HI guys!

Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews and comments! I love reading them and hearing your thoughts and feedback on this story, so thank you so much!

Answers to reviews:

- Alicia and Adam's friendship is quite interesting to me, seeing as they were brought together by Hannah's death and they both loved her. I've brought it back again in this chapter, so hopefully you'll all like it.

- I wanted Ella to be all calm whilst Setrakus crumbles because the relationship between the two of them is definitely changing as she grows stronger.

Please read on and enjoy!

Chapter 35 – Fragile Peace

Marina

Ever since the first Games I haven't experienced many moments of peace. It's usually one fight after another, one impossible, hopeless scenario to overcome after another. The luxury to stop for a few moments, to rest and to breathe has never really been available. The chance to really appreciate moments with loved ones, and the opportunities to tell them how much they care are so rare that sometimes it's easy to forget they never happened. When those moments do happen, I treasure them, even try to imprint them on my mind so I never forget them.

This is one such moment.

I lie on the camp bed, the tent flaps shut to block out the bright light outside and to stop people bothering us. The mattress is hard and lumpy, and the sounds coming from the army camp makes it hard for me to fall asleep, yet I feel peaceful, relaxed and even happy. I know why of course. Joseph lies next to me on his stomach, his arms thrown out haphazardly as he snores gently. His head is turned away from me and all I can see are his black curls and the rising and falling of his chest as he breathes deeply. There's a small blanket thrown over the two of us, small and ineffective. But I can't be bothered to move to take it off.

I feel lazy, sleepy and happy. After a good meal, a shower and a sleep, I feel better than I have in a long time. The camp here isn't luxurious but it's practical; it's everything you'd expect of a camp filled with Loric soldiers preparing to march on the Capital. They'd formed this camp in a mere matter of days, just before we'd attacked West Virginia. There had been loads of fighters even at the beginning, but we were still lacking the numbers to easily take on the Capital. But when word of our victory spread, it meant that everyone able to fight had swarmed to the camp, ready to fight for Lorien. There must be hundreds of thousands here now, waiting to enter the city and win the war.

And more are coming every minute.

Everyone had praised us; the mentors, the generals, even Laws had congratulated us on our victory. They made it sound glorious, victorious. But when I think back on our attack, I just remember a constant sense of fear. I remember the terrifying moment the base came down on us; that hadn't felt victorious. I think of the horrible moment Maren and I had fallen, the floor beneath us crumbling away: that certainly wasn't glorious. My ice had protected us, but that had been almost impossible to maintain. I remember the concrete slamming into us, the free falling, the shaking, the tumbling and finally stopping, the concrete and rock settling around us. I thought we were going to die there, trapped in by tons of rocks, without having said goodbye to the ones we loved. The thought of Joseph, Ella and Hector had been the only thing that made me fight to get us out of there.

Here in the safety, I'm ashamed of how close I was to giving up.

I wasn't just scared though. I remember relief from the fight too, relief at being free, relief at realising that the boys had made it unscathed. I remember the wonderful moment Joseph had teleported to us, hugging me. I hadn't even realised how terrified I was of losing him again until he was with me again. Holding him close to me had meant everything in that moment. But relief isn't glorious victory. It's just relief.

Next to me Joseph sighs deeply, rolling over in his sleep. He turns onto his back, his face twisted towards me, peaceful and almost happy looking. I smile slightly, enjoying the moment to take him in unashamedly. It's not often I get the chance to. I try to picture the boy I first met, the one with the bright smile, the curls falling down to his shoulders, the careless way he treated life. I almost feel sad when I think of that boy, the one who didn't know what pain or fear or grief was. The boy next to me is different. He looks maturer, his face has a serious tinge to it, even in sleep, and he's not so careless anymore. Too much has happened to us at too young an age. But even though we've both changed, at least we have each other. And I know that if he wakes up now to see me staring he'll smile at me so brightly it'll make my day.

