Amount of words without Disc./warning/etc: 2 383

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lorien Legacies and am not making any profit from this story. It is written merely for entertainment. The idea of the whole world knowing about the Lorics came from oreny19.

WARNING!: Cursing in this chapter.

Author's Note: I'm sooo sorry for the long wait. Firstly, my mom's cut off our internet. For good. Secondly, school (and surprisingly, my vacation) has been hectically busy. Thirdly, I've had major writer's block. It's gone now, though. Characters OOC.

Thanks to twilight-hearts-gallagher, PartyPony2 and Anna for the reviews :)

Recap: I said nothing else. I had a feeling that I shouldn't have said that, and that tonight would only end in disaster.



The drive to the Smith's place seemed to take an eternity. I felt stupid for telling Henri that I was on the same ship as him for a year. He hadn't replied though and I was starting to feel a little worried.
Finally we arrived. Henri opened the car door for me before I had a chance to open it myself. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion but followed him and John into the house. Henri excused himself, saying that he had some work to do. He told John and me to go up to John's room. When we reached it I just stood awkwardly in the doorway. John gave me a look and patted the space next to him. Reluctantly, I took a seat on the bed next to him.
"So why did you move here, Sam?" he finally asked.
I sighed. "It's actually a family secret," I said. "Sorry."
John leaned back onto his pillows and smiled bitterly. "Don't worry; we have loads of them, too."
I closed my eyes and leaned my chin on my chest.
"Tired?" John asked. I nodded and opened my eyes again, only to see John scoot over a bit to the left. He patted the bed space next to him and said, "I don't bite, Sam. And don't worry, I'm not a pervert or something."
I gave him a look, but in the end I just shrugged and lay down next to him. I breathed in deeply; John smelled so nice. He had an earthy smell, but also fresh like rain and spearmints. An odd combination, but it smelled nice anyway. "John, I'm gonna sleep a bit. Wake me up when Alex comes?"
John promised to wake me up and threw his comforter over me.
Sleep came quickly, as did my dream.

I sat up, gasping for air. I barely registered the hot tears that ran down my cheeks. I looked down at my stomach from where I could feel a burning hot pain. My eyes widened when I saw the red stain on my t-shirt. I gently lifted the t-shirt. Large gashes ran the width of my stomach. Basically, it was all cut up. How the hell was that even possible? But then I remembered my dream. I had been captured by the Mogadorians. They had made the large gash in my stomach in an effort to torture answers about the whereabouts of Numbers Four and Five. But that didn't explain the actual wound on my stomach. It was just a dream, wasn't it?
There was a knock on the door, and only then did I realize I was alone in the room. "Just give me a minute!" I yelled, panicking.
"Um, it's John. I just wanted to say that your father is here."
I immediately calmed down, knowing my Cêpan was there to help me. "Can you send him up, please? I – I don't feel so well, and Alex will have some pills for me."
"Okay," came through the door, followed by his retreating footsteps. It wasn't long before the bedroom door burst open and Alex came through. The first thing he saw was my bloodied shirt. He quickly closed the door behind him and made his way to me. His eyes only held concern for me. "What happened, Sammy?"
I wiped at my tears and explained my dream to him. I doubted that I made much sense, but I kept on babbling anyway. Alex ran his hand through his dark hair. "Shit," he mumbled. "I don't know what this means, Sammy. How can they hurt you through your dreams? What if they do it again, and I'm not there-" His voice sounded choked.
Surprisingly there were tears in Alex's eyes. I gently put my hand on his cheek. "It's okay, Alex. We'll figure this out, alright?"
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and nodded at me. Finally after a few seconds he opened them again and scanned the room around him. He looked back at me. "Stay here. I'm going to call Henri."
"What, why?" I asked, grabbing his hand so that he couldn't leave the room. "John is going to wonder what's going on."
Alex looked impatient as he said, "His girlfriend is here, and she'll keep him occupied for a while."
"John has a girlfriend?" I asked, shocked. Without replying, Alex left the room. It annoyed me that he just walked out, but I could kind of understand that he was really stressed, so I decided to forgive him just this once.
I leaned back against John's pillows and looked at the spot where I slept. Luckily no blood had spilled onto the bed covers, except for John's comforter. I once again lift my shirt and look at the bloody mess on my stomach. I felt a small amount of fear in my gut. How was it possible for the Mogadorians to hurt me through my dreams, and more importantly, how did they know that I even existed? The only ones who knew were the president and the Cêpan.
My thoughts trailed off, distracted by my stomach. Only now did I feel the sharp pain coming from my cut up stomach, and I bit my lip so hard to keep from screaming out loud that it started bleeding. "Oh fuck," I muttered just as Henri and Alex entered the room. I blushed and quickly apologized. They didn't seem to mind, though.
"Are you alright, Analeigh?" Henri asked me, sitting down beside me.
Just when I was about to tell him that yes, I was alright, another sharp pain took my breath away. Biting my lip hard, I shook my head. Henri noticed my bleeding lip but soon looked down at my stomach. He took a washing cloth, dunked it in a bowl of lukewarm water that I hadn't even noticed until now, and gently cleaned the blood from my cut up stomach. Then he applied pressure to it until the blood flow stopped, or slowed down as much as possible, before applying disinfectant. It hurt like a bitch, but I couldn't exactly complain. I looked away as Henri quickly stitched me up and did whatever it was that he did. Finally he patted me on my head and said that he was done. "Thanks, Henri," I said, feeling a bit better already.
"No problem, kiddo." He then handed me a t-shirt that he had brought with him when he first came into the room, and also a hoodie that belonged to him. It was plain black with no logo or anything. Henri then left the room, saying that he'll meet us downstairs. I avoided Alex's concerned gaze as I redressed. We'll talk later, I promised myself.

