Chapter Two
The Door

L, more commonly known as Lance, was having another one of his dreaded flashbacks of a dream. It started like it always did, with him prowling the edges of his former school, Ghestas School for Magical Males, then the triumph of finding the loophole in the security and slipping out.
Then his dream cut to when he was stumbling down the empty streets of the Big City, hungry and afraid. That's when he came into view, tall and sinister looking, his bald head shone in the sunlight, making it look like it had been polished and his gold eyes staring intently at Lance.
"You've got power," The man said, sneering at the bewildered Lance. "I'm the great Aetur, join me and I can unlock your magical potential."
It was too much for Lance to handle; he couldn't watch himself give in again and willed his dream-self to take a step backwards. He mind began to whirl, not liking that his mind was taking over the dream.
"N-no! I won't! You'll hurt me! Then you'll hurt my friends!"
"Friends?" Aetur smirked. "You do not have any friends in this world, boy."
Lance knew it was only a dream, but he couldn't bear it any longer, he wasn’t going to let this happen.
"YES I DO!" He yelled, fighting to control the dream.
Lance had tried countless times before, and he knew that this was the time he would succeed, THIS was the time he would find out the last clue he needed...
"You're wrong." His dream-self said in a low and dangerous voice.
“Oh?” Aetur sneered, looking down at Lance.
His muscles tensed, ready to run or fight or attack. But the man only laughed his hard and cruel laugh. Lance tried to lash out with his magic at the man, but he was powerless in his dream, as he always was when he tried to resist. He knew he had to run, He would wake up soon. HE NEEDED TO KNOW. He needed to know the answer to the only question that had plagued him for five long years, the question with the answer that could change the fate of Lance, his friends, and possibly the entire world...This could be his last chance to find out.
Lance broke free from the man's invisible grasp with a gasp, and ran for the large mansion he knew so well. He had reached the front door when he heard a voice from inside that stopped him in his tracks.
"I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!" It yelled. It was Tamara!
No doubt it was when she was stuck in the mansion, when she had been taken prisoner by Aetur.
This is all wrong! Lance thought.
He ran into the house, skidding down the hallways until he reached the door.
Lance hesitated, thinking about the tortured screams he heard while who knew what happened to Tamara. Tamara, his newest, closest friend. He shook his head in the dream. She wasn’t important at the moment. The important part was finding out what was behind the door.
He reached out his hand, fighting the force that told him wake up wake up!
Almost...There...Just a BIT...FARTHER! His fingers brushed the metal knob...But it all began to fade away. Then it was gone. Slipped right through his fingers...Again.
Lance drifted a bit, between dreams and reality. He thought about how he had missed the door, how his dream-self had not cared about Tamara. He would change that. He would make sure of it.
"WAKE UP!" A voice screamed, right in his ear.
Lance jolted awake with a small gasp.
"Thank goodness!" Tamara sighed, sitting back on her haunches.
She looked freaked; her eyes were wide and fearful and Lance remembered the screams from the dream.
"I thought you were like, in a coma or something!" She exclaimed.
He offered her a small smile but she didn't return it. This made Lance nervous.
"What's wrong?" He asked, suddenly tense.
"We've got company..." She whispered in a small voice.
"Alright girl, your boyfriend's awake, now get against the tree!" A gruff, male voice growled.
"She's not my girlfriend." Lance hissed as the freaked looking Tamara obliged.
But his face was red and he could just see that hers was too.
"Friend who's a girl, girlfriend, same thing." A bulky, ominous looking man snarled. "It doesn't matter either. She insisted she wake you and I thought, 'hey, he doesn't look like a threat, I'll let her do it'. So here you are, now shut up and get against the tree!"
Lance narrowed his eyes, but went to go sit next to Tamara.
"It's okay," He whispered, trying to be reassuring.
"And HOW exactly is it going to be 'Okay'?!?" She hissed angrily.
Lance glanced at her sideways. "Pretend like you're crying" he said out of the corner of his mouth.
"WHAT?!?" Shrieked Tamara.
"SHH! Not so loud. Just trust me, okay?" Tamara glared at him, but did as he said.
She let out a very convincing sob, and fell to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest, and hiding her face so their captor couldn’t see that there were not tears leaking from her eyes. Lance leaned down, pretending to comfort her.
"Okay." He said. "What I need you to do," he glanced quickly at the large man watching them. "Use your magic and make that rock float past him."
She looked at him dubiously. "Um...Why?"
Lance sighed. "A distraction!"