I can hear more voices outside, closer and more familiar sounding but it's hard to clearly make out who it is given the noise of the camp. My curiousity spiked, I push aside the blankets on my legs, gently extricating myself from the tangle of Joseph's arms and legs. I manage to sit up and I hear him groan a little, mumble in protest. I turn to see him blinking slowly, rubbing his face in confusion as he tries to shake off sleep.

"Where are you going?" he mumbles, sounding unhappy.

"Carry on sleeping," I bend down and kiss his lips very softly. "I'm just going to get some water. I'll be back soon," It doesn't take much persuading for him to do as I say and he shifts into a more comfortable position. I move away from him, and get to my feet, having to bend over in the small tent. I begin to untie the knots holding the tent flaps together, rolling my eyes when I hear Joseph snore within a matter of seconds. He's the only one I know who can fall asleep almost instantly.

I push aside the flaps, making sure to close them securely so that no one disturbs Joseph. I stand up and stretch out my arms, grimacing at the stiff ache in my shoulders. I feel like I've been asleep for days, when really it's only been a matter of hours. I take a look around me, still impressed now at the sight. For a camp that was only put up a few days ago, it looks pretty official. It was set up nearby a set of abandoned warehouses on the outskirts of the Capital, so loads of supplies have been stored in the empty buildings. Whatever hasn't been able to fit into the warehouses has been stored in metal container boxes piled up next to the buildings with the tanks and vans parked nearby.

But it's the main part of the camp that really impresses me. Despite there being nothing but empty fields when they arrived, the soldiers have made it almost like a city. Metal poles placed together like scaffolding with plastic screens to form walls and covers give the camp an almost shanty town-like feel. Lights hang from the metal poles, lighting up the dark areas. Some partitions have been screened off for privacy, like my sleeping areas, whilst other places are left open. In these open spaces, there are tables covered in bags filled with supplies, these weird control-like boxes, weapons, communication devices, compasses and maps. These plastic formations stretch out for as far as I can see, hundreds of thousands in this giant scaffold city.

I look around my part of the camp; Maren, John and Nine are sleeping somewhere nearby and the mentors and camp officials have their tents here too. I hear talking and I turn to see a group of soldiers standing in a circle, whispering to themselves. As if they can sense my stare, a few of them look towards me, blushing when they see me talking. Almost as if rehearsed, they turn and walk away, leaving me alone. Once that would have bothered me, once I would have felt offended, but I enjoy the peace and quiet now. I know that there are very few places in this camp that will be as empty as this one. I walk over to the table, looking at the items on the desktop and trying to make sense of them.

There are a few neat piles of uniform with name labels on; someone here was in the process of making our packs up for the Capital just as we were attacking the base. I run my hands over the black cargo trousers, feeling the material between my fingers. It's thick, but not thick enough to count as armour or counter a bullet. I take in the thermo shirt, the zip-up black jacket with the pockets and hooks for weapons and supplies. Everything screams of practicality. Battle gear for a real war.

The reality is only staring to hit me now. It's easy to talk of numbers and strategies and battles and hitting the Capital in the Resistance base, miles below the ground where it's safe. Staring at a map and pointing at symbols depicting armies is easy, but this, being here in a camp filled with hundreds of thousands of soldiers with tanks and weapons everywhere is so different. The full scale of what is going to come terrifies me. This is it.

End game.

"Marina!"

John's voice pulls me out of my thinking with a harsh shock. I jump, my heart almost stopping, smiling in shaky relief when I see him approach. Apparently I'm not as relaxed as I thought I was.

"Sorry," he grins at my look of shock. "Didn't mean to frighten you," He walks over to me, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He almost looks shy.

"You didn't," I smile. "I was just…preoccupied," I shrug, letting go of the trousers and turning to face him fully.

"Yeah," John admits. "It's pretty crazy here," he shakes his head. "I can't still believe this is happening," He looks at the table almost nervously, as if seeing everything prepped for war unsettles him too.

"We've always talked about hitting the Capital," I reply. "We knew it was coming," My words would be a reminder if not for the sickening dread.

