Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Lorien Legacies or any of the Garde apart from Five. But this is my take on a sequel so please enjoy. Remember, you can leave any prompts or tips!

Five

Located in Palestine

"I will think over it."

A sudden movement in the corner of my eye makes me aware of how tense the situation actuary is. When I say the situation, I am referring to the five very tense Mogadoriens all of which have very different view to me when it comes to uniting with the rest of the garde. I am wary that several of them are starting to lose patients so as Rye comes up in to my face I am not surprised. He expects us to make a move now.

"Damn it Five!" He hisses in to my face and I can feel his spit splatter my cheek. That is just unpleasant and unnecessary since the plumbing in the base is dire, there will be no facilities to clean his disgusting salvia off.

"You have had time, a week of time in fact and I don't think I am just speaking for me when I say you have had enough!" Rye stands at least a head taller than me and with his muscular build and dark, beady eyes he could be very intimidating but not to me. To me he is just plain rude and behaving like a spoilt child. I consider him to be one of my closest allies and I know his intentions are good but he can be a major annoyance from time to time.

"Stop whining like a kicked dog" I say back as I stare up in to his dark eyes. The room around us is deadly quiet and I can sense the tension. The worry that this could turn nasty and the way Rye is looking at me right now I have a feeling it probably will.

I see a flash of movement and my head hits off the wall behind. My ears ring for a moment as Ryes' hand closes around my throat. He is bored and frustrated and I sense a hint of something I don't recognise, Angst maybe? Well he is not long out of his teenage years so I guess it is to be expected. Still, as I feel the heat rising in my cheeks I know he has pushed me too far.

There is a sickening crunch as Ryes heavy body hits the wall in front of me and slumps down on the floor. I did not raise my hand to him but I did not need to, my legacies reacted for me and sent him crashing in to the hard concrete. I rub at the area on my neck where his hand has been seconds before and walk slowly towards him. I take my time, He is barely conscious and with his arm sticking out at that odd angle I know he will be going nowhere in a hurry. I stand above him and wait until he looks up before slowly putting my foot on top of one of his legs.

"You know Rye..." I say quietly, my voice is quiet but menacing and my words hand in the musty air as the onlookers shrink away from us; with the exception of Byron who seems to be watching intently as if studying some sort of test specie. His curiosity concerns me for a moment but a moan from Rye brings my attention back to him. "...One day that nasty temper of yours is going to get you in to a lot of bother." I apply more pressure to his leg and watch pain fill his eyes as the bones start to protest. I can still feel his hand around my throat, touching me and trying to harm me and I know that I am going to break his leg.

"Five..." He moans and I am just angered as I sense his intent. Rye is not going to beg or try to prevent me from hurting him further but he is going to continue to attempt to convince me to see his way. Times like this I really have to admire people like Rye, their bravery, but in the end he has attempted to wring my neck and I take those things personally. I stare blankly in to his dark eyes as he tenses, already anticipating the agony to come but a voice distracts me from my torturous intent and I shift around to see Byron sat back calmly, studying me.

"Break his leg if you wish Five but what he says is right. In order to operate as smoothly as you wish..." He stops himself for a moment "...As smoothly as we wish we need to start making moves now and that will be impossible unless you give us some idea of your intentions regarding the Garde!"

Something in Byrons' tone makes me stop and I pull my foot off Rye. A steady stream of blood is pouring from his temple where his head impacted the wall and another Mogadorien named Carlton moves to help him up. I watch silently as Carlton helps Rye in to a chair far away from me and starts to straighten out his arm: my friend fights to keep silent as his mangled arm is worked in to position and set in a sling.

Can I really trust my own judgment if this is what it leads to?

I sink down with my back against the wall and rest my head against it. The wall is cold and it sooths me slightly as I struggle to come to a decision. Byron is right, they need answers now.

My head is throbbing and the pain distracts my train of thought. A migraine perhaps? Can Lorics get migraines? I am disgruntled at how little I know about my own culture. I have no true identity; I do not know my name or date of birth or a single solid fact about myself, there is not a single photo of me anywhere and if I die there will not even be a tombstone to mark the spot. I am a ghost. I close my eyes in an attempt to block out some of the pain as I massage my temples.

Sighing softly I give my final decision. "Fine, yes, go ahead. If you think it is for the best..." I nod towards where Byron is sat "Then we will ally with the garde."

A hiss of satisfaction runs round the room as my allies celebrate the outcome. The certainly approve of my choice so there will be not problems there. I keep my eyes shut as the people around me begin to rush around making plans and organising weapons. Byron is presenting some of his ideas but I don't pay attention, I trust his ideas and don't need to check them through for reassurance. I don't trust the Garde though. I don't know them so why would I? I don't share my plans with strangers so why should I share them with strangers whom just so happen to have powers? I regret that we must ally with them but the others are right, we could use the extra strength.

"You don't want to meet the other Garde?"

A foreign voice from right next to me grabs my attention and my eyes snap open. I jerk my head around and see wanderer crouched beside me looking down with an expression which could only be concern. The accent is strange but then I guess, being deaf, she can't hear what she is saying so how would she know what she sounds like? I wonder how much of what goes on around her she understands. She seldom involves herself in our convocations but I suppose she may have been able to teach herself to lip read.

"I don't like strangers." I say simply.

She nods and looks thoughtful for a moment. Wanderer has always been a bit of a mystery to me; I think she is like the other Mogadoriens here who allied with me for revenge but even for a female Mogadorien she seems somewhat... odd. Dark brown hair grows out past her chin where it then turns black as if she gave up dying it a long time ago and simply let it grow out. In other company she might be considered tall but surrounded by soldiers she just seems vulnerable. Scars that criss-cross over her arms and dark shadows under her eyes from sleepless night are evidence of torture but other than that she would be quite pretty.

I am not in the mood for making small talk though and move to get up. It sounds like Byron thinks the Garde will come looking for me so we don't need to leave the base. He thinks that they have some sort of tracker device and this irritates me because I have spent my whole life trying to be off the map. If this tracker falls in to the wrong hands there would be no where for me to hide (not that I was planning on hiding but still...) I don't trust a group of teenagers to protect it. I want some fresh air and exercise. It is too crowded in here and I need to clear my head. I move to open the door and escape in to the night but a voice stops me.

"You're not alone you know."

Wanderers' poor logic. Of course I am alone; I am the last of a dying race, destined to fight to the death. It doesn't get more alone than that. But I can do alone; I have my entire life but it impossible to be alone with other people... isn't it? I laugh quietly and step out and the cold night air blows in to my face.

Forever alone but I am strong like that.