Together Forever and Ever, But Only For Now 2
Author Note: I read "The Last Days of Lorien"...:D :D :D :D :D :D :D. It was EPIC, it was, like, PERFECT! SO MANY FEEEEEEELLLLSSSSS. Any due revisions I came to in the book shall be installed into this story! ^_^
P.S. I HIGHLY suggest reading it, then maybe reading more of THIS story. :)
All she knew was that everything had changed in a very short amount of time.
It had begun as a normal day, at least. She'd be playing dress up with her best friends, Koral and Mei, when the ground shook beneath them. Her grandmother, a widow of three years, ran up, looking frantic. The Garde were running around, all of them using all of the Legacies she'd learned of and more. The Cepans were falling, terrified screams echoing in the air.
The screams of the fallen.
Now Number One just stood quietly in the corner her Cepan had faced her into, for fighting with one of the 'pipsqueaks.' The screams echoing omniously in his head, replaying like a broken record along with the scenes of blood, terror, and bitter defeat.
That's my planet, she thought, tears beginning to sting her eyes as the younger children's tears began dwindling to heartbroken sniffles, my people. Grandmama told me I was going to save them...but...I was too late.
At the point, One began wondering what was the point of fighting when it was already too late.
"What on Lorien is this?"
That was all she could ask as she wrinkled her nose at the packet in front of her. It looked processed, which she hadn't seen the likes of, not since Lorien went all-natural like it did. Her Cepan just sat beside her, pouring a glass of water into said packet. It slowly turned into something warm and hot, which she poured in a glass bowl. One just stared at it, stars in her eyes for curiousity and tightness in her jaw from her stubborn streak.
"It looks nasty," she decides.
"It's diner," Seven's Cepan, Adel, coaxed gently to all of them who sat around the table, "it'll taste just like meatloaf."
"But meatloaf is nasty!" One whined.
"Come on, Bellintine," her Cepan, Hessu, urged quietly from where she was sitting wearily. Ever since the first Garde destined to die had recovered from her sickness just the past day, Hessu had been tired, worried sick for what she referred to as a 'suicide mission' and just when it would be too last for both of them, especially the nine year old.
The Garde were know mainly referred to as their numbers in the order Lordais set them into, but for this occasion, Hessu was just tired, and little One could see that. Feeling a bit guilty, she picked up her spoon, poking at the slop before her.
Meatloaf? she mourned mentally, more like meatgross!
"This stuff is squishy!" Nine announced obviously from the opposite end of the table, plunging his tiny hands into the stuff and feeling around; he squealed at the texture.
"Stop it!" One whined herself, wishing for the younger boy to shush it up.
It just wasn't fair in the young girl's eyes. From what she'd overheard through the air ducts of the 'sick room', she was supposed to be the first to die, along with Hessu. Everybody else apparently wouldn't; it bite enough. But she didn't like the tiny rooms of the ship, or all the other kids that much. They were all so energized and stuff; she just wasn't into all that. She was more interested in doing 'grown up' stuff, like dressing up and waiting for her Legacies.
But now it seemed like it was all ruined, just like because of the Mog meanies.
"Please stop crying..." Five was trying. She really, really was, and One could really, really tell it.
But it really, really wasn't working.
It seemed like every night since they'd first boarding the ship, (at that was a little less than a month ago,) Two had woken up crying. During the day, she was pretty lively, running around with Three and Five and willingly doing the pre-combat exercies, like simple calethestics and warm-ups before One on Ones, which was when it was just the Cepan and the Garde. (One kind of liked group time better, since Hessu was so stressful and strict and stuff.) Either way, when it was just all the young Garde together, Two was a totally crybaby.
"I want Grandmama!" she was crying softly now, being careful not to wake her own Cepan, Jacques. who was pretty loving and forgiving, but was someone she never wanted to be a bother to.
"Well...maybe you can see her one day..." Five attempted, but that only upset the slightly older girl even more.
"Okay, kids," One finally got tired of all the failed attempts at comfort and stood up, marching to the middle of the 'room' that all the girls were sharing, "let's all shut the heck up and get some sleep. I need my beauty rest, you know!"
"If that's what you call it, you need a lotta it..." Six snickered from her bed, inspiring the older girl to jump on the bed, eyes ablaze.
"What did you just say?!" she demanded lowly, her tone angry.
"Please stop!" Seven finally cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks rapidly as she curled up weakly, trying to contain the volumes to what her cries reached, "please...I don't want you guys to fight...'
"Niether do I!" One protested, getting to her feet and stomping back to her bed, "forget all of you!"
"B-but..." both Two and Seven were sputtering.
"Just shut up!" Six finally yelled, shoving her pillow of her head. For once, One actually agreed with the tomboyish younger girl.
"You're doing great!"
Brandon was encouraging and all, but One had to roll her eyes. She didn't like all of this pre-combat training stuff; she felt like it was pointless when all of her fighting wouldn't do her any good. At least, that's how Hessu made it sound, so the young girl obviously believed in that theory. She'd used the word 'suicide' before, but whatever it meant, the young girl was positive it wasn't good. None the less, she was stuck in the bleak room for all of these exercises, even if wasn't terribly long. Right now they were all supposed to be doing twenty push-ups, and while she hated doing that, she thought the others' efforts were funny.
The little Two girl was struggling, her budding tears of frustration mixing in with her sweat. Her arms with all thin and scrawny; she wasn't built for working out. The really young boy, Three, was sweating practical bugets, but at least he was getting the job done. He was a chubby, tan little boy; he wasn't built for much work, either.
The really shy little boy, Four, was doing pretty good. He was still slow, his movements slow and precise, despite Brandon's constantly reassurances that he was doing it all correctly. Five had already finished, like herself, and was practically enjoying the 'show' with Six. Quietly, the oldest Garde left alive motioned them over to sit by her. Much to her surprise, they complied.
The bashful, more gentle set girl, Seven, was struggling. She was crying openly, looking very insecure and scared. The terrified, yet curious, little boy, Eight, was just finishing up his push-ups. He was more built for battle, and for training. The last one, Number Nine, was doing more than what they were assigned. His Cepan, Sandor, was just smiling at him, chuckling.
He's nothin but trouble, One judged him silently, and he'll be the luckiest. SO not fair...