Suddenly, she understood. She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth, whether in concentration or to keep up their act, Lance couldn't tell. He could see the rock hovering...A bit higher, but then dropped at gasp from Tamara. She quickly covered it up with a sniffle.
“I’m sorry,” She mumbled. “I’m not very good.”
“It’s okay, try again.” Lance whispered.
Tamara nodded and tried again. This time the rock hovered higher, and began to float. By this time, the man knew something was up, and was keeping close attention on them. He didn't see the rock.
"BEHIND YOU!" Lance shouted, trying to get him to take his eyes off them for a moment.
The man sneered. "I can't believe you actually thought that would-"
He was about to say work, but was interrupted when the rock flew up and tapped him on the shoulder. Their captor whipped around, and squealed like a little girl as he saw the rock whizzing away. He was paralyzed in shock or fear or disbelief, and a moment was all they needed.
But then, just like in all crucial, life and death moments, something went wrong. Lanthe gasped again and collapsed, the rock fell out of the air and hit the ground hard.
"T-t-told you I wasn't any good at magic!" She moaned, trying to sit up.
"Magic?!" Their captor roared. "That's it!" He lunged forward and before Lance could do anything he snatched up Lanthe, holding her upright by her upper tricep.
She whimpered and stared at Lance fearfully. He looked back, trying to devise a plan.
"So close," He muttered under his breath.
"No funny business boy or the girl gets it." He lifted Lanthe up higher and she yelped.
"Funny business? Explain what you mean by funny business." Lance asked, trying to keep the man busy instead of hurting Tamara.
"No magic, no distractions, nothing, you'll come quietly like a good little captive."
Lance sighed. Unfortunately the plan hadn't gotten to the point where Lance was supposed to come in.
Wait. He thought.
That meant the man didn't know that HE had power.
"I don't HAVE any magic." He groaned dejectedly, not looking at the man. "I'm useless."
The man laughed. "Good. Now come on. You don't want to disappoint The Boss."
At that he let out another laugh that sounded like fingernails screeching down a chalkboard.
Lance flinched. "Now can you please put her down?" Lance pleaded, inclining his head toward Tamara.
The man dropped her unceremoniously onto the dirt, and she got to her feet, rubbing her arm where she had a large, red spot, then scrambled over to stand next to Lance.
She leaned closer to him, about to whisper in his ear, but the man said. "Oh, no, there's not going to be any more of THAT." He grabbed Tamara's arm and yanked her back toward him. "You are going to walk right there so I can keep an eye on you. And you," he said, turning with a suspicious glare at Lance. "NO tricks! And no whispering!" Then he began to walk.
Lance grinned. He loved henchmen, all muscle and no brain. But then the unthinkable happened. Just as Lance was going to knock the guy out he was hit from behind with the flat of a blade. He stumbled forward and collided with Tamara. She yelped and fell to the ground under Lance.
There was an evil laugh from behind him, no doubt the owner of the blade.
"Pathetic, the lot of them." He snarled.
Lance flipped off Tamara and onto his back. A blonde boy with eyes bluer then the sky looked down at him.
"Who... are... you?" He managed, trying to judge the damage to his head.
"Little Boss!" The henchman exclaimed.
The teenager scowled. "Just call me Heathcliff."
"Heathcliff," Lance muttered. "Where have I heard that name before?"
"I found da girl dat da boss wanted." The henchman yanked Tamara to her feet.
She looked nervously at Lance then at her feet.
"Very good, Groth. My father will reward you kindly. Now pass her over."
"NO!" Lance yelled, jumping to his feet, he pulled a knife out of his back pocket and faced the other boy.
He laughed a crooked, shrill laugh.
"You want to fight, do you? Well, I have no objection. Groth, stand back, and don't let her" he jerked his head toward Tamara without looking away from Lance "interfere. Let's see what you're really made of, shall we?"
Lance glared at him. Oh, I'll show him what I'm made of if he really wants to know, He smiled spitefully and took a step forward.
His eyes began to glow silver, as did the edge of the knife in his hand. They circled each other
Heathcliff yelled a battle cry and charged at Lance. Lance bent his knees, just as his instructor had told him to do. Then something struck his cheek, the glint of metal flashed in his line of vision for a moment. But Heathcliff was still a few feet away.
"Idiot," Heathcliff scoffed.
"Magic!" Lance exclaimed.
"Precisely. Now, do as I say or the girl dies. And I'm not stupid like Groth here, I know you have magic, in fact, I've sealed it. Go on, I dare you to try and use it."
