A Lost Legacy

I am Number Ten. I was forgotten. No one has even the slightest remembrance of my existence. The Mogadorians had tested out a new skill. I was completely forgotten after I was taken from the ship that left Lorien. One extra Garde and a Cêpan had been put on that ship, whether by accident or not.

My Cêpan's name was Bentley. We had both been taken by the Mogadorians that day. We had placed in a prison and tortured. We had managed to escape after a month, and, using a ship that had been hidden as a last resort by the elders of Lorien, escaped the planet as well.

If you ask any other Cêpan or Garde, they will deny the existence of a tenth Garde. No one saw our ship leave or arrive anywhere, and no one would remember us from the first ship. This new skill of the Mogadorians was simply called Obliviate, as to the fact that it made you oblivious to whatever just occurred.

I was seven when we left, so I remember it fairly well. Bentley kept me safe best he could, and managed to get me to Earth. We landed somewhere in America, around Alaska.

We had almost nothing with us. The Loric Chest was all we could fit in our small ship. Bentley had purchased a laptop as soon as we landed, and had started work on an identity for me, and then on one for himself. He bought a house in the small, yet well known city of Juneau, Alaska, using some of the gems in the Loric Chest.

Not that long after we had finally settled into a somewhat normal life, One was killed. I had been outside with some other kids around my neighborhood, playing some game where you would have to run from spot to spot, without being tagged by someone. I fell to the ground instantly and started screaming. The scar seared itself into my flesh. I wrapped my hands around my ankle, and they began to burn as well.

Bentley had been standing on the porch of our blue, ranch style house, talking to the parents of the kids I was playing with. He jumped the railing, and threw the glass he had been drinking from against the siding. He ran across the lawn and fell down to my side. I held his hand until the pain lessened, and he helped me up from the ground.

He knew what was happening before I did. He told everyone that I might have broken my ankle, and that I'd have to go to the hospital.

We didn't go to the hospital, we went inside and packed. By three that afternoon, Bentley and I were in his car, leaving for who knows where.

"I'm sorry we have to leave everything behind." Bentley had said in his calm, sympathetic voice.

"What happened?" I asked, tracing my finger over the newly formed scar on my right ankle, wincing in pain as I did this.

"Number One was killed," He said blankly. "Somewhere, the Mogadorians found him."

I shivered as I heard the name. The Mogadorians were the ones who had captured us. "Bentley?" I had started hesitantly.

"Yes?" He asked looking at me with concern in his eyes.

"Why do we have to keep running?" I questioned, worry squeaking through my voice.

Bentley bit his lip before he explained the whole story of Lorien and of the secrets, and enemies of its people.

We had settled in Wichita, Kansas, then Bayfield, Colorado, after Bentley found a report in the newspaper about strange, possible alien sightings in the area.

Bayfield, Colorado was where we were finally able to stay for a long time. I was almost thirteen when Number Two was killed. I was sleeping when the second scar burned into my ankle, directly above the first. I screamed so loudly, as this one hurt almost three times as much as the first.

My door shot open almost instantly and I looked up to see Bentley looking down at me, his eyes were red with sleep, and even though he had just woken up, he had one bag already over his shoulder.

We left the next morning, burned all of our papers and important documents, and started a new life in our fourth home. Colby, Wisconsin. We settled into our new home, and Bentley enrolled me in the local school.

"So what's my name?" I asked him as I read over the handbook for Colby High school. I would start as a Freshman in the fall.

"Jack Prescod," Bentley said with a bit of pride in his voice. "What do you think?"

"I like it" I responded, trying to get used to the new name.

I was in my room one night when I heard Bentley scream. I ran down the steps to see the edge of a Scout's arm pulling Bentley out the door. He put his finger to his lips and mouthed the words "Stay here" behind it.

I didn't care. "No!" I screeched in an angry voice, running after the scout. It pushed me back and continued dragging him forward. It didn't try to kill me. Why didn't he kill me?

"Bentley!" I cried out, but they were gone in a second of my scream. That's when the third came. The third scar bubbled into my flesh, and my head was mixed with sadness and pain.

When the pain ended, I was still crying. I needed Bentley. He was like my father. I didn't know what to do next, so I sat down on the grass and closed my eyes.

I woke up three hours later with a throbbing pain in my forehead. I stood up dizzily, and walked inside. I packed my bags and walked into Bentley's room. The Loric Chest sat on his bed.

My legacies had not yet come, but I remembered something Bentley had said about it only opening when we both touched it, unless he was dead. Then I could open it by myself.

I pulled myself together, and held out my shaking hands. I grabbed the lock with both hands, and squeezed it hard.

I tried not to even think about what it meant when I felt the lock, but I couldn't help it.

End of Chapter One