Morgan stared out the window of the castle wearily. His heart was breaking. His mother had been executed by King Herbert along with Apollo's parents, and his father had run away. Morgan leaned his head against the cool pane. I failed my parents...I should have tried to save Mother. Why am I so weak? I could have killed Herbert...stopped Apollo from healing him...

"Morgan?" The young mage turned and met the eyes of Apollo, standing in Morgan's room. "Are you alright?"

Morgan rubbed his nose, which had been running. "Splendid," he said in a false cheerful voice. "My mother is dead, my father abandoned me, and I've got no one left in the world. I'm just peachy." His voice broke and he turned away from Apollo to hide the tears running down his face.

Apollo stood beside his friend, bending down somewhat so he could lay a hand on Morgan's shoulder. "Listen to me," he said, and his voice was urgent. Morgan glanced up. "We need to get out of here. Mourning comes later. Herbert is coming after us next. We need to be gone before then."

"Why us?" Morgan asked. "What'd we do?" The castle was Morgan's home. It always had been. He thought of their friends Cora and Daren.

Apollo shrugged helplessly. "I'm leaving," he told Morgan. "You can come with me, if you want. Healers and mages are in high demand in Vordelle."

"I'm not much of a mage without a spellbook," Morgan admitted. "You'd be better off without me."

Apollo smiled suddenly—a devious, totally un-Apollo-like smile. "Herbert locked up your mother's spellbook," he said. "Up for a little bit of thievery before we go?"

"Apollo!" Morgan said reproachfully. "You want to steal something?"

"Well...it's not technically stealing, since it is technically yours," Apollo floundered a bit. "Heavens, Morgan! Since when are you the one with the conscience?"

"Since you lost it, apparently," Morgan answered, and was surprised to find he was enjoying himself. Maybe his heart wasn't as broken as he had thought. "How exactly do you plan to get into the place Herbert's hidden my book?"

"Easy," Apollo replied. "We get help."

Minutes later, the two friends stood outside of Prince Daren's room. A knock brought him out, tiredly rubbing his eyes. "What the devil are you two doing here? It's not even light outside yet!" Daren hissed.

"We're leaving soon," Apollo said. "We need Morgan's mother's book, though."

Daren stared at Apollo. "You're going to steal it?" he asked. While Apollo shook his head, Morgan nodded.

"We're borrowing it," Apollo said.

"With no intention of returning it," Morgan added.

Daren grinned suddenly. "Father keeps the magical articles in the same room as the Lightshield. There's a wardrobe in there. It's locked up tight, though."

"We can't ask you to help us anymore," Apollo said. "Thank you. I wouldn't want to get you into trouble."

"Are you joking?" Daren exclaimed. "I'm coming with you! You two are my friends."

Morgan shrugged. "To the Lightshield room, then," he said.

They walked through the empty hallways together. Apollo held his white staff in his hand, the opal gem gleaming at the top. "We're close," Daren whispered.

They stopped just before the corner to the Lightshield room. "There's a guard," Morgan hissed, pushing the other two back.

"What're we going to do?" Daren asked softly.

Apollo smiled. "Wait here," he answered quietly. He slipped around the corner and they heard the guard call out a greeting to Apollo. Seconds later, there was a dull thud. Morgan went around the corner and saw Apollo standing over the unconscious guard. He turned to his two friends. "Come on!"

Morgan considered his friend's new wild streak. Apollo had always been straight-laced and conscientious. It appeared he was throwing caution to the wind to get out of the castle. Daren and Morgan joined Apollo next to the door. "Locked," Daren said, disappointed.

"Not for long," Morgan responded. He pulled a pin out of his long hair and stuck it into the lock. Seconds later, the lock gave and the door swung open. "Shall we, gentlemen?"

The Lightshield was illuminating the dim, plain room. As its name suggested, it was a glowing shield. Morgan found it rather dull. He turned his attention to the plain wardrobe near the Lightshield and ran to it. Another lock secured it, but Morgan simply picked that one and opened the door.

Several magical artifacts sat inside, but Morgan ignored them all, instead grabbing his mother's thin spellbook. He flipped it open, remembering how often his mother had said he had to be sixteen to use it. Well, Mother, I am only a few months off of that, he thought. He tucked the book into his cape. "Well, Apollo. I guess it's time to go." He replaced the lock on the wardrobe and mended it with a spell, enjoying the use of magic again.

He did the same with the outside door and faced Daren. "This is good-bye, Daren."

The prince scratched his forehead, turning his face away from them so they wouldn't see the tears. "I suppose."

"Stay safe," Apollo said, and Daren nodded mutely. Then the two friends left Daren and went to the gate of the castle, opening for a new day.

Morgan glanced at Apollo as a rainstorm turned up. "Not the best omen," he said quietly, still rather saddened by the farewells exchanged with Daren.

"Who cares about omens?" Apollo said with a shrug. "We're free." They ran through the gate, and suddenly Morgan laughed. His heart was no longer broken. He didn't need his father. He had his best friend—his brother, though not by blood. They would be all the family they would need.