I have no idea where this came from. All I know is that yesterday, this idea came to my head and suddenly I spent the whole day writing this. It turned out longer then I expected.

So, this doesn't have much to do with the Lorien Legacies, but it does have to do with my story, now an AU, called A New Hope. It's about that day on Lorien, about eleven years ago, before the Mogadorians attacked. It gives a little insight on Nova and a little bit of background for that nectar stuff and the sisters' involvement with it.

I'm not sure if anyone is going to read this or not, but I hope someone does.

Also, I put a Spongebob reference in here, I wonder who can spot it (I'm really bad at coming up with names).

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Lorien Legacies or specifically The Last Days of Lorien, which part of this intertwined with. I do, however, own my characters.

Nova-

I'm sitting in my little nook in the trees, overlooking the lush, green forests of Aoria. A little ways down the mountain lays the Kabarak, my home. I think I can see my house from here. And past that; off to the west, is Malka. That's where my cousin lives.

I work quickly, scribbling on the paper as fast as my hands can go, switching my chalk from red to green to gold to blue and back again. My hands are smeared with many different colors, the tips of my fingers appearing brown from all the blending.

This is my thirteenth (or is it fourteenth) drawing of the same thing: the scenery from my secret hideout. Nobody knows about this place except for me. Even if they did know, I'm not sure anybody would be willing to climb this high up anyway.

Right now, at about suppertime, is my favorite time to be up here. Just chilling, drawing and listening to the sounds of nature (and music, don't forget music. I've tapped into my favorite radio station, the one that plays my favorite singer's music the most. Oh, what wouldn't I give to go to the Quartermoon concert in the city?).

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting its warm, golden rays on the scene in front of me. It's the perfect lighting for the perfect view. I glance up, taking in the reds, oranges and yellows of the sunset. It's amazing. Ever since I've gotten my Antigravity legacy, climbing has been so much easier. Now I don't have to worry about falling and dying. Also, I can catch things at the perfect angles. I mean, who else has stood on the sides of buildings, sketching the city?

Not that I go to the city often, but I always jump at the chance when Mom has to. I think it would be cool to live in the city, well, maybe live outside of the city and visit the city when I want. Yeah, that sounds good.

I'm lost in my own thoughts and my art for quite a while, and, before I know it, the sun falls beneath the horizon, the golds, oranges and reds fading away.

Too bad sunsets don't last forever, this one was the best I've seen in a long time. But, of course, everything has to end, so now the sun has completely set, the sky taking on blues and purples and blacks, the millions of stars starting to shimmer brightly. I'll have to get going soon if I want to get back home before total darkness falls.

Before I even get the chance to pack up, I feel a tickling sensation in the back of my head and hear faint static.

Nova? It's time to come home now; you were supposed to be home before sunset, My sister's voice says sternly. Well, more like thinks.

Sorry, Susan. I promise it won't happen again. Today was just so beautiful I lost track of time, I reply.

Uh huh, sure. That's what you said last time. And the time before that, and the time before that… I cut her off.

Okay, sheesh! Whatever. I'm coming home now, you happy?

Not really. Just make sure you're home soon, Mom's pissed. Susan breaks our telepathic link and I sigh, flipping my sketchbook closed, pausing on the picture of the really cute boy who just came to the LDA about a week or two ago.

He has jet-black hair, tousled slightly and sticking up a little in the back. His chocolate-brown eyes are wide, almost as if he's eager to take everything in. Well, I usually don't see them like that; he's usually squinting or glaring at everyone and everything.

I think that's what I like most about him. He hates it there, and so do I. I feel trapped, and that dull grey prison doesn't do much to make me feel better. Out here, I'm free. I have as much space as I want and almost too many places to explore. Every day is something new and exciting. And, to top it off, I've basically got total freedom here, as long as I get back by the time Mom tells me to. But she doesn't punish me for being late, and thank the elders for that. I can't even remember a day where I was on time.

But at the LDA, it's different. Every day is the same: Get up, get ready, go to breakfast, academic classes, legacy training, dinner, one hour of free time then back to the dorms for bedtime. It's just the same monotonous routine every single day.