"Not this soon," John smiles ruefully. "I always felt like our previous strategy was putting off this attack to get the cities and to train everyone up for this battle. And now suddenly it's here. It's just…I can't believe it's almost over," He grins.

"It's hardly over," I don't know why I'm suddenly being so pessimistic but I am. "Heading to the city, does not mean it's over," I point out. "We still have to kill Setrakus and he has that charm on him! So we don't even know how to kill him! As far as we know, he's got another charm that makes him immortal or reverses the damage onto us! This is far from over," I don't know why I feel so worked up all of a sudden, so hopeless.

"I guess we just have to have faith in Ella," he replies solemnly, as calm as ever. "She's the only one who can figure out how to kill him. That's why she's there. We just have to trust her to do her job," he shrugs. I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

"I know," I agree. "I do trust her. It's just…it's this place!" I look around. "It puts everything into perspective. Seeing everyone prepare for war…seeing the plans for the attacks," I trail off, feeling sick. John smiles warmly at me, lightly reaching out and shaking my shoulder.

"Stop worrying," he says with a smile. "This is the best chance we've had. We've been in far worse situations before," he reminds me. "Besides, we'd be pissed if we weren't allowed to hit the Capital now," he grins.

"It's just…we found it hard with the base," I whisper, admitting what really bothers me. "How can we do that with a whole city?" He surprises me by stepping forwards and gripping both my shoulders, staring straight into my eyes. He's stopped smiling, his grin replaced with a serious expression.

"We're not alone anymore," he says firmly. "This is going to happen, whether you can accept that it's so soon or not. We need you fully with us, Marina, ready for whatever comes. Promise me, you'll focus when the time comes," he demands. He's suddenly so different, like a leader, and I don't want to let him down. I don't want to be the weak link.

"You don't even need to ask that of me," I reply.

"I know," he says softly. "You're a good fighter, Marina, even if you don't think it. You overthink things too much," he says lightly, squeezing my shoulder so as not to offend me.

"As if you can talk!" I protest. He smiles slightly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. In fact, he almost looks sad as he scrutinises me.

"You're scared, aren't you?" he asks. "Scared of going back to that place?" I wince, shrugging his hands off my shoulders. I hate that he's able to see what terrifies me.

"No," I reply abruptly. "I'm fine,"

"You're worried about getting caught by the mogs again," he says, dead right. "You don't want to go back into that place," I turn to face him, squaring my jaw and trying not to let him see how much his words affect me.

"I'm not going back into that place," I say and I mean it. "No matter what happens, I'm never going back into that base. I'll kill myself before I step into the Justice Building as their prisoner," John winces at the tone in my voice. He knows I mean it.

"We won't let you get caught by the mogs again," John says softly. "I promise. We'll protect you," I look away from him, staring at the rows and rows of metal poles and plastic covers.

"No one can protect me," I reply. "No one can protect anyone,"

John looks like he's about to reply but then I hear a clearing of a throat and I turn to see Maren there. The look on her face says she's heard enough of the conversation but she doesn't comment on it. She just approaches the table, standing close to John. Even now, despite the seriousness of everything, despite my sickening fear, I can't help but find it a little amusing how he blushes slightly and shifts awkwardly on his feet.

"I was just with Kat," Maren changes the subject. "We just got word in the camp that the mog civilians have been evacuated from the outer districts of the Capital," she smiles grimly. "We all know what that means," She crosses her arms, looking every inch an army commander.

"The pods have been activated," I realise. "They knew we're coming," She nods, running a hand through her hair. She looks as stressed as we all feel.

"Apparently the Loric insiders in the Capital managed to get one last message to us," she sighs. "Updated versions of where the pods are. The technicians are programming this into our Holos so we can use these updated plans in the city," I don't ask what a Holo is; I'll find out in tomorrow's meeting.

"One last message?" John raises an eyebrow at her. I can't help but notice how close they stand to one another, how Maren seems to almost lean into him and how John's blush gets a little brighter whenever she looks right at him.

"All Loric workers in the Capital were executed this morning," she says bluntly. "Setrakus was worried about a spy after we survived the bombing," Maren's voice wavers slightly, unable to act completely cold to the news.