Lance clenched his fists. He should have known someone would come along and ruin their escape. Even though Lance thought he knew what would happen, he shot a bolt of electricity at Heathcliff, but nothing happened. He tried again. And again. But each time, not a thing happened. Heathcliff hadn't been lying. Lance could feel the resistance when he tried to use his powers again.
"Fine." He said in defeat, trying to hide the knife in his back pocket.
"No, I'll take that." Heathcliff said, and Lance felt the knife being pulled out of his hand toward Heathcliff.
Lance sighed. "What do you want me to do?" He asked.
Heathcliff laughed again, and Lance suddenly Lance realized why he had looked so familiar...
"Y-you're HIS son!?" Lance cried out.
"Yes, took you long enough to find out, now come along, my father needs the girl. You'll be just the.... Extra present from me to him."
Lance looked down at the forest floor, defeated.
"Good, everyone needs to learn humility sometime in their life. Now march."
Groth pushed Tamara forwards, making her stumble and Lance lunged forward to help her but he stopped mid-step.
"Nah-uh-uh," Heathcliff tsked, wagging a finger at Lance. "You will stay back from the girl if you want to live."
"I have a name you know!" Tamara cried as she got to her feet.
Heathcliff continued walking as if Tamara hadn't spoken at all. Lance tried to hold in his anger. He stood rigid with clenched fists, and continued walking only when Heathcliff jabbed him in the back with the knife.
"Move." Groth said to Tamara, and angrily she quickened her pace, now in front of them all.
Groth looked back at Heathcliff questioningly, but Heathcliff only said with a slight shake of his head, "Leave her. It’s not like she can go anywhere."
Lance stifled a smile. If they were planning on Tamara being the perfect little hostage, they were wrong...Dead wrong.
Lance saw Tamara quicken her pace further. 'Don’t do it Tamara... Don't do it...'
She did it. Tamara broke into a sprint, running farther and farther away from their group.
"GET HER!" Heathcliff yelled.
Groth nodded and ran after Tamara.
"Stupid girl," he spat.
Groth came back moments later, holding a struggling Tamara by her shirt collar.
"Alive," Heathcliff hissed and Groth dropped her to the dirt.
She heaved for a little bit before curling up into a ball and refused to move.
"Why, Tamara, why?" Lance whispered sadly.
He had known she would try something like this. He sighed, and shook his head. Heathcliff turned to him with angry eyes, and Lance knew he had to be careful.
"You." Heathcliff said to Lance. He tried not to flinch at that all-too familiar tone of voice. "Make her walk."
Lance kneeled down beside Tamara, keeping watch on Heathcliff through the corner of his eye. "Now." He added, dangerously quiet.
"Tamara? Tamara, please get up.” He tried faintly.
Tamara shook her head and rocked back and forth slowly.
He tried again. “Tamara! This is going to get ugly really fast if we don't do what he says!" There was no reply, but the rocking had stopped. Lance was encouraged by this, and continued, "Please, Tamara."
She sighed in defeat, and unfurled from the ball, quickly wiping her eyes. She stood up, crossing her arms and glaring defiantly at Heathcliff and Groth.
"Good, now c'mon," Lance hesitantly took her hand and started to walk forwards.
"No, the girl will walk with me," Heathcliff snarled. "You can go with Groth. And Groth, don't be afraid to use force on this one."
Tamara gripped Lance's fingers tighter, turning her knuckles white and making him wince in pain.
"None of that." Heathcliff said, narrowing his eyes. "Unless you want you’re... Friend to die here."
Tamara looked at Lance, the pain and fear in her eyes was hard to miss.
"Last chance." Heathcliff said, taking a step towards the two.
Lance nudged his friend and she nodded but didn't look too happy about it. She let go of Lance’s hand and took a step towards Heathcliff. Heathcliff smirked and tied Tamara's hands behind her back with a small piece of rope. Lance walked slowly toward Groth and offered him his hands. He felt a rough piece of rope being tied around them. At a grunt from Groth, he continued walking, glancing back to see that Tamara was also.


* * *


They reached the mansion of Heathcliff's father without any interruptions. The place was just as Lance remembered it from the last two times he had been there. Groth pushed him forwards into the main hall of the mansion and onto the floor. Tamara fell next to him. Her eyes were wide with fear and nervousness.
"Ahhhhhh, well if it isn't the little rebel boy and the powerful young girl. Welcome back." Heathcliff's father smirked and pulled Tamara to her feet.
Lance growled and bit his tongue before he said anything stupid. Tamara scrambled to her feet and stood next to Lance.
"Aetur." Lance said coldly, his voice hard and angry. "We meet again."