Sometimes, I just want to run away, move to the city or somewhere remote and far away that horrid prison. Maybe I could take that boy with me too. The sad thing, though, is that I don't even know his name. All I know is, earlier today, before I was let out for the Quartermoon weekend, when we were watching that movie from Earth, he had that wide-eyed, happy look on his face. I'll admit, I think I watched him more than the movie, studying his movements, like the way his elbows bent as he rested them on the table, supporting his head with his hands and etc. I tend to do that a lot, study people as if they're art.

My thoughts are interrupted by the returning static; this one is different, though. Nova, sis, you gotta come home, now.

It's Collin.

I know! I'm coming! I think angrily. Can't they just leave me alone?

Alright, make it quick; his presence in my head goes away.

This time, I actually close my sketchbook and start to walk down the tree. I put my book in my bag and sling it over my shoulder, hopping down once I'm close enough to the ground. When my feet touch the forest floor, I reach into the foliage and pull out my bike. I swing my leg over the side and start to pedal, reaching the dirt path quickly and riding all the way back.

"Why hello, Nova!" one of my neighbors says.

"Hey Mr. K!" I wave at him, steering my bicycle with my telekinesis. I turn back and pay attention to what's in front of me, knowing that the hardest part of my journey home is weaving through these people.

And the fact that it is Quartermoon doesn't help clear the crowd at all.

"Ah!" someone exclaims, jumping out of my way.

"Sorry!" I yell back, resorting to just gently pushing the people out of my way with my telekinesis.

"Nova!" another person shouts as I whip by them.

"Watch it!" the man next to her shakes a fist at me.

"Sorry, Larry, Beth! I'm late!"

With my enhanced hearing, I catch Larry muttering sarcastically, "What a surprise." I continue to zip past people, some of them balancing pots and baskets on their heads, shoulders and arms while others carry armfuls of bags.

"What the hell!"

"Hey!"

"Sorry!" I can't even turn back to see who I disturbed this time, I'm almost out of the center of the village and am nearing the neighborhoods. But when I see who's standing behind one of the food stands, I immediately squeeze the brakes; stopping so fast I nearly fly over the handlebars.

"Careful there, Nova. Don't want you getting hurt, especially tonight!"

"Oh don't worry, Old Man Jenkins," I laugh, hopping off my bike easily. I make my way over to his stand, admiring the different pasties and desserts. Unlike most people, Old Man Jenkins doesn't mind when we children call him old. Most of the time, he's actually the one saying it. "I finished a drawing and I was hoping to give it to you. It's kinda convenient, seeing you here. I thought I'd have to search for you for hours in that crowd." Jenkins laughs as I pull out my sketchbook, flipping it to the right page and carefully tearing a page out, handing the drawing to him.

"There's a hell-of-a lot more people here than last year. I think the entire Aorian Kabarak is crammed into that village square," he says, accepting the drawing and inspecting it. "Well stick me in a dress and call me Sally, this is incredible! I think you captured her beauty better than a camera ever could!" I can see tears budding in the corners of his eyes, and his smile is so big it almost looks painful to hold.

This drawing is of his wife, Amanda, who recently passed away peacefully in her sleep. I could tell Old Man Jenkins was hurting, so I drew him this in all of a month's worth of my free time at the LDA, and, whenever else I could.

I keep the mood lighthearted, acting like the drawing that took the most time and effort on my part and probably has my blood, sweat and tears embedded within the multiple layers of shading (yes, blood. Do you know how many paper cuts I got while drawing this?), is no big deal.

"Yeah, and there's a ton of visitors too. I think there's at least a couple hundred people hustling around out there." I point at one of the desserts. "Wassthat?"

"That, my dear friend, is a flurrah roll, baked to golden perfection, topped off with a delicious coca spread and a light dusting of sugar and nuts," he explains, grinning.

"Sold, I'll take as many as you'll give me." I take my backpack off and open it, digging around for my wallet. "Shoot, I don't have any money. Must've left it at home."

"It's alright," he says, starting to wrap up several of the desserts and put them in a bag. "I owe ya for the drawing."