"Shit," John whispers. I don't even feel that surprised, just sad.

"At least he doesn't suspect Ella," I reply. Maren looks up at me and then nods, looking as guilty as I feel for the relief. But I can't help it. With so much death going on, you kind of get numb.

"No, he doesn't appear to," she replies. "If he did, he'd make a big show of executing her or punishing her to send a message to us. He'd want to make us come to her rescue,"

"It would work," I straighten up. "Nine would go in a second,"

"We all would," John stands up, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "This feels so fucked up,"

"It's not," Maren shakes her head, looking fierce. "We have new plans. Ok, the mogs will surely update the pods' layout again, but we still have something to go off. We destroyed West Virginia. The cities are ours. And we have Ella. We are in the best position we've ever been in," John looks at her, so intensely it kind of reminds me of how I felt when I saw Joseph for the first time in the base. I feel like I'm intruding on something.

"I know, you're right," he replies. "Sorry," he says. They stare at each other for a long moment and I definitely feel like a third wheel. I shift, accidentally knocking a metal flask over, and breaking the moment between the two.

"We have a meeting tomorrow," Maren turns to me. "About the plans for attacking the base and what our role will be. Then we have to give a speech to the troops, moral and all that shit. I said John can take charge of that," she grins and John rolls his eyes.

"We'll move into the Capital the day afterwards," Maren continues.

I feel sick at how soon it is. I feel terrified at the thought of going back into the city. Yet I feel eager to get on with it, no matter what. I feel so conflicted and confused and torn up inside. But seeing Maren's stoic face makes me want to be as calm and cold as she is right now. We're soldiers now and we have a job to do. More than that, we're Elders and if we don't fight for our planet, then who will? So I nod, hiding my inner turmoil.

"Got it," I reply calmly.

Xxx

I'm dreaming. Not a nightmare, or normal dream, but a vision. I know at once because there's a weird tinge to the dream, as if something is controlling it and watching over me. As if there's a hidden presence protecting me against something.

I'm somewhere I've never been before. It's somewhere cold and grey and misty. I can barely see anything through the mist; just the lurking shapes of trees and something huge looming up beyond it, like a mountain or a temple. The sky is a dull grey colour and there doesn't seem to be any sun, almost as if it's hiding or being obscured by something. I turn in a circle, trying to hear out for anything but it's completely silent. I can't even find myself feeling scared, as if my emotions have been dulled down.

Marina.

There's a voice, echoing in my head. I feel like I'm going mad and I turn in a circle again, trying to see who it was. But there's just the grey mist, curling around my ankles and obscuring my feet. I start to shiver.

"Hello!" I call out but my voice is so quiet. "Hello, can anyone hear me?"

Marina.

The voice is clearer this time and then the mist seems to part in front of me. I take a step backwards, wrapping my arms around myself as a figure walks towards me, as hazy and murky as the mist. I grit my teeth to stop my teeth chattering, feeling unnerved and freaked out by this. I want to wake up and be back in my tent, Joseph next to me. But I stay where I am, the mist curling around me, as the figure approaches. As it comes closer I try to make it out. Short, slim, red hair...

"Ella?" I gasp.

Ella stares back at me, looking calm and composed. She's not quite complete, almost as if all the colours in her have been dulled down, and her form flickers, sometimes even shifting as if she's made of smoke and the wind is blowing her away. But when she sees me, she smiles and it's a smile that I know and love. It's the one that belonged to the little girl I first met. Seeing that smile I feel tears in my eyes and a longing to be close to her rises up in me, so strong and painful. I try to get closer but it's almost as if something gently shoves me back, stopping me from getting too close. I try to fight it but it's too strong.

"I tried so hard to get through to you," she says, stopping me from moving so I can listen. Her voice is older and there's an echo to it, as if someone else is speaking along with her. "I didn't think it would work,"

"I've missed you," I whisper. She smiles softly, threading her hands together.