Aetur laughed. "Come with me. There is something I'd like to show you."
Lance huffed in annoyance. "Like we have a choice." He said so only Tamara could hear.
Aetur headed down the hall with Tamara and Lance hesitantly following. He turned left...Then the second right...Lance began to breath harder. They were almost there... To the place he had tried so hard to reach...Tamara looked at him with concern.
"Are you okay?" She whispered.
He nodded quickly, and continued to walk, a little faster. Aetur walked forward, nearing the end of the hall where the old, gray door stood, its brass knob gleaming faintly in the dim light. They were almost there....But then he turned left, into a door Lance had never noticed before. It must have been added after Lance escaped. With a sigh, he followed Aetur inside.
Lance heard Tamara's gasp and turned to look at her. She too had seemed nervous by the other door. He tried to give her a reassuring smile but she seemed a little to freaked.
Then he turned back towards Aetur. Bad mistake. Lance was flung back by an invisible force and hit his head on the opposite wall, making him see stars.
"Foolish boy!" Aetur growled, "You really thought that I would spare you? I only need the girl. You are... Expendable."
"NO!" Tamara screamed, throwing herself between the two males.
"Idiotic girl, you really think you can save the both of you? Good luck."
"Maybe not alone but with magical backup I think she has a chance." A new voice called.
Aetur cursed loudly. Lance recognized the voice, he would never be able to forget it, and she probably wouldn't let him.
"Margo!" he yelled.
"Lance, stand down." the leader of the rebels ordered.
Lance caught a glimpse of her long, choppy black hair as she leaped into the room. Lance pushed Tamara against the nearest wall, pushing them both flat against it, out of the line of fire. Lance had an idea then...An idea Tamara probably wouldn't like. He dove to the floor, rolling across to the other wall. He ran in a crouch to the door, ducking stray burst of light and energy that shot toward him. He looked back for a moment, and ran out the door and down the hallway towards to door. He was now closer to it than he ever had been in his life. He was about to turn the knob when...
An immense explosion shook the foundation of the house, and the walls started to collapse.
He turned, expecting to see that Tamara had followed him but she wasn't there. Lance involuntarily cursed. So close, but he had to help his friend. And Margo might have been hurt as well. He looked back at the door one last time, longing to know the secrets it contained before sprinting back towards the other room.
Margo was on the ground, unconscious or dead, Lance couldn't tell. Tamara was in the corner, trapped between two walls and Aetur.
"Get away from me!" she yelped.
"I don't think so." Aetur snarled.
"I said, get away!" she cried out.
Then her hand moved as if it had a mind of its own. It moved out to push Aetur away and he flew against the opposite wall, just like Lance had done when Aetur did the same thing.
"Tamara you just... And it was.... You...." Lance trailed off, staring at slightly in fear, mostly in awe.
"There's not time for this." She said, sounding slightly shaken.
"You're right. Come on!" He ran down the hall and flung open the door.
This could be the moment when all his questions would be answered, when his destiny was revealed, when the fate of Lance, Tamara, their friends, there enemies, and the world was decided. He ran into the room, but stopped short.





It was empty.

Chapter Three
The Change

Margo's head hurt. The stupid, power-hungry idiot had sent a blast of energy at her, knocking Margo off her feet and causing her to become unconscious. The last image she saw before blackout had been Aetur bearing down on Tamara.
Margo awoke in an empty room. Panic rose up inside of her. Had she been captured? No, that would mean that her hands would be tied. She looked around and breathed a sigh of relief. She recognized the place, she hadn't moved from her spot on the floor in the room where she had found Lance. Where had everyone gone? She wondered, looking around in confusion.
She stood up, and immediately sat back down. Great. Just great. A broken leg. Just what she needed. She sighed, stretched, and got up into an awkward crouch. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain control of herself. She shifted on the floor to get comfortable so she could concentrate.
Lance was sensible, she knew, but he might not be thinking straight. She had to get out of the mansion and wait for her leg to heal, because it didn't matter what form she was in; it was still going to be a problem. Right now, all she could do was get out of the mansion, and find Lance.
She took another breath and with a golden flash of light, lifted off the ground, now a small, gray dove. She stretched her wings and soared through a hole in the ruined ceiling. It felt so good to be flying again. She rose higher, and disappeared behind the low clouds.
She sighed, enjoying the cool wind that blew against her. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so free. Now, to find Lance. He might go back to the base, get himself and Tamara healed. Tamara, Margo didn't like her much. She was supposed to be the all-powerful ONE that would help them get rid of Aetur and then all of the 'schools' for magical kids. But this girl didn't seem to have much magic in her.