"Oh no, you don't have to pay me back, that's a gift!" I protest. Jenkins just shakes his head.

"Well then so is this." He hands me the bag. "Enjoy!"

"Oh my gosh, thank you so much!" I exclaim, leaning forwards to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek and wrap my free arm around his neck in an attempted hug.

"No problem, Sugar. It's the least I can do!" He replies, hugging me back, still smiling. When I pull away, I glance down at my watch and take off in a sprint, hopping on my bike and pedaling away.

"Well, I gotta get going! Bye, Old Man Jenkins!" I call back over my shoulder. He waves.

"Bye, Nova!"

…

When I get back home, I leap off my bike and run to the door. Right as I'm about to open it, the door swings open, revealing my younger sister, Kim.

"You're late," she says by way of greeting, turning around and walking back inside. I shrug off my backpack and carry my bag of pastries to the table.

"Sorry, I stopped by Old Man Jenkins' stand and got some dessert for everyone," I explain, setting the bag down on the table. My two youngest sisters, Liz and Rebecca, come sprinting out of the playroom upon hearing the word "dessert."

"DESSERT? WHERE?" Liz yells. She always yells and never talks because, in her eyes, why talk when you can yell? Rebecca follows her carrying her wooden doll I made for her fourth birthday. It looks just like her, with hair long and black, made of silk. And its eyes are a pale sapphire, just like hers. I'm kind of jealous of them. I'd much rather have her eyes than mine. Sure, pale gold eyes are pretty good-looking. But I just can't pull it off.

"Right here," I say, gesturing to the bag. My sisters each hop onto a chair, excitedly waiting for the dessert I brought.

"How'd you buy it?" Kim asks, taking a seat next to Rebecca.

"It was a gift. I gave Old Man Jenkins a present and he gave me these." Kim nods, reaching forwards to grab the bag. Just as she's about to take it, the bag scoots away from her tiny hand, hovering in the air.

"Now now, little sister. Where are your manners?" Collin jokes, entering the room with Susan, Mom and Dad behind him. "Make sure to wait for the rest of us!" Kim pouts.

"NOW YOU'RE HERE, LET'S EAT!" Liz shouts, making a futile grab for the bag. My mom gives her a scolding look.

"Elizabeth! Use your inside voice!"

"Sorry." After Liz mumbles an apology, Mom turns to me.

"And you. Do you know how late you were? I'm ashamed, Nova. I expected better of you," she starts to lecture, shaking her head in disappointment.

"I'm sorry, but I had to stay, the light was perfect. I was drawing the sunset, you know."

"Well then, why didn't you tell me you wanted to go out to draw the sunset instead of agree to come back before the sun sets." I look down. Maybe I should have considered saying that. My mom watches me, then, she sighs. "Whatever, it's Quartermoon. You deserve a break."

"Really?" I though I was going to have to sit through another of her boring-as-all-fuck lectures. Thank the elders for Quartermoon.

"Yes, now come on. There's a party in the main square and we were waiting for you so we could all go together," my dad says eagerly. Unlike my mom, he's perfectly fine with me coming home late. I showed him some of my drawings once and he told me, "Never, ever come home on time again, you hear me? Finish your art first. Then, come right home and show me." So, that's pretty much how I get out of trouble for sneaking out or being extremely late with no excuse other than: I was drawing.

"So no dessert?" Rebecca asks, poking the almost-forgotten bag.

"Not now, we'll save them for tomorrow, okay?" Susan says, picking her up. Rebecca squeals.

"Nooo! I'm too old for that!" And we leave, Susan smiling softly as she carries my squirming little sister out the door.

…

Explosions and bombs wreak havoc on the planet, my planet. People run, screaming, some to their homes or children and others to the terrestrial fleet of Mogadorians marching steadily towards them. I don't know how I know the name of an alien race I never knew existed, but I just do.

"Hey!" I yell, trying to catch someone's attention. "What's going on?" No one listens to me. "Hey!" I start to walk towards a Garde man who recently sent a fireball straight through a Piken.

Again, I have no idea how I know what that beast is.