"I've missed you all too," she replies. "But the wait is almost over now. We'll be together soon," I somehow believe her more than I believe any of the others, even Joseph. There's a weight to her words, a sense of prophecy that makes it hard not to believe her.

"We're coming for the Capital soon!" I tell her in a hurry, wishing that I could hug her, even if only for a second. I've missed her so such and I want more than anything for her to be with me. "We'll come and get you, I promise!" I tell her.

"You can't," she replies. "You won't," Her words are filled with sadness but her face stays the same: calm.

"Yes we will," I protest.

"The future isn't set but is ever changing," she waves her hand, and it flickers with the movement, almost blending in with the mist. "That's not why I'm here," I can hear the impatience, even the worry in her voice for a moment.

"Then what's going on?" I demand. "Why are we here?" I gesture around at the mist, the lurking trees and shapes around us. They seem more ominous now, almost threatening, and I shiver more.

"Setrakus is leaving the Capital," Ella says. "He's going to Elder's Isle,"

"Where's-" I begin but then it's like I can't talk, as if my voice has been taken away. I clutch at my throat but Ella smiles calmly, and then it's like a wave of feeling washes over me, something calm and relaxing and taking my fears away. I lower my hands, feeling calmer, more at peace and I know it should disturb me but it doesn't.

"Lorien will show you the way," she whispers. Lorien will help you,"

"Why is he going there?" I manage to whisper.

"He needs something from the Isle," Ella replies. "He needs the Entity of Lorien. He needs Ximic. It's the only way he can win. If he goes there, then he'll get what he wants," she says, her voice filled with urgency.

"But the Capital," I protest.

"The armies can wait. The attacks can wait," she whispers. "Come to the Isle or everything is over. Only the Elders and Pittacus can stop him," Her voice is so silent that I barely hear it.

"Pittacus?" I demand.

"He will be revealed shortly," Ella replies so softly I almost don't catch it. "His time has almost come," She sighs sadly. "I can't stay for long. It's too strong for me,"

"Don't go," I whisper, even though it's hopeless.

"Come to Elder's Isle immediately. I will be there…I will help you," she shudders, her form wavering and shifting in the air. For a moment I think she's going to disappear, but then her form refocuses.

"We'll come," I vow. "I promise," I mean it. It must be important if she had to come to me in a dream to talk. Ella's form smiles and I can see the relief on her face, breaking through the calm exterior for a brief second.

"We'll see each other soon," she says, but the words are almost ominous.

"Wait, Ella!" I move forward to try and grab her, to talk to her some more. It's so cruel to show her to me like this and then take her away before I can speak to her properly. I've missed her so much, missed having her around and to have her snatched away like this is cruel.

"Goodbye Marina," she murmurs, beginning to disappear.

"Ella, please!" I beg but there's no point.

She's gone.

Xxx

Adam

"Can you remember what your attacker looked like?"

"Did he tell you his name?"

"Do you think he was alone?"

I ignore the endless questions; I've already answered them and it's hardly as if the answers are going to change. Yet Deputy Commander Bailey seems almost desperate to push me over and over. Part of me is surprised he's so keen to find out the identity of the dead mog who tried to kill me; after all, Bailey is notorious for hating me in this camp. I would have thought if the mog had lived and I had died, Bailey would have made the mog an honouree Loric in reward. But I guess with Commander Marsh present, Bailey's got to do his job.

"Did he say anything that would reveal his identity?" Bailey pushes. I shrug, trying to hide how irritated I really am.

"Adamus Sutekh, please do not ignore me," Bailey says coldly, sitting ramrod straight in his chair. "We are trying to discover the identity of your attacker. We are doing this for your protection," His face is cold and unforgiving and it just makes me not want to help him.

"Look, no offence, but there are hundreds more mogs out there who are going to want to do the same thing," I shrug. "One dead mog won't make a difference,"

"We can punish those linked to this criminal to show that we take your safety seriously," Bailey replies tightly.

"And if you do that then you'll have a mob on your hands," I retort. "Killing innocent mogs for something they didn't do isn't going to help win them over,"

Bailey glowers.