Margo looked below her, trying to find her way back to their main base. How did she get to the mansion? Margo couldn't remember. She let out a tiny bird-sigh that was lost in the wind, and began to head towards the ground. She thought she saw the path she had taken...Yes! There was the large boulder they had passed, and the dead tree fallen over the road...She landed near the tree, rested a moment, before changing again, this time onto a large dog.
She put her nose to the ground, and, catching the scent, limped quickly along the trail. Winding amongst the trees, following the faint trail. She felt a little disappointed that they had been this easy to find and follow. She made a mental note to try and cover their tracks more effectively. She continued on, making slow progress due to her stupid leg. But she had to find them.
She stopped right in front of a boulder, the entrance to the main base. Their trail just stopped there and she was slightly relieved. Lance was smart. He had returned; after six months, he had come back to the base. Margo changed back into her regular self, leaning against the boulder.
"Password?" the boulder rumbled.
Margo couldn't help but smile; William and Gillian were the best magical mechanics in the Rebellion.
"Timeon." she whispered and the rock rolled to the side.
"Lance!" She called, looking around at the various shelters, trying to decide which one he was most likely inside.
The base was all underground, hidden inside a natural cave that one of them had discovered many years ago. It was as large or as small as they needed it to be, depending on how many members they had staying in it at any given time. The cave was airy and comfortable cool, with high ceilings, cracked and sparkling with veins of metal and drops of water.
Sunlight leaked through the cracks, lighting up the stairs and rooms carved into the striped gray rock. Crevices just if enough for small cots were carved all over, shelves, tables and benches had also been carved out by the local architects, Carrie and Carlos, who could carve almost anything out of, well, almost anything.
She limped over to Sage and Menthe, the two healers at the base. Menthe looked worn out, wiping sweat from her forehead as she bent over a sick patient.
"What happened to you?" Sage asked, looking over his leader.
"Doesn't matter." she snapped.
"Yes it does, you're limping which is most likely from a broken left leg. You have a nasty gash on your forehead and-"
"Okay, I get it. Fix me up quick. Have you seen Lance?"
Sage sat Margo down on a vacant cot and grabbed gauze from a passing volunteer. He shook his head.
"I've been too busy to notice everyone's comings and goings." he ripped the gauze with his teeth and started to wrap it around her head.
That wasn't any help.
"Just get me some crutches and let me see if anyone has seen them." Margo sighed.
"Them?" Sage inquired, disappearing behind a desk and coming back with two wooden crutches.
Margo nodded. "He had a new recruit with him." She explained.
"Oh," Sage handed her the crutches and she got to her feet.
"Thanks, Sage." she told him and walked off.
She was able to walk much faster now that she had the crutches, and decided that it was not worth the trouble to become a dog again, so she continued her search on foot. She decided that they were most likely in Lance's usual room, which was up in the middle of the second level.
She headed toward the stairs, but decided, what with the crutches and all, that the ramp was probably a better idea. She made slow progress, even with the crutches, but eventually made it up to the second level. She walked as quickly as she could, ignoring the throbbing pain in her leg. She stood in the entrance for a second of hesitation, and then walked into the room.
Lance wasn't in the room, but it was far from empty. Their newest recruit, Tamara's friend, a girl by the name of Briana was in the room, sitting on the cot in the farthest corner. She had a book in one hand and was reading aloud to an invisible audience.
Margo cleared her throat. "Have you seen Lan- I mean L?" she asked, catching herself before she revealed his identity.
Briana looked up, startled. "W-what?" She asked, "Oh, no, I haven't."
Margo sighed, where was he?! She knew he was in the base somewhere, most likely with Tamara.
"Have you seen Tamara, then?" She asked, but Briana shook her head.
With a sigh, Margo walked out of the room and back down the ramp. She set her crunched dejectedly by the wall, and reverting to her dog form again, searched for Lance's scent.
She hoped no one would see her, limping pathetically along. She followed his trail, which lead from the main entrance into one of the many tunnels. She wondered why he was in there, instead of in his room. She wandered on slowly, turning corners, following staircases, going wherever the scent took her.
Soon she came to another room, this one hidden by a particularly large stalactite. She edged around it and turned back into her usual self. Without the help of the crutches she made slow, painful progress, but she was determined not to stop. As she came to the main room, she saw Lance sitting on a stone bench next to a cot. She couldn't see who was lying in the cot, but she thought she could guess. She looked back at Lance, who looked particularly reserved.