I reach for his arm, trying to tug on his sleeve, but my hand only passes through him. That's when I realize that I'm invisible. No one can see me; no one can hear me, and no one can touch me. Oh shit, what now?

I decide to try yelling again, just for the heck of it.

"Hello?" I scream, desperate to be noticed. "HELLO! SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!" I still get no reply. Talking to these panicking people is useless, especially because they can't hear or see me.

Then, suddenly, everything is changing. I'm transported outside of the city to a very familiar looking place: The Aorian Kabarak. Bodies lie everywhere; I'm not even sure who's alive and who's dead. My breath catches in my throat and I fall to my knees.

Is Mom here? Is Dad here? Are Collin, Susan, Kim, Liz and Rebecca here?

"MOM! DAD! SOMEBODY, PLEASE! ANSWER ME!" I shriek at the sky, watching the bombs erupt in horrifyingly spectacular explosions. Only I would find the exploding of bombs "spectacular." Damn art brain.

When another bomb goes off, one big enough to make the ground beneath me shake, I curl up in my spot, starting to cry. There are so many people dead, why am I having this dream? Why me of all people?

I've just about given up when I hear something. It's a creepy whisper that comes from nowhere and everywhere at once. I can't even decide if it's a male or female voice; it sounds like both.

"The end is nigh, the end is nigh," it chants. The mere sound of it is enough to send chills across my spine. "The end is nigh, the end is nigh…"

"STOP! PLEASE, STOP! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!" I scream, covering my ears. It doesn't work; the voice only gets louder. And, now, it sounds like multiple people talking, all of them whispering in that horrifying tone.

"The end is nigh, the end is nigh, the end is nigh, the end is nigh…"

…

I wake up screaming and sobbing, thrashing around in my hammock, the sheets sticking to my sweaty legs. Beside me sits my mother, her face tight with worry and concern.

"Nova? Nova! Are you okay?" She asks, resting her hand reassuringly on my arm. I shake my head, gulping. How could I possibly be okay?

"Wha-What happened?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even and failing miserably. Way to go, Nova. Way to seem like a little wuss that's scared of a nightmare.

"You were yelling, 'the end is nigh, the end is nigh,' in your sleep," Susan explains. She sits on her hammock bent over, looking exhausted and defeated. Beside her sits Collin, his face gaunt and pale.

"Oh."

"What were you dreaming about?" my dad asks. He's leaning up against the doorway, his face draped in the shadows of the pitch-black night.

"I-I was dreaming about Lorien; I-it was being destroyed by these horrible people. They looked like monsters, Mom!" I yell, grabbing my mom's arm. My mom embraces me, squeezing me tight as I cry. "A-and no one could hear me, or see me! I was forced to watch them all die! Then, this voice started speaking to me. It said, 'the end is nigh, the end is nigh,' over and over again! Mom! I'm so scared! Why did I have that dream?" My mom rubs my back.

"I don't know, sweetie. I don't know." Then, I hear a dull booming sound in the distance.

"What is that?" I question, my voice wavering.

"Thunder?" My dad answers. "Or fireworks, maybe." I can't help but shiver, remembering the sound of the bombs detonating. This sounds freakishly similar. We sit in silence, listening to the booming for a while more. That's when Collin decides to tell me the horrible news.

"Uh, sis? I know you've had a pretty shitty night, and this is only gonna make it worse, but, I, uh, I can't keep it from you anymore," he blurts randomly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sick."

"What?" I must have heard him wrong.

"I'm sick," he says a little louder. About an hour or two ago, we figured it out."

"And who's 'we'?"

"Susan, Mom, Dad and I." Collin looks down at his hands clasped in his lap. "I'm gonna die, I lost, Nova, I lost."

"No, no you didn't. There must be something!" I'm starting to cry again. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! "There has to be something!"

"Look at me!" my brother yells, standing up, suddenly furious. "Look at me! I'm dying! It's only been two hours since the balance tipped and look at me!" And I do, taking in for the first time tonight exactly how pale he is, and how his eyes are sunken in with dark circles beneath them. He does look sick; he does look like he's dying. "The disease won! It'll only be a matter of time…"

"No!" Now I'm standing; my hands clenched into fists at my side. "Y-you can take more nectar! You can-" My mom cuts me off, hugging me as I start to sob again. It's just not fair. Why us? Why our family?