At the head of the sole table in the Command tent, Commander Marsh purses her lips together. She looks more tired than normal and there's an almost hollow look to her, as if she's been worn down. I guess it must be hard running such a camp as this, especially with everything going on at the moment.

"The interrogation is over," she straightens up. "Bailey, leave us," His head whips around in shock, losing the cold look he's been wearing.

"Commander, it is my job to find this criminal's identity!" he protests. "We should be enforcing law and order around here!"

"I appreciate your job, but I have one too," she replies calmly, not fazed by his words or anger. "One I need to get on with instead of sitting here and watching you two squabble," Bailey straightens up, looking offended.

"But-" he begins to protests but she fixes him with such a stern look that even he shuts up. He slams his file shut with a loud noise, gathering up his notes with a lot of rustling papers. I watch as he loudly shoves his chair back, trying to make it as obvious as possible that he's pissed off with Marsh. He throws aside the flaps of the tent, striding outside in annoyance. I try not to laugh; it's funny watching a middle-aged man having a tantrum.

"Try not to look too smug," Marsh says once Bailey's left. "Arrogance doesn't suit you," I wince at the stinging sharpness in her voice and I try to wipe the small smile off my face.

"Sorry," I reply.

"You know, you could help us with the mog's identity," she drags a chair out opposite me, sitting down on it. I feel intimidated with her right in front of me, staring straight at me.

"What's the point?" I shrug. "It won't achieve anything. Besides, we should try and pretend it never happened. We don't want the other mogs to get bold," I point out.

"They won't if we double security and enforce a stricter curfew," Marsh retorts. I shake my head at once, feeling both worried and annoyed. How many times do I have to repeat myself to these people before they'll start to listen to me?

"Don't," I reply. "They'll know something is wrong if that happened. We want them to think we're completely in control and if they think our strength is faltering, they'll act at once," I reason.

"I guess you might be right," Marsh says slowly. She might not completely agree with me but she knows enough about the mogs to know I'm telling the truth.

"Besides, we want them to join us…we don't want them to feel victimised or prejudiced," I remind her.

"So what do we do?" Marsh raises her eyebrow at me. "Leave it? Let the mogs continue and allow potential murderers to roam around freely?" I pause for a long moment, wondering what to say and then I nod slowly.

"It's as if you almost want to be killed," Marsh says incredulously.

"Trust me, I really don't want that," I say lightly, but she doesn't smile. "I'm just trying to make the best of a bad situation," I say more seriously. "If we double security and restrict them more, they'll hate us. We're trying to make them like us, not the opposite," I reason.

"It goes against everything I've done before," she says doubtfully, biting her lip.

"If you double the guards, enforce a curfew and whatever else you're planning, you're acting like the mogs," I reply, knowing this will make her consider. "You'll be like my people; throwing in more soldiers to make everyone scared. That's a mogadorian tactic. We need to do the opposite,"

"And what would you propose?" she raises an eyebrow. I can't tell if she's being sarcastic or is genuinely interested.

"Continue what you're doing," I don't want to offend or upset her more by insulting the camp. "Treat them fairly, let me talk to them, make them feel like they deserve a place here as much as the Loric do. Maybe, if I can sense that they're changing we grant them more freedoms," I suggest. She sighs, rubbing a hand over her tightly-pulled back hair.

"They have enough freedom," she says slowly. "If you think of what they have done to my people this past decade, we're treating them far better than they deserve,"

"I know," I reply calmly. "A lot of the mogs here will have collaborated with Setrakus and his government. A lot here would have placed bets in the Games, would have cheered on Loric deaths," I say softly, ashamed of my own people.

"But a lot didn't," she replies. I look up at shock at Marsh's words. It's not often that Loric will ever admit to there being good in my people.

"I'm not that oblivious, Adamus. I know there's a split in every race," she says almost sadly. "Some of your people are beyond redemption and those we will kill. But the mogs in this camp are both good and bad, like Loric are good and bad. Our two races can work together in the future, I am sure of it," she says.