This girl was going to drive Margo insane. Lance used to be her top warrior, never yielding to his emotions. Mercy didn't belong on the battle field in his mind. But Tamara was turning him into a mushy mess. She couldn't stand him like this. It would be a miracle if she died painfully and slowly. Margo walked into the room and sure enough, Tamara lay motionless on the cot.
"Hey," Lance said, acknowledging his leader's presence.
This must have been serious. Lance never just said 'hey' to Margo. He usually either addressed her by name or by 'sir'.
"What's up?" she asked, trying to sound casual, which she knew NOTHING about.
Lance turned his face away from hers, uttering a small, and weak "hmmm" in response.
Margo couldn't let him waste away at this stupid girl's bedside! She had to do something!
"Lance." She said seriously, crossing her arms. "You can't let this affect you so much! You're losing control. Get a hold of yourself!" She said the only things he could think of to say.
She had no experience talking to depressed boys despairing over bedridden girls. Lance's headshot up and his eyes glared angrily.
"Go. Away." He said quietly and slowly, as if she may have trouble understanding.
"Lance-" She tried again.
But was interrupted by an angry jolt of electricity as he added, "now!"
Margo stumbled backwards. She stared at Lance, fear, anger, and desperation clear in her eyes.
"You just... You... HOW DARE YOU!" Margo screamed. "Lance, this isn't you, I don't know what happened to you. You were my star warrior, you didn't believe in mercy! But now it seems you're mopping around about a girl you barely know! What happened to my warrior? What... What happened to my friend?" she said the last part quietly.
But they both knew that Lance was her only friend. She was thought of as a merciless, strong leader by the other rebels. But Lance had seen that it was all just a mask.
Margo turned away from him, not wanting him to see the hot tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks.
"I hope she dies." Margo muttered angrily before doing her best limp-storm from the room.
She couldn't believe that Lance would just desert her like that. She hated to admit it, but she was jealous. She doubted that, if it had been SHE had been the one lying in that bed that Lance wouldn't be moping about doing nothing. With a shiver not entirely due to the coolness of the cave, she sat down and huddled in a corner behind a pile of broken stones. There she sat, and cried and cried, until she had no more tears left. Cried for the loss of a warrior, the loss of a member of the Rebellion, the loss of a friend. Cried about her stupid leg, cried for the sake of crying.
She felt a body slide down to sit next to her and a tentative hand on her shoulder. Margo wanted to shrug it off but instead she looked up to see who was there. Klyde, her second in command crouched next to her, holding one of the crouches.
"It is okay, Margo." he whispered soothingly.
"Okay?" she moaned. "No, it isn't okay. I just lost my best friend and warrior to a stupid, bedridden girl!"
Klyde patted Margo's shoulder nervously.
"Hey, it's no big deal." he whispered, trying to find out how to deal with this. Then again, how do you deal when your leader is having a break-down?
"No big deal? It was Lance!"
Kyle was speechless, Lance was the star warrior, no nonsense. He was falling over a girl? Klyde would have to look into this.
"C'mon, Margo. Let's get you to a cot, you need to rest.
She sighed, and allowed him to help her up. She took the crutch from him and they began their slow descent down the ramp, heading in the direction of Margo's room. When they entered the carved doorway Margo collapsed, exhausted, on the cot, staring at the ceiling of rippled gray rock, following the curves and circled with her eyes. She sighed. Klyde was standing awkwardly in the doorway, obviously uncomfortable seeing his leader, usually so strong and brave, like this.
"You can leave now, Klyde. I'm fine." Margo said to him, and, hesitating to look at her with concern, left the room. Margo listened as his footsteps faded away, and then allowed herself to drift into an uneasy sleep.
* * *
Klyde quickened his pace down the hall, he had to check out what was with the whole Lance and bedridden girl thing. It wasn't natural, something was definitely wrong. He rounded the corner back towards the caves where he had found Margo crying against the wall and found the hidden area behind the stalactite where Lance sat, frozen-like in a chair. Klyde narrowed his eyes so he could just make out the figure that Lance was sitting by.
She was maybe around Lance's age, with longish, brown-red hair. Klyde took a deep breath and entered the room.
"I guess the rumors are true." He said, in his most authoritative voice.
Lance's head shot upright to stare at the second in command.
"What do you want?" Lance quipped.
"I came to see if what Margo told me was true."
"Then go away."
"Is that what you told Margo? Because she didn't seem to happy outside this room."
Lance shrugged and Klyde stared at him.
"Go away." Lance said again.
"No, I want to know why Margo is so upset."
