Nine.
The largest number. A symbol of strength. And the burden that plagues us all.
I was five when the Varyas came and razed our planet to the ground. When the cries of my people, choked full of anguish and fear, were forever seared into my mind. When my mother screamed at me to run with her dying breath, and my Warden hauled me away even as I turned back and watched the light fade from her loving, brown eyes.
The nine of us piled onto the ship, leaving in our wake a slew of corpses who had sacrificed themselves for us to make that journey. Shananet placed the Orric charm on each of us, murmuring quiet words into our ears, and gave us a watery smile.
And then the Varyas arrived.
Shananet did not go down easily. It was one against a dozen, yet she fought like the warrior she was. She fought for our planet, she fought for our lives, and she fought for our future. She bought us time, enough for the ship to take off and widen the distance between us and those monsters, to ensure that they couldn't catch us – not that day.
I watched, quivering like a leaf, from the porthole of the skyborne spaceship as Shananet was cut down and the Varyas laid waste to my planet, and something in me broke that day.
The voyage to Earth took almost a year. We were terrified that we would be shot down at any time, and every day I woke up relieved that I was still alive. Even at my young age, I knew how much was at stake, and that we were the only hope Orra had, never mind that nearly everyone I had ever known and loved was already dead and gone.
We were all we had of each other, and still we were forced to separate. Time was not on our side, and the moment we made our landing on Earth, curt farewells were given in the form of brisk words and tight embraces. There were others, too. Humans who handed us backpacks and a letter that held all the basic information we would need to acclimate to Earth.
Someone cried, but I don't remember who.
Perhaps it was me.
Each pair walked off in a different direction, never knowing when we would see each other again, yet also knowing with certainty that the answer might be never. Brock's hand that gripped mine was slightly trembling, yet his steps never faltered.
And not once in the next ten years would they falter either.
"Focus!"
A groan slips out of me as Brock socks me in the jaw. He certainly doesn't pull any punches. I stumble back, swiftly regaining my bearings. Leaping forward, I feint left, and then jab him three times in quick succession on his side. His arm darts forward, winding around my neck, and his other arm pins my hands behind my back.
"Y-yield," I choke out when he applies pressure between my neck.
He releases me, and I gasp for breath.
He hands me a bottle of water and I gulp it down gratefully. My shirt is drenched from the intensive training, and it absolutely guts me that I'm still no match for him, even with my enhanced senses. Brock is freakishly fast, strong and agile – I'd believe him if he claimed he was an Ordained instead of Warden.
"You're too predictable. Your gaze gives away your next move. You're also too afraid of hurting me so you're subconsciously holding back. You gotta stop doing that," Brock criticizes.
I rub the back of my hand across my mouth. "Or maybe you're just too good."
He shakes his head. "I know how much potential you have, Ash, and it's my job to make you reach it. If you're really hell-bent on beating me, nothing can stop you. You're an Ordained."
At least someone has confidence in me.
I glance at the clock.
"I gotta go. Class starts in twenty minutes."
"I'll drive you there. Just let me change first."
When Brock reappears in five minutes, I do a double take. He's dressed in the most expensive button-down shirt he owns, and in crisp black slacks that accentuate his long legs. I sniff the air. Is that cologne that he has put on?
"Uh… Are you going somewhere fancy after this?"
Brock carefully applies hair gel, slicking back his spiky hair. "Yeah, I have a date with Samantha."
I stare at him incredulously. "Wait, weren't you going out with Aubrey?"
"About that…" He sighs forlornly. "She sent me a text saying we should never meet again."
"You got dumped." It wasn't a question.
"I got dumped," he admits.
We walk to the second-hand car that Brock bought when we moved here two years ago, and I muse aloud, "I don't understand your obsession with dating."
Brock just chuckles. "That's because you're still young. One day you will fall in love with someone, Ash, and you'll see the world as I do. They will become the center of your universe, and there's nothing you won't do to keep them safe." He pauses, then adds contemplatively, "Of course I'm still looking for that special someone myself."
I think about it for a second as I clamber into the car.
Romance? Dating? Love?
"Nah," I say dismissively. "My priority will never change. Reviving Orra will always come first to me." I clench my fists. "That's why I'm going to train harder than ever to become the strongest Ordained, and destroy all the Varyas."
Brock starts the engine, and begins driving. "Before you get there, you first need to defeat me and develop your Oracles. Have you seen any sign of them?" His tone is hopeful, but I shake my head glumly.
"Not even a whisper."
"It's fine. You're still young, and your Oracles will manifest when you need them the most," Brock tries to reassure me.
"I sure hope they come soon."
Oracles are what set the Ordained apart from the rest of the Orric population. They are special abilities bestowed by the essence of Orra itself onto the Ordained, who use them for the greater good of Orra. And as one of the seven remaining Ordained, I will come into my powers and use them to avenge my people.
Why seven?
Not for the first time, I glance down at where I know twin circular scars are etched into the bottom of my left calf. Sorrow fills me, followed by bitter fury. We've already lost two of us.
Brock drops me off at the entrance to Pallet High, and I stroll in through the open gates. It's hard to imagine having to be in school when there are extraterrestrial monsters at large hunting for me, but blending in with civilization is important. Looking normal, acting normal while secretly accumulating our strength is what keeps the Varyas off our tail and us alive for another day.
High-pitched squeals assault my ears, and I flinch as a group of girls barrage past me.
"Woah, woah, slow down, ladies… I'm not going anywhere."
I sigh. I know that arrogant drawl.