Long ago, I'm not even sure exactly how long, someone in my family fell ill. It was a disease, an incurable one, one that most Loric didn't even know about. No healer could fix it; it was something that embedded itself into our genetic code. Then, it let our body do the rest. No Loric-made medicine could cure it, but there was one thing, one plant that could. The Sun Lily, as our ancestors called it. Its nectar could cure anything.

But it was rare; and no one used it except for when they had to. But the scientists wanted to know more about it and how it worked, so, when my mother fell ill with this incurable disease, the let her try the nectar to see if it worked.

And boy, did it work. My mom was young at the time, only about ten or eleven. After ingesting a steady amount of nectar for years, the incurable disease was fought off. But, since it is a virus, a nasty one at that, it refused to go away entirely. The nectar just suppressed it.

It still lives inside my mom, and in all of us kids, but it's dormant. For my mom, the nectar only shoved down the disease, forcing it to retreat. The nectar cells my mom has in her blood fight off the disease, and luckily, the disease isn't immune.

When we were born, something remarkable happened. The nectar, and the disease, was carried into our cells and our genes. Some of us, like me, have a high amount of nectar pumping through our veins. Our bodies can make its own nectar, believe it or not. And mine, it makes a lot. I haven't gotten sick once, not even a simple cold, because of it. The nectar is a part of my immune system, and it fights off everything.

For my sisters like Susan, Liz, Kim and Rebecca, they have an average balance. They don't have a high amount of nectar in them, but they don't have a low amount either. They have enough to continue to beat the disease, but not enough to never get sick.

Then there's Collin. He had a low amount of nectar. He was always teetering on the line between getting beaten by the disease and staying healthy enough to keep living.

He just tripped and fell over that line, onto the other side. Collin is now going to die.

As my mom explained it, the more nectar we had in our bodies, the less of a chance the disease had of taking over our immune system. You see, both of them take over the cells in our blood, but the nectar turns them into nectar cells, cells that destroy all disease it comes across. The disease poisons the cell, having it make more of the disease cells, and then makes it so it will target and destroy nectar cells. Then, the new disease cells go and each poison another cell, making even more disease cells and turning the good cells into bad ones.

And if the disease manages to do that, if it manages to take over, it will be free to run rampant through your body with no restrictions. First, it targets your most important organs, like your heart, your lungs, your stomach and your brain (specifically the cerebral cortex first). Then, it starts to gradually destroy these organs. Within the first hour or so, you seem five years older than you were when you first got sick. Your hair starts to turn grey and your skin starts to wrinkle.

About twelve hours later, you start to get physically sick. You start vomiting, coughing up blood and your blood pressure drops dramatically. This stage lasts from about a week up to a month, depending on how healthy you were before. Because your brain is a main target, you start to lose control of your motor functions.

After that, you continue to have those symptoms, and your brain starts to be majorly affected. You start to have memory problems; even more problems with your motor functions and, eventually, you end up paralyzed. You don't last long after that.

And, of course, all of this takes place in less than three months. That's where Collin is heading; and no amount of nectar can save him.

…

"The end is nigh, the end is nigh…" I try to ignore the voice. Instead of curling up on the ground like last time, I walk around, trying to figure out exactly what's going on. This time, I don't freak out when no one pays attention to me, although I do get a bit surprised when a scared, crying little boy sprints right through me.

After playing around a little bit, I realize in this dream world, I can fly. The first place I go is the city, where there seems to be the most bombing.

When I get there, I can see that the Spires of Elkin have been destroyed, as well as many other landmarks. It's terrible, and it causes bile to rise in my throat. This shouldn't be happening!

I watch as Garde fight massive beasts, even bigger than the Piken I saw last time I was having this dream.

I see a blond-haired Garde man protecting a bunch of people, helping to guide them away from the fight. He doesn't even see the beast charging him.