"But not now," I say, the words escaping my mouth before I can think them through.

"What?" she looks at me, slightly perplexed. I blush, wishing I hadn't said those stupid words.

"Um, well only once the mogs know Setrakus and his side are lost, that's when they'll really change," I admit. "Not before. I can say all I want and they'll listen. It'll plant seeds of suspicion, sure. They might even see it as a good alternative if they lost. But they won't ever change sides. Not until they know Setrakus is defeated. Only when there's no other hope, will they then collaborate,"

"I know," Marsh says, shocking me again. "We all know. But at least they know what kind of future they could have if we win," she shrugs. "We don't want them to continue the fight if Setrakus is killed. We want them to give up and accept collaboration,"

"It was never about winning them over before the war ended?" I demand. She shakes her head, smiling sadly.

"Maybe it was once," she shrugs. "We thought it would be that easy. But it was soon clear that it was never going to be that simple. Our goals changed slightly…" she even looks a little sheepish. "We decided that it would be best to try and get them to acknowledge a future alliance and accept that the two races can unite. We just…we didn't tell you because we wanted you to try your hardest, no matter what,"

"Ok then," I mumble, still trying to get over the truth. I'm pissed off that they didn't tell me not to worry so much about converting them, even though I do understand why they didn't. Still, a heads up would have been nice.

"You know I was wrong about you," Marsh says abruptly, standing up. "Very wrong,"

"What do you mean?" I ask, not sure of what to take of this news.

"You care about your people," she replies. "Not in the way that Setrakus does. You know them and care for them. You want them to survive and be happy in the future. But you care for the Loric too. You want them to win," I nod, not entirely sure where this is going. It could either go really well or terribly wrong.

"I doubted you at first, Adamus, we all did. We thought you'd betray us when our cause suffered. But you've been there, from the very beginning," she smiles softly. "You've done everything we asked, even when it seemed impossible. You passed every test we threw at you, every curveball. You're more valuable than you'll ever know,"

"Thanks," I whisper, stunned. I've never had someone praise me so much before.

"You should know, that if you hadn't joined us, the Mogadorians' fate would have been very different," she says. "We weren't sure we could ever work with them. We thought there would only ever been hatred and anger between the two and only one race could live at one time. But you proved we could work together," I stare at her, wondering if this is some kind of trick. But she seems genuine enough.

"You proved Mogadorians and Loric could work together. More. The two could be friends," She heads towards the flaps of the tent, about to leave. I stand up abruptly, still stunned, but needing to know something.

"What would have happened to them?" I demand. "The first plans for the mogs, what were they?" Marsh turns to face me, a weird look on her face. It's a mix of respect, pity and sadness.

"Death," she replies. "We would have wiped out the whole race," she pauses for a long moment. "You saved them all, Adamus Sutekh. You stopped them from extinction,"

Xxx

"So that makes you some kind of hero?" Alicia raises her eyebrow. "Saving a whole race from extinction,"

"I guess so," I reply, still reeling. To be told that I was lied to, that I saved my race and that people actually want me here is a lot for me to take in. I lie back on my mattress, Dust lying next to me, my head still trying to take in the news.

"And that makes me the saviour of the hero?" Alicia continues. "You know for saving your life and all that," she grins cheekily at me. I roll my eyes in amusement.

"Yes, it does," I reply and she beams.

"I was pretty cool with the knife," she grins, sitting up. "I mean, what were the chances that my shot would hit him in the throat on my first throw?" She looks so eager and pleased that I can't find it in me to stop her.

"Pretty low," I play along. "Do you want a medal for it?" I tease. She chucks a pillow at me but Dust jumps up and catches it in the air before it hits me. He tears into it playfully, feathers scattering everywhere on the floor.

"We're so going to get punished for the mess," Alicia looks mournfully at the feathers as Dust continues to rip the cushion apart. I ignore what she said, sitting up and staring at her head on.

