A.N.

Well hello everyone! I'm so glad that I've finally gotten to the second book of the Lorien Legacies Rewrite! Thanks to everyone who supported me during the first book, and special thanks to those who reviewed the prologue of Book 2! I've been hard at work on Chapter 1 of the new book, and I think you all will enjoy it.

The first ever shout outs of this book go to Tactum Ignis and Speech Bubble Me! Thanks a bunch guys for reviewing the prologue, and I'll do my best to keep up the quality chapters.

Also, if you're wondering, Iarius, unfortunately, won't be a POV character. Not yet, anyway, but he WILL be a recurring character in this and upcoming books. I don't plan on killing him off just yet, so rest easy on that end.

Finally, as always, I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and leave a sub, a review and a favorite if you like it and want more.

Without further ado, I give you IAN3: Book 2.

- Discordant Night

The Spirit of Resistance

Chapter One: Memories

Adam

One woke me, my dead sleep interrupted by her nudging my thoughts towards a darker direction. I bolt upright, clutching the blanket of the motel bed in a white-knuckled grip as I scan the room for signs of an intruder. I find none, then breathe deeply in an attempt to calm my racing heart. I glare pointedly at One as I enter my mindscape, retreating to a mental mirror of the world outside. "What is it?" I snap. "Couldn't you see I was asleep?"

"I'm lonely," she says softly. "Just because I'm living inside your brain doesn't mean I can sleep."

I sit up, releasing the blanket before yawning and stretching. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

One shrugs. "Talk to me, Adam. You're the only one who can see or hear me."

I yawn again, just to get it out of my system. "Yes, I know." I glance around the room, taking everything in now that I'm certain my life isn't in danger. Sam is asleep on one of the two couches, curled up under a blanket while mumbling something I presume is nerd-related. It doesn't surprise me; he's been up the past three days looking for information on anything related to Paradise.

Three is sprawled on the other couch, snoring loudly. His legs hang off the end of the furniture, grungy off-white socks looking out of place in the otherwise clean motel. A blanket hangs lopsided off his body, thrown around by his tossing and turning. I suppress a grin; even the most badass of warriors look helpless while asleep.

Speaking of warriors...

I glace at the other side of the bed, where the final member of our party lies resting.

Kasha sleeps peacefully, her fiery hair splayed out across the pillow. Her breathing is soft, shallow compared to the other two. The blanket covers her torso, her arm hooked over it and cupped beneath her head. Her lips part as she breathes slowly, content in her dreams as she sleeps. The warrior princess frowns as I watch, her hand reaching out from beneath the blanket to pat the bed beside her as if searching.

I flinch as her hand brushes my leg, even through the blanket. I hear One draw in a breath, but the warrior princess simply curls up closer to me and sighs contently, returning to her dreams. I'm confused, but don't think about it too much. It's nothing that needs to be thought about.

"Grabby little Mog, isn't she?" One asks. "She really had a thing for you?"

I nod. "A long time ago," I reply. "Back when I was young, and she was younger. I was a different person then. Harsher, uncaring." I sigh. "Naive."

"An asshole?" One adds.

I cringe but nod. "You could say that. The 'Great Book' was still ingrained in me then. I didn't have time for friends, or fun, or even romance." I sigh. "I can't believe I was so blind back then."

"Don't beat yourself up over it," One soothes. "How could you have known?" She slides onto the bed, weightless despite my brain trying to convince me otherwise. She lays against me, legs across mine and her head against my shoulder as she closes her eyes. "What matters is that you are who you are today."

I smile softly, running my hands through One's hair as I cradle her in my arms. "You forget who made me that way," I murmur.

One giggles. "How can I forget?" She cranes her neck to plant a kiss on my cheek, then nuzzles into my shoulder.

I sigh, content in just holding the Loric ghost, even if it was only in my mind. It's strange, holding someone you're supposed to hate. Like a cold fire, almost. But the weightlessness of the girl in my arms reminded me that she would never be the same person she was, nor would she ever exist outside of my own mind. The same weightlessness reminded me who was responsible for such a tragedy, that this innocent girl would never live out her dreams.

My heart sank.

That person was me.

My hesitation had caused her pain and suffering far beyond what Setrakus Ra could ever inflict upon me, far beyond what my people could ever inflict upon her. My unwillingness to save her had cost her her life, and her Cepan's too. My selfishness had caused her to be bonded with me, her mind potentially linked forever with my own.

At the time, it seemed like Hell. A Loric trapped within my own mind, tormenting me at every turn. The very scum I was destined to rid the universe of, trapped inside my brain forever. The thought was unbearable.

Then One showed me that I was wrong. Her memories, her experiences, changed me.

I couldn't be the same person I was, not after seeing what I did. Not after seeing what my people did to her.

Not after watching her die.

"Adam!"

One's voice snaps me back to reality, my brooding session over. "Yeah?"

The Loric girl sighs. "You're doing it again," she says, concerned.

I look to the walls, degrading as if they're made of rice paper. Through them I can see the battle at Mayalsia, where One died for the first time. The sounds of blaster fire couple with piken snarls, ringing in my ears before I finally shut them off in the back of my head.