Momentarily, I forget I can't do anything to change what's happening, and I cry out. "Hey! Look out!" When the man is ripped to shreds in the jaws of a monster, I cringe and resist the urge to cry.

Not now, I can't cry now.

I decide to fly over to the LDA to see how they're handling things. I don't know what I was expecting, but a charred smudge on the ground was definitely not it. I land right at the edge, finally allowing myself to cry. The acrid fumes sting my eyes and nose, but they can't hurt me.

"The end is nigh, the end is nigh…"

Great, it's those stupid voices again. "SHUT UP!" I scream, whipping around and facing the sky.

"The end is nigh, the end is nigh…" I'm about to scream again when I hear something. It's the sound of an engine. And, soon enough, a rounded, white vehicle makes its way into my line of sight, coming to a stop near the crater that used to be the LDA.

The boy that gets out of the car is not who I was expecting. The sight of him makes my heart soar and at the same time plummet down past my stomach. It's him, the boy from school, the one who I though was cute even though he was older than me.

He gets out of the car and stumbles over to the edge of the destruction, collapsing to his knees like I did earlier. Then, believe it or not, he starts to cry.

"No," he whispers, probably not even aware that he had said anything. He just sits there, even though he probably knows that the toxic fumes will kill him. He's lost in thought for a while, only being brought back to reality when another vehicle started approaching.

The boy stands up, swaying slightly, his cheeks stained with tears. His hands are clenched at his sides and he stares defiantly at the car. As a man steps out and starts towards him, the boy sways even more. He even starts to hum.

I'm pretty sure he's delirious from the poisonous vapors, but yet I kind of understand why he's humming. I think he's trying to comfort himself. As I listen to him hum quietly, I recognize the song.

Holy shit, he listens to Devektra's music too! I think I like him even more, now. And I still don't know his name!

After several seconds of humming and waiting for the approaching man, I think I recognize him. Yeah, he's one of the mentor Cêpans. I think his name is Brandon. Yeah, that's his name.

I watch as Brandon walks up to the boy, who had recently collapsed. Gently, yet forcefully at the same time, Brandon picks him up and brings him to his vehicle. Oh no, I want to see what happens next.

Before Brandon closes the door, I hop through them, landing in the back next to the boy. Soon, Brandon starts the car up and it speeds off in autopilot. I tense up; I've never been in one of these before, and the thought of being closed up in one is kind of terrifying. It's also kind of exhilarating.

The boy starts to regain consciousness. When he does, he looks about just as surprised to see Brandon as Brandon is to see him.

"You?" he asks.

"No, it's not possible." Brandon sits on the floor, silently, before he lunges forwards, grabbing the boy's wrist. "How did you get this?! How did you get this?!" he demands, shaking the boy.

The boy opens his mouth to respond but he can't because Brandon's shaking him too much. I'm no doctor, but this is going to get messy real quick. At least, that's what I can guess what's going to happen based on the look on that poor boy's face.

Sure enough, I'm right. When he seemingly can't take it anymore, the boy leans over and pukes. Brandon scoots away. By the time the boy is finished, Brandon looks sorry. Then, of course, he apologizes. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault," the boy says. "I don't think it was you, anyway. The fumes from the explosion made me sick. Made me pass out, I guess." He crawls over to the other side of the car, still looking at Brandon. Then, he starts to explain himself.

I like him more and more as he tells his story, my respect for him sky-rocketing. Apparently, he stole some mentor Cêpan's ID band so he could get into the Devektra concert that night, then, after the building was bombed, he came here to find this toxic crater.

Brandon, however, doesn't seem to be very fond of this boy's actions though. He yells at him, and I can see that the boy is ashamed of what he did. As Brandon starts to leave, the boy cries out. "Wait! The kid! What about the kid?"

"His mentor Cêpan is already dead, and if he weren't, the trip there and back would take two hours. We need to be off this planet as soon as possible. It's too big of a risk, and it's a risk that none of us, with Garde of our own to protect, can afford to take," Brandon explains impatiently.

"I can't live with that," the boy says.

"You won't have to," Brandon replies. "Not for long anyway."