"Seriously though, I haven't had time to thank you for saving my life," I say in a serious tone. "I wouldn't be here and I kind of like being alive," I say ruefully. She smiles, blushing the tiniest bit. She pretends to be confident and filled with bravado, but she's still like me deep down: craving attention and praise.

"You don't need to thank me," she replies softly. "I'm your friend. It's what friends do. Besides…you saved my life. Now we're equal,"

"When?" I frown. We haven't been in any battles for ages and besides, it's clear she's the superior fighter. Sure, I have a legacy but that doesn't mean a lot when there's a gun to my head.

"When Ivan attacked us," she stares at me in confusion. "Remember, the night we were getting the Elders out? Ivan was going to kill me. But you killed him first,"

I think back to that night, that horrendous night. I remember Ivan throwing Alicia around like she was nothing, as Hannah pleaded and begged for me to save her little sister. I remember the moment on the beach, when Hannah had said goodbye for good. I remember the threat of the helicopters leaving, the mogs finding out our plan and stopping the recovery mission. It had been so close to failing but we'd lived.

I'd had to bring down the Training Centre first. Ivan went with it.

"It's no problem," I finally reply. "He had to die,"

"He was your brother," she replies softly, sadly. "And you killed him for me," she pauses and then shakes her head. "No, you killed him for Hannah,"

"I didn't-" I begin to protest but she raises her hand, stopping me.

"Adam, I knew Hannah better than anyone," Alicia interrupts. "She would have wanted you to kill Ivan so I was safe. And I know you. You wanted to kill Ivan as revenge for killing her. Sure, you saved me, but you did it for her," The way she talks is filled with resignation and it makes me feel sick because she's right. I killed Ivan for Hannah.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Don't be," she straightens up. "You saved my life. You didn't even know me and you saved me," her smile seems genuine. "Why would your motive matter?" I don't have an answer so I just shake my head.

"I've been thinking about it a lot recently," she continues, running a hand through her hair. "And I think that yeah, ok, Hannah brought us together. It was Hannah that was the reason we had to work together to start with and it was Hannah who we really cared about," she shrugs.

"Ok," I trail off, not entirely sure where she's going with this.

"But I also think that we could have become friends on our own terms, without Hannah involved," she smiles at me. "I think we would have been friends anyway," I can see the effort she's making to wipe the slate clean and it matters so much.

"I don't want our whole friendship to be dominated by Hannah," Alicia continues. "She's gone, as much as that hurts and as much as we'd both like that to change, she's gone for good. I don't want her ghost to haunt our friendship anymore. I want us to talk about her and not feel worried about offending the other. I want us to be able to be real friends, no secrets, no worries… nothing," she takes a deep breath, watching me closely, as if worried I won't agree.

"I don't blame you for her death," she finally says. "I did once but I know better now. I don't need to forgive you because there's nothing you need forgiveness from," she says sweetly. I can feel tears burn in my eyes and a weight feels like it's been lifted off my shoulders.

"Thanks," I whisper, struggling to say what I feel. "I…I think I needed to hear that. I needed to know you didn't…you didn't blame me…I couldn't talk about her before because I never knew how you really felt," Alicia smiles sadly at me, looking the tiniest bit guilty.

"And now you do," she replies. "So…I say we wipe the slate clean. The past stays in the past. We move on, as friends, without the ghosts, without the past bothering us. What do you think?" she looks shy, nervous even uncertain, as if I was going to give her any other answer.

"I'd like that," I reply. "I'd really, really, like that," She smiles properly, the relief and happiness spreading across her face and it makes her look really pretty. I can feel myself smiling too, unable to help myself, and it feels good to be like this. To start again.

"So, I think-" She begins but then the flaps of the tent are pulled apart. Crayton stands by the entrance, looking excited. I straighten up, taking a deep breath and trying to pull myself together.

"Adam, good news," he grins, not even noticing the heart-to-heart Alice and I were having. "The mogs have called a council of their leaders here in the camp,"

"And?" I rise to my feet, hope and excitement starting to grow when I see his expression.

"And they want to talk to you," Crayton grins. "Something about a truce,"

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