"It's getting worse," One notices. "They're spilling into your mindscape."

"I know," I grumble. "It's not exactly easy to keep it contained, let alone under control. It's always worse when I think about what happened." I shake my head vigorously as I try to reset my mindscape, the world inside my mind where I can interact with One. The walls flicker, fading between the grounds at Ashwood Estates and the motel. After what feels like forever, they stabilize, the off-white walls of the motel cementing themselves into place.

One places her hand against my arm gently. "It'll get easier, Adam. You just have to give it time."

"So you say," I mutter. "But I wasn't born with these abilities, One. I don't know how to control them like you do." I look at my hands, palms up. "I'm not even sure I'm supposed to have them. I mean, what if Lorien is rejecting me? What if these powers are fighting me because I am who I am?"

"You mean being a Mog?" One huffs, cocking her hands on her hips as she looms menacingly over me. "Do you think that Lorien would allow me to gift you my powers if you weren't deserving of them?"

I stare blankly at One. "Lorien is just a planet, One," I deadpan. "It can't choose who gets what powers, no more can a man can choose how long his-" I'm cut off by a telekinetic gag, One's face twisted into a mask of disgust.

"First off," One chokes out in disgust, "comparing Lorien to a set of genitals is by far the worst analogy you could have come up with." She pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Second," she seethes, "Adamus Sutekh, you are by far the most stubborn, most ignorant, most hare-brained alien I have ever met. You don't know anything about the Loric, and with that attitude, never will!" She jabs her finger into my chest with each word, the final phrase sending my body toppling backward onto the bed. I scramble away from her and press my back against the headboard, not out of fear, but out of instinct.

One wrests control from me, now driving my mindscape as the walls shift from the motel to a scene I'd hoped long forgotten.

London.

In the scene, a younger version of me is racing through the Underground, chest heaving as the past me tries desperately to reach an apartment on the other side of the city before my brother did. I didn't have much time, an obstacle that I couldn't overcome on my own. Unfortunately, I was completely alone, having deserted my squad and gone rogue in an attempt to save the Loric I knew would be killed soon.

One faces the scene, a mixture of grief and resentment reflected in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembles as she watches the younger version of myself, almost as if she's about to cry.

My past self curses as I find myself lost, staring at a map of the Underground. Gaining my bearings, I race up a stairwell and through traffic in a last-ditch attempt to save Two. All around me humans continue on with their lives, unaware of the interplanetary war that rages on their own planet. I remember envying them, blissfully ignorant to the truth of the universe. I still do, if I'm honest with myself.

The apartment complex comes into view and I gain a second wind, pushing myself until my lungs are on fire and my legs feel like jelly. Still, I trudge up the stairs to the second floor and knock urgently on the apartment door.

Two had answered it with extreme caution, a Glock .40 caliber in her relatively small hands. She'd asked questions, but the only answer I could tell her was that she was in danger. She'd known what to do next and began packing immediately.

But it wasn't enough.

Ivanick found her too, literally minutes after I arrived. He thought I'd gone in for the kill, trying to take the glory for myself. He couldn't have been more wrong, but he didn't care. He killed her anyways.

Later that night, I told my father that something was bothering me, that Two didn't try to kill me, even after she knew I was Mogadorian. After looking through her laptop, I'd come to a conclusion that before wouldn't have crossed my mind.

The Great Book was a lie.

One pauses the scene, taking us back to the scene with Two, right before Ivanick burst in and ruined the only chance I'd had. "Look at him," she says. "Look at the Mog there."

I glare at One, my mouth still gagged. She smiles sweetly but removes the gag anyway.

"You're asking me to look at myself," I grit my teeth. "Looking at me from three years ago will do absolutely nothing. It doesn't change who I was then."

"But you're wrong," One counters. "You're exactly the same now as you were then, Adamus." She zooms in on the past me, on the pain in my eyes when my father assaulted me for denying the "Great Book". "The Adam there is the Adam that Lorien sees, and the Adam that I know." She waves her hand, dissolving the scene before us. "Just because you're not Loric doesn't mean you're not good, Adam. In fact, it's because you're not Loric that you have my powers. Lorien saw the kindness in your heart even though you were raised to hate us." One sets herself down on the bed, placing a palm over one of my hands and squeezing lightly. "And I see it too."

I'm speechless, to be honest. It never occurred to me that Lorien might choose me to wield its powers, to recognize me as a "Defender of Lorien". I'd always assumed that the only reason I even had One's powers was because I was stealing them from her. To hear that Lorien itself might have recognized me as an ally... It was eye-opening.

"Our time here is up," One says abruptly. "Three is up, and Kasha is beginning to wake."

Inside my mindscape the Loric warrior and the Mogadorian princess shimmer, moving to match their current state. Kasha stirs beside me, rolling over as she stretches slowly. I sigh. "Alright," I mutter. "Let's go see what today has in store for us."

One kisses my cheek before shimmering out of existence. "One last thing, I promise." Her disembodied voice is chilling, seeming to come from everywhere at once. "I think I'm kinda in love with you."