"So me, the kid, and everybody else on this planet… we're just fucked, huh? Left to die as the invasion begins?"

"Yes. This is no longer about saving individual lives, Sandor. This is about saving an entire race." Oh, so that's his name.

…

Soon, Sandor is riding in Brandon's vehicle. I slipped into the back and watched as he typed in coordinates for Malka. Sandor had looked around for a weapon, and I watched him, thinking about whom he could possibly be going to find in Malka. When he gets to the edge of a forest, a familiar looking forest, he gets out and makes his way through on a path that I have traveled many times.

Eventually, he gets to the place I knew he was heading to; Kyuu's house. Well, more like Grandfather Korovakk's house, but it was where Kyuu lived. I watch as Sandor sits down, talking with my grandfather. Sandor eats some of his soup and I smirk as he tastes its wonderfulness for the first time.

Something buzzes in Sandor's pocket and he takes it out, staring at it. That's when Kyuu appears. He's running, Byscoe and Temaratris chasing after him. I smile at the sight, watching him sprint right into Sandor, knocking him off the log.

Now I'm laughing. I collapse to the ground, pressing my hands to my stomach, laughing at Sandor's expression. I suppose it's not that funny, but after what I've been seeing, I'm glad for any humor whatsoever.

Korovakk laughs too, smiling sadly at the two of them. Sandor warily gets back on his feet, picking up the communicator and opening his arms to Kyuu. Knowing Kyuu, I don't need to be a psychic to know what will happen next. If you give Kyuu the option to hug, he will always choose to hug. I smile warmly as Kyuu races into Sandor's arms, giggling. Sandor scoops him up; spinning around, and eventually faces Grandfather Korovakk.

"You said your Legacy allows you to see people's destinies," Sandor starts, facing my grandfather. "Can you see anything now?" My grandfather looks down.

"He will be important," he says. "That's all I know."

"What about me?" Sandor asks.

"You will be important also," Korovakk answered. "But you will die." Sandor nods, seeming surprisingly okay with it. He gives Korovakk a small nod of thanks, then turns and runs away.

Sandor makes it back to the car before I can get inside and I resort to following him the rest of the way by flying. When they get back to the city, something explodes, causing their car to go flying. After it lands, Sandor climbs out, followed by Kyuu. A Mogadorian attacks them and Devektra saves them. After that, they ride on a motorcycle to the airstrip where the two of them meet up with the other Cêpan and Garde already there.

I gasp as Loridas comes into my line of sight, blessing the children. Kyuu is placed in the open spot and blessed last. Then, the Cêpans and their Garde all run up to the ship, the doors closing. The last thing I see, of Sandor and of this dream, is the young Cêpan hugging a sad-looking Kyuu. Even though I can't hear what he's saying, I know Sandor is reassuring my young cousin.

After the doors close, the world blinks into darkness and I hear the voice start to chant again. "The end is nigh, the end is nigh, the end is nigh, the end is nigh…"

…

I wake up to Collin shaking me. I sit up, blinking and trying to remember exactly when I fell asleep.

"Nova! Thank goodness you're awake!" he yells.

"What do you mean?" I'm confused. Has something else happened?

"We couldn't wake you up! All you did was sleep and occasionally yell, gasp or talk. Usually, you just gasped, shouted 'shut up' once and mumbled, 'the end is nigh' over and over again. You scared the hell out of us!" he shouts, his voice hoarse. Through the darkness, I can see that his hair is already turning grey.

"Omigosh, your hair…" I trail off, feeling it with my fingers. Collin slaps my hand away.

"Ignore that! What do you mean, 'the end is nigh?'" I snap into focus, remembering everything about my dream.

"There's an invasion coming," I say quietly.

…

"You have to go, now!" Dad is yelling at us, pointing at the ship not unlike the one the nine Garde took. Only, this one is smaller. "Don't worry about me, you have to go now!"

"But what about you?" my mom cries.

"What did I just say? I want you to leave me behind, Kara. I'll protect you, you take the kids and the Chimaera and get the hell out of here!" he yells. Grandfather Korovakk steps up between them.

