit chamber.

“Redson,” she began, her eyes unblinking, “I believe you. I trust you as a loyal servant of your fellow gnawers, and I trust you as a faithful friend of Prince Gregor and myself. I trust you to begin following a plan that I believe Prince Gregor will agree to as a beginning. We both want peace too.”

Redson’s ears shifted forward, his great head lowering in acknowledgment.

Luxa’s words fell steady as stone. “Do not tear down any more of this wall, but clear an opening large enough and suitable for a plain-looking wooden door—one that only you, Gregor, and I will be able to open and close. My workmen will install the door when you are ready. Have your workers enlarge this chamber into what will become the Chamber of Peace. My workers will build a second door behind me from the tunnel that leads into the Chamber of Peace. In the beginning, only you, Prince Gregor, and I will meet here in secret to plan for the creation and maintenance of a lasting peace and in preparation to respond to all our enemies…some of which you spoke.”

Gregor glanced at her, his heart tightening. He could see the risk she was taking—trusting a hidden son of Ripred, trusting the mingled company of creatures that stood silently waiting in the dark. Yet something about the resolve in her voice steadied him. She meant this. She believed it, and so would he.

Luxa continued, her tone firm: “We will build a door from the tunnel entrance behind me that only Prince Gregor and I can open and close. We will build the Chamber of Peace together and begin meeting here in absolute secrecy. Find two or three trusted mice so we can send messages to each other when any of us need to meet here.”

Her violet eyes gleamed with command. “Hide three trusted guards at a time to watch this entrance day and night so no one can find it or break in if they do—two guards to fight, and one to run to you with the call to bring more defenders. Allow no one to enter here but trusted workers to work, especially before the door from here to the outside is complete. Do not allow any to come from here through our tunnel to the palace.”

The crawlers rustled, the bats shifted their wings, and even the fireflies seemed to dim their light in reverence to the moment. Redson bent his head low, his scarred muzzle brushing near the stone floor.

Luxa continued, “You must know that Prince Gregor returned to us in peace, not as a warrior. As one who was a warrior with your father, he knows the meaning of peace, of a meaningful and lasting peace, not just a peace between battles and wars. He came to be the Peacemaker in our world, a peacemaker to Bats, Crawlers, Nibblers, Gnawers, Spinners, Fliers, and even Cutters. He is Prince Gregor and he is also our Peace Ambassador. I tell you this here, to all of you, in secret, for the Council must not know of us or our plans until the time is right.”

Luxa’s voice softened, though no less resolute. “Prince Gregor and I will leave now and meet you here again tomorrow evening for our first secret meeting for peace. The first secret meeting of the Peace Council. I know from your near death experience that you know what ‘secret’ means, and we do as well. In the beginning, our peace meetings must be hidden. Goodbye until tomorrow. Prince Gregor and I trust your judgment and your faithfulness.”

Redson’s eyes shone with something more than torchlight—pride, perhaps, or the fierce echo of his father’s conviction. “It will be as you say, Queen Luxa. By my life and by my father’s name, this chamber will be guarded and prepared as you direct.”

Gregor stepped closer, his flashlight beam catching the worn ridges of the rat’s scars. “Then tomorrow,” he said quietly, “we begin something Ripred always wanted.”

A murmur rippled through the gathered creatures—no shout, no cheer, but a low thrum of agreement that carried more weight than noise ever could.

Luxa turned, her cloak brushing stone as she motioned toward the tunnel behind them. Gregor followed, his heart beating fast with both fear and hope and an unspoken question, “Why did she keep calling him Prince Gregor? He was not a prince, and his only goal was to bring peace to the Underland.”

Behind them, the workers began to move again—not to destroy, but to build. Each stone shifted with new purpose, each wing and claw working toward something unseen in the Underland for generations: war averted and a peaceful beginning.