My mindscape shatters with One's final words, revealing the real world in all its tangible glory. I feel my cheeks heating as One's words register in my brain. "Great," I mumble, trying to hide my blush. "Not only do I have to save the world with powers that don't belong to me, but the dead girl who lives in my brain is in love with me." I shake my head slowly. "I wonder if being crazy runs in the family."

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Marina

The night air is cool as I lay awake in my bed, the mountain breeze drifting through the open window. It carries with it the scent of moonlace, the silver-white lily the Sisters grow beside the lake. I breathe it in, then sigh. The others couldn't smell it, but I could. A moth flutters against the glass of the lantern, the sound of its velvet wings brushing against the glass too soft for the other girls to hear. Somewhere in the room, a pebble falls, the foundation of the centuries-old building settling.

The other girls couldn't hear it, but I could.

I wasn't like them.

Adelina insisted that I be normal, be like the other girls that stayed in the Mission of Santa Theresa. She insisted that I ignore the lies the Elders fed us since birth, instead focusing on our 'true purpose on Earth'. I shuddered. Adelina stopped believing in Lorien many years ago, just shortly after we came to the Mission.

She stopped believing in me.

My development of Legacies didn't sway her, either. She ignored them like she ignored me, brushed aside as if they were nothing. As if I was nothing.

Spending eleven years inside the Mission walls is enough to make most of the girls go crazy, but it hits me the worst. The other girls don't know anything other than the Mission, the walls of Santa Theresa having closed them in most of their life. They don't know the world outside, the pain and suffering that can be caused by a single action.

But I do.

We arrived on Earth when I was six, eleven years ago. After a year spent in transwarp, our ship had reached Earth and had landed deep in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, USA. Or at least, that's what Adelina says.

Our arrival was masked by a storm of our own creation, an overland thunderstorm the likes of which hadn't been seen in decades. Weathermen called it the storm of the century. Wisps of steam curled off the ship, the tendrils of energy the only remnants of our entry. I remember shivering, the cold of the night air sending chills down my spine. I hadn't felt the wind in a year. Someone was waiting there for us, I don't know who. They called themselves Greeters, or Welcomers, or something like that. It was clear they were Terran, native humans of Earth who had been warned ahead of time of our arrival.

Nobody knew who the Welcomers were, but it didn't matter. They handed each of us a large envelope and two sets of clothes, then sent us on our way. To this day I still don't know what was in those envelopes; Adelina never opened ours when I was watching.

That was when we all split up. I watched as the others all faded away, each Loric pair drifting further and further away before finally disappearing from view.

Then the Charm took hold. I thought myself lucky at first, being named Seven. I wouldn't die as soon as the others, I told myself. I'd have more time to practice my Legacies, to train and learn to defend myself. I'd have more time to rebuild Lorien. I wasn't like the poor soul that was One, the first fated to die at the hands of the Mogadorians. My Legacies would protect me, I told myself. The Charm would protect me.

I couldn't have been more deluded.

When One died I realized that I was one step closer to death, my enemy one step closer to me. The scar circling my right ankle was one that would never go away, not even after the Charm broke. Likewise, the Loric number for One would never fade from my left ankle, the smell of bubbling flesh forever scorched in my memory. One was dead, and that meant Two was the next in line. Then Three. Then Four.

If One was the first line of defense against the Mogs, then that meant that I was one of the last hopes to win.

Lorien's last hope to survive rested on mine, Eight, and Nines shoulders.

As I lay in bed, it occurred to me just how heavy that weight really was. Should Three through Six not survive the coming battles, it was up to me to gather the remaining Garde and wage war against Setrakus Ra and his army.

I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding, sighing loudly in the darkness. The black night swallowed my breath, echoing back only the chirping of the crickets outside. A myriad of possible scenarios played out in my mind's eye, each one ending worse than the last.

Three, ripped to shreds at the hands of some horrid Mog beast.

Four, beheaded by a scout and their life-sucking sword.

Five, forced to kneel before Setrakus Ra before being stabbed through the heart.

Six, gunned down before being impaled by knives.

The corpses of my fellow Garde, being paraded around a warship like some sort of sick, demented trophy. It made me want to vomit just thinking about it.

Finally, I turned over, pulling the blanket up to my chin before shuddering. However the next few months would go, it wouldn't be pretty in the end. I needed to start my training tomorrow or I wouldn't survive. If Adelina wouldn't help me, I'd help myself.

I sigh deeply once more, the realization that I might be in this war alone settling in. In eleven years I'd not had a single ounce of training from her, and tomorrow wouldn't be any different.

"Otherwise," I whisper to the dark, "I'm fucked."

End Chapter 1

A.N.

Well, what did you think?

We've already seen two points of view, so in keeping with the original series, who do you guys think will be the final POV? Six? Maddy? Nine? Leave your thoughts in the towel section, and I'll see you all next chapter.

Remember, review and favorite the story if you like it and follow it if you want to know when a chapter comes out.

Until next time!

- Discordant Night