"He's right, you need to leave. The two of us will make sure you make it off the planet," he says calmly. My mom sobs, nodding.

"Okay, okay I will." My dad guides her over to the doors and we all get in. I watch as he kisses her, muttering reassuring things to her. After she joins us, my dad starts to close the doors.

"I love you!" he shouts, tears streaming down his face. The bombs are getting closer; we're running out of time. The Mogadorians will be here soon.

"I-I love you too!" My mom cries, turning and burying her face in Susan's shoulder. Right before the doors slam shut, Collin slips out, standing determinedly next to Dad.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I shout at him. My mom looks up, her eyes widening.

"Collin…" she whispers.

"I'm going to die anyway! Why not make myself useful! I'll die before you guys even get close to the next planet, and I don't want to go down like that! I'm going to stay here, and die fighting for our planet!" he yells. As he says this, I realize that there's no changing his mind. He's not coming with us. "I'll be your air support, remember? I can fly!" The doors grind to a halt, locking. Then the ship starts up, the engine roaring. Dad, Collin and Grandfather Korovakk press their faces up to the glass window, shouting that they love us.

We all yell back, everybody crying. Mom is a complete sobbing wreck and Susan is sitting blankly, staring at nothing. It looks like I'm gonna have to be the strong one.

I look out of the window as our ship rises, my eyes meeting Collin's as my brother flies next to us. He waves, then winks at me, shooting a beam of pure energy from his hands, turning a winged beast to ash before it has the chance to knock us out of the sky.

I'm sorry it had to be like this, he says in my head. I feel a few tears slip from my eyes.

Me too, even as I think to him, my voice sounds hollow.

Be strong, Nova. Be strong for them. They need it. I'm counting on you to protect them, alright? He asks, his thoughts serious.

Okay, I'll try. Collin gives me the most serious look I've ever seen.

No, trying isn't good enough. You have to promise me. Promise me, Nova.

I promise. That's when a small dog-like creature hits Collin. I scream, pressing myself up against the glass.

I love you, Nova. I love you and all the girls. Be strong, okay? I know you can. I belie- our telepathic link cuts off and I curl up in the corner, sobbing. Collin is dead. I don't even acknowledge the bump as our spaceship breaches the atmosphere, sending us speeding towards safety.

We made it, but Collin didn't.

…

Now that I think about it, even after all those years, that was the saddest night of my life. Was and still is.

It's been eleven years since I've heard Collin's voice, since I've heard Dad's voice, since I've heard any of their voices, really. I lost everything, everything but my sketchbook. As we were leaving our home, I grabbed my backpack, which had the bag of pastries from Old Man Jenkins, my music player and headphones, and my sketchbook.

On that ship, I told my mom about my dreams and she told me I had developed a rare legacy: Precognition. And, with much practice, I've gotten better and better at controlling it. I'll probably never be as good as my grandfather, or as other prophets before him, but I'm getting there.

But the one thing my legacy never showed me, what I could have never seen coming, was when Liz warped back to the island, the people she rescued in tow. I never expected to see him again.

At first, I didn't recognize him. He had a different voice, a different accent. But those eyes, they never changed. He still gazed at the world with that wide-eyed look, and his eyes were the same chocolate-brown. I should know; I still have the picture I drew of him when I didn't even know his name. But I know it now.

Sandor.

Well, that was kinda fun. I really enjoyed that because I really like it when I show the soft side of tough characters.

Should I continue this? Maybe describe what happened on the ship and after they got to Earth? I don't know, but I'm probably gonna start writing the next chapter to one of my stories tomorrow. I'll probably get a new chapter up soon (I hope so).

Oh yeah, and on a side note that has nothing to do with this: Math tests are scary. My teacher this year is much different then last year, this year she doesn't give us extra time (which I desperately need). So yeah, my grade in Math is probably going to plummet because I can't finish the goddamn test.

I swear, my hands were shaking at the end. So, if I get a bad grade, you'll either get something angsty or extremely fluffy. It depends on if I want to try to cheer myself up or channel my frustration into writing.

Hmmm *shrugs* we can only wait...