Gregor And The Prophecy Of Doom (Book VI)

Chapter 13

She was quite a sight, as she had impossibly grown thinner than the last time Gregor had seen her. She looked almost transparent, especially with that startlingly white skin of hers, but she still managed a thin smile at Gregor. She hadn't gotten taller, for lack of sleep or lack of food, Gregor presumed. Perhaps both.

"It's wonderful to see you again Gregor." She said, gently touching his arm. Gregor barely felt it. Man, she is thin, he thought. Out loud he said: "Hey there Nerissa. How've you been?"

"I've been... troubled, overlander." She said hesitantly.

"Her dreams have gotten worse," Howard said worriedly, "sometimes she falls into a short trance right in front of a crowd, and in severe cases, she can barely discern the difference between reality and dreams. I would say 'troubled' is an understatement of your situation, Nerissa."

Egan was now pretty miffed. "But what am I supposed to do with the overlander's armor?" He cried, drawing everyone's attention.

"Gregor," Nerissa said calmly, "put your own protective clothing on, then put on the armor."

"You mean the vest?" Gregor asked, and Nerissa nodded. He did as he was told, putting the vest on first, then carefully adjusting himself to fit in the armor. It was a perfect fit. Not an ounce of pressure more was there in the midriff section of his body.

"Well," Gregor said slowly, "at least Nerissa's visions are all real."

"You can take it off now," Egan said, "I will have the smith painter give it a decoration for you." Gregor took the armor, and the vest off. He felt weird in the vest, but he knew it was a must-carry item in the Underland. Then he, Howard and Nerissa went out of the smithing chamber, and up the stairs to the level the court room was at.