Klyde crossed his arms and looked Lance in the eye. He looked away with a long, sad sigh, placing his head in his hands. He said nothing more. Klyde was getting nervous. He had never seen Lance like this; he had always been the strong one around, always keeping to himself, but never like this.
This was bad...Klyde had thought Margo was exaggerating, but everything she had said was true. It was like Lance had been carried off and replaced by an impostor, a sad, angry, bitter, and useless impostor. Klyde had to do something, but what? Judging from the state Margo was in, she had felt the same. Klyde winced, imagining what Margo could have said to poor Lance. She was never any good in these situations.

Klyde was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, when Lance suddenly said so quietly he could barely hear, "you've seen all there is to see."
Klyde opened his mouth, shocked at how dull Lance's voice sounded, usually so full of feeling, but closed it again.
Lance continued, "So why are you still here?"
He didn't sound accusing, really, just sad.
"I...Um..." Klyde stuttered, trailing off.
This was all wrong, all wrong...Lance wasn't supposed to get sad, or angry, or...But Klyde realized that he was wrong there. Lance was only human, but it still unsettled Klyde to see him this way.
Klyde sighed. "I'm here for several reasons, Lance. The first being to find out what you did to make Margo so upset."
"I snapped at her."
Klyde raised an eyebrow. "You snapped... at the leader of the Rebellion?!" He cried in disbelief.
Lance nodded and turned back to look down sadly at the girl.
"Second thing." Klyde started. "What's with the girl?"
"Her name is Tamara..." Lance said, his voice going low and depressed. "She's a... friend."
"What happened to her?"
"She went against Aetur, sent him flying against a wall. She was fine then. But after about an hour on our way back to base she just collapsed, she's been like this since."
Klyde stared at the girl for a minute. Her small frame and her long hair. She didn't look like she could take on anyone, much less Aetur.
"Has she seen Sage or Menthe?" Klyde finally asked.
Lance shook his head. "No, no one but you, Margo and I know she's here."
Klyde thought a moment before speaking again, “Don't you think we should tell someone?"
Lance looked up, slightly surprised. "I...I'm not sure. That might not be a good idea."
Klyde looked confusedly at the comatose Tamara, then at Lance.
"Why?"
"Everyone is saying stuff about her being some all-powerful ‘One’. The less that know she's here...The better." He said hesitantly, like it took too much effort to process the thoughts into words and put them together into sentences.
This was getting worse by the second. Klyde was at a loss; he had to help Margo, which meant helping Lance. Helping Lance meant helping Tamara, but helping Tamara meant revealing her presence which could mean...a lot of things.
"Lance," Klyde started but the look Lance was giving him made him stop.
"Don't start, I already had Margo tell me off."
"I'm not going to tell you off. I was going to tell you that she obviously needs medical attention. You can't keep her presence here a secret forever. We should go get Sage or Menthe."
"NO!" Lance cried out, startling Klyde.
This was definitely a new version of Lance, one that no one had ever seen.
"W-what?" Klyde asked.
"They can't know! They'll use her for her power."
"Lance, she'll die if we don't help her soon. Do you want that to happen?"
Lance paled and his hand moved towards Tamara's.
"Well..." He said softly, "what do we do?"

He sounded like someone who was out of options...And hope. He looked up at Klyde, searching for some answer from him that he didn't know.
"Um..."Klyde thought hard. “Well...” Then he remembered something. "Well, uh, Lance, I have this...Friend..." He perked up a bit. "I haven't talked to her in a while, but she may be able to help...I'm...Uh, pretty sure she's trustworthy, but....No guarantees, okay? I'll see if I can find her again...She's probably gone back into hiding. But, uh, don't get your hopes up yet, okay?"
He said, trying to dim the smile that had spread halfheartedly across Lance's face.
"Uh...I'll be going now." Klyde said, and awkwardly edged backwards around the stalactite, out of sight again.
* * *
Klyde ran down the halls, not caring if he bumped into anyone. He felt half bad about how he was leading Lance on; he would just get Menthe and dress her up in some fancy clothing. But it was the only way he could get Lance to trust him.
Klyde first raced to the Medical Center, a largish cavern where Sage, Menthe, and a couple of volunteers tended to the sick and wounded Rebels. Sadly, of late there had been many rebels in and out of the Medical Center and there were rumours of plague spreading quickly through the caverns.
Klyde ran up to Menthe who was chatting with a rebel girl who had broken both legs after she had been tortured by one of the 'teachers' at the 'schools'.
"Menthe!" Klyde panted. "I need you to come with me, it's urgent and you'll need a disguise."