"In fact, I – Ashy boy?"
I turn around and wave unenthusiastically. "Hey, Gary."
He walks toward me, flanked by half a dozen girls. His assessing gaze almost makes me squirm. "So what is it today? You walked into a tree?"
"Huh?"
He jerks his head toward my neck. "You have a bruise there."
Crap. He's surprisingly intuitive, and frustratingly suspicious.
"Uh, yeah. You know how clumsy I am, don't you?" I give an awkward laugh. "I'll, uh, catch you later."
His amber eyes flash.
Before I can turn away, his hand slams down on my shoulder and he leans in, hissing, "Look, I don't know if you're being abused or you're secretly part of some gang. You think I don't see the strange scars on your leg? The hollow look in your eyes that you have sometimes? There is something weird about you, something unnatural, that I'm going to figure out."
I shake off his grip and say coolly, "I don't know what you're talking about. Keep living in your delusions if you want."
As I stroll away, I feel cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.
Gary Oak is many things, including being relentless when he wants to be. If he's made up his mind to sniff around in my business, then he won't stop until he uncovers my secret. Because he isn't just anyone – he's the grandson of the renowned Professor Oak, and he has so much influence and resources that having him hound after me is bad. Bad enough that Brock will probably insist we pack up and leave Pallet Town before he can dig up anything incriminating.
But as I glance around at the peeling paint on the walls and the sights I've grown so used to, I realize that I don't want to live. We've been here for two years, the longest we've ever stayed at any place, and it's just starting to feel like home.
I can't concentrate on lessons throughout the day, but then again, that's not anything new. My test papers returned to me with big fat Fs circled in bold red, and a note demanding to "See me after class", which is essentially another way of saying I got lectured for a good twenty minutes and missed most of my lunch.
When school lets out, I pack my bag and leave swiftly. A text from Brock tells me that he'll be ten minutes late, so I wander around the outskirts of the campus aimlessly.
And then it happens.
A familiar burn wraps around my calf, intensifying by the second. My eyes widen, and my knees buckle.
No.
No, no.
Gritting my teeth, I stagger to the half-open shed and collapse inside, ragged breaths escaping my lips. I clench my teeth to prevent a scream from leaking out. The burn is now a full-on raging wildfire that has my eyes rolling back. Silent tears stream down my face.
"Ash? Ash!"
Disbelief gives way to panic on Gary's face as he bends down next to me. "Hey, what's going on?"
His gaze darts to where my hands are clawing at my leg. He lifts up the bottom hem of my pants and gasps. "Shit… What the hell!"
His eyes are wide in horror. I know what he's seeing – an angry, red scar carving itself onto my very flesh. A ghastly occurrence that defies all laws of physics.
"Brock," I croak out. "Call Brock."
To his credit, he doesn't ask me any more questions and simply takes my phone, dialing Brock's number. I can't process the words he's saying, except I hear Brock's comforting deep voice from the other line.
"He says he's coming… What is going on, Ash?"
I don't have any more words left to explain to Gary, so I just writhe on the ground.
The pain in my leg is unbearable, but the agony tearing my heart apart is devastating. I'm crying, but not for myself. I'm crying for the Ordained who just died, whom I would never see again, whom I would always known as just "Number Three".
Which is so unfair.
They deserve to be known, to be honored for their sacrifice, to be given a proper burial.
The others… They are feeling this pain, too. Right now, we are united and bound by the same, all-consuming blaze that rips away at us. Somewhere out there, five other teenagers are also doubled over in pain, crushed by the death of our compatriot. The Varyas are probably cheering, celebrating. They're one step closer to the complete obliteration of our race.
The bleakness of our situation causes my eyes to squeeze out a few more stray tears.
When I hear Brock's frantic footsteps, I half-walk, half-crawl to him, where I collapse into his arms and sob.
"The Varyas got to them…"
"I know." His voice is full of grim acceptance.
"Number Three is, is gone…"
"I know." He rubs comforting circles on my back.
I peel back from him and stare him in the eyes. When I speak, my words come out in a scratchy whisper.
"And I am next."
A/N:
So… It's been a while, huh? *nervous laughter* Let's talk about the Donphan in the room – my other fics that are glaring at me accusingly. Particularly ATPS… whom I haven't abandoned. I think. I don't know. It's just writing it got really overwhelming and tiring, especially when the foundation of my plot was collapsing underneath me. I still have hope to revive it someday, but it'll take a while. I probably need to restructure the whole plot. As for my other fics, I hope I can update them soon, and I'm really sorry if you've been waiting for my updates.
And now, moving on to this fic! It's based on the book series 'Lorien Legacies', and for those who are familiar with it… Yeah, many plot elements have been inspired by it. "Our Awakening" is the first book in a series, and I'm glad to say that I have it fully planned out so the chances of it being completed are the highest of all my fics. (Granted, I don't have a great track record…) It will feature primarily Amourshipping (Ash x Serena), but later in the series, more POVs will be added, alongside the other main ships of Ikari (Paul x Dawn), Contest (May x Drew), and Ego (Gary x Misty).
(Essentially recycling my ATPS ships but you didn't see this.)
For those who are confused with the plot, here's a simple summary for now:
Ash is from the planet Orra, and part of the species known as Orric. When another species called the Varyas invaded his home planet, he, alongside eight others, was shoved onto a spaceship with their Wardens (kind of like guardians) and sent to Earth to live and fight another day. They are protected by a morbid charm that ensures the Varyas can only kill them in order. And now, ten years later, with the death of Number Three, Ash knows he is next…