Menthe narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Mmmhmm... Why exactly will I need a disguise?"
Klyde sighed. "Well... Um, it's about Lance. He's...Um, all depressed over Tam -"He quickly corrected himself "This girl whose sick and, I kind of told him I know someone who could help but...Well, fact is I don't. So I need you to pretend you're someone else."
He stared at her pleadingly, but the silence continued. Suddenly she said, "No."
"What?!" Yelped Klyde, "but Menthe....I really need this! I...I'll do whatever you say...I'll owe you, big time but please do this for me this ONE time!"
He desperately attempted to win her over.
"I did not say no because I didn't want to help you. I know a better way to, though."
Klyde stared at her, confused now.
"How?"
"I have this.... uh... friend. Well they owe me a favour. She's a wonderful healer but she can prove... difficult."
"Who is this?"
"Her name is Lith, she's lives...." Menthe looked down at the ground. "Well that's not important."
"I think it is. Why is she difficult?"
"She's got a bad temper. And her prices tend to be... high."
"But you said that she owed you a favour, isn't that enough?"
"Depending on the healing job that you want done."
"She out cold, allergic to her own magic it seems."
Menthe tilted her head. "Who is the girl? It doesn't seem like Lance to be hung up about a girl."
"That seems to be everyone's reaction." Klyde muttered.
She narrowed her eyes slightly at him, and the awkward silence continued.
"Oh, I get it." Menthe said, understanding dawning on her face. "It’s one of those she's-not-supposed-to-be-here-we-can't-tell-anyone-but-if-we-don't-she-can-die-and-if-we-do-then et cetera things."
Klyde blinked. "Uh...Yeah. Sort of."
"Well then, let's not waste time. Come on!"
She began walking briskly toward the center of the caves, and Klyde began to get excited he loved this place!
They rounded the corner and descended down a short flight of stone steps, spiraling into darkness. Menthe snapped her fingers and the room was bathed in the soft, blue glow of an orb hanging from the ceiling...or hovering near the ceiling, more accurately. Klyde looked around at the familiar room with as much awe as if he had just laid eyes on it for the first time. the soaring ceilings form which hung various gadgets and models, the rough walls covered in blueprints, notes, drawings and shelves, and the floor, which was littered with tables and chairs and benches, but the greatest of all laid in the very center...the Rebellion's secret weapon. Klyde looked back and forth between Menthe and the weapon.
"You're not serious!" He moaned. "Margo would have my head if she found out!"
"Yes, but Margo is unable to lead the rebellion at the moment. Seeing as she has a nasty broken leg and a gash on her left temple. I'll go tend to her while you’re gone and make sure that she doesn't find out about where you're going."
"I'm not taking our greatest weapon!" Klyde protested. "It would be too well spotted."
"Klyde, you're one of the only recruits that doesn't have magic," Klyde flinched, not liking when people talked about his lack of magic. "You don't have much of a choice."
He sighed and backed off a little too easily. Even though the thing would be easy to spot, Klyde had waited nearly his whole life to try it out.
"Fine," he said, trying to hide the happiness in his voice.
"I'll see you later." Menthe said, snapped her fingers again, and a map appeared, floating inches from Klyde's head.
"Thanks a lot, Menthe. This means a lo-" he began to say, but was interrupted when the map whooshed forward and smacked him on the forehead.
"Get going!" Menthe said with a grin.
"Uh...I'll do that." Klyde said, rubbing his head.
He snatched the map out of the air and stuffed it in his pocket, just in case it decided to whack him again. Menthe disappeared around the corner, and Klyde turned to the panel of switches, buttons and touch-screens in front of him. He knew exactly which one to push or pull or tug or swipe, because, although he had never flown it before, he knew exactly how to work.
The long, boring lessons from Margo had paid off well in the end, as it turned out. He looked around, taking in the details of the room once more. He pushed a small, green button on the bottom left of the panel, and was immediately blinded by bright sunlight.
Rock scraped against rock, gears ground, and a portion of the ceiling folded away to reveal a perfect-sized opening. Klyde turned back to the controls, his eyes quickly adjusting to the light. He pulled a lever and sat down in the swivel chair welded to the deck and pulled the handle hidden underneath the control panel. The thing rose off the ground, and a completely clear plate of glass descended down to the edges of the craft at the push of a button.
Klyde grabbed the helmet on the other empty seat, put it on, and took the levers in the middle of the panel. The craft rose slowly, turned to the left, then to the right, and disappeared into the sunlight, the window closing behind it.