Ten minutes later, I found myself standing in front of the Smith's bathroom mirror. Before I had left John's room, I'd told Alex to go downstairs, and that I needed a few moments to myself. And now here I was. But looking into the mirror, I could see something was different. My used-to-be golden blonde hair was now a few shades lighter, taking the golden look away and replacing it with a more blonde color instead of golden. My bright blue eyes had darkened a bit. Now it rather looked like a stormy gray with a little bit of my original blue. I was a bit miffed; I had rather liked how I looked before, and now really wasn't the time for my legacy to act up, especially when I still didn't have control over it.
I didn't want to go downstairs and have dinner while I looked different, but what choice did I have? If I was lucky, John and his girl wouldn't notice that I looked different, nor the fact that I was actually in a shit-load amount of pain.
No such luck.
As soon as I stepped a foot into the living room, John immediately asked what was wrong. Sarah (a very beautiful teenager, and John's girlfriend) had agreed with him, and said that I was walking strangely. Me, being oh so mature, just ignored the both of them and made my way into the kitchen where Alex and Henri were having a hushed conversation. Seeing as they hadn't noticed me yet, I decided to listen to what was being said. Unfortunately, just at that moment Sarah also walked into the kitchen and stumbled over a stray pair of shoes. Alex and Henri stopped talking and looked at Sarah. She blushed and quickly left the room. I kept my face blank and my eyes narrowed. Alex was serious as he asked me what I heard. Trying my luck, hoping they would say something, I said in a flat voice that I heard everything.
Alex cursed colorfully in a language I couldn't identify, and then he turned desperate hazel eyes to look directly into my now-stormy gray ones. "Listen, Sam, I can explain."
It hurt me to her Alex sound so desperate, and I almost felt sorry for him. The keyword being 'almost'. I mean, if he sounded like this about something I supposedly overheard, then it must be pretty bad. So I convinced myself to not feel bad, telling myself that I had the right to hear what they were talking about. I schooled my expression so that it was cold, hard, and quite pissed. "Explain," I said curtly.
"Can we…can we do it at home?" Alex asked me pleadingly.
"Now," I said, forcing my voice into an angry growl.
Alex, looking resigned, took a seat at the kitchen table and motioned for me to do the same. I shook my head stubbornly and kept my arms crossed to look angry. Henri left the kitchen and closed the door behind him. I could hear music being started in another room, probably to ensure us our privacy. "Do you know what your purpose is for being here on Earth?" Alex asked me, looking pathetically at his hands.
I felt confused and a little irritated. "Of course I do, Alex," I said in an irritated voice. "What a silly question."
"What is it, then?" he asked.
"To protect, watch, and befriend the Nine by assuming different appearances," I replied.
Alex shook his head tiredly, but his pathetic look had gone. Instead he looked every bit a cold-hearted warrior. He looked as if he wasn't my friend, and it sent a spark of dread through my gut. "That's not all, Sam. Think. Why would you have this Legacy specifically?"
That was actually a good question. Originally I had thought that it would be so that I would be able to do spy work, and to confuse the Mogadorians by changing into a double of the Number they were confronting. But what Alex told me was that it was more – much more – than that, and that I had to think. But for some reason my mind was frozen, refusing to think, refusing to accept what it already subconsciously knew.
"It's so that you can die in their place if necessary, Analeigh," Alex said in a strong voice, back to using my real name. "It's so that you can fool the Mogadorians into thinking that they killed a Number, but instead - they kill you."
"No," I whispered, horrified. I shook my head in denial. "That can't be true. It's too horrible..."
"They made you like this," Alex continued in a hard voice. "That was the only condition they had for allowing us to go to Earth: So that you can sacrifice yourself. Numerous times."
"Numerous times?" I asked him in a faint voice, my sight blurred with tears.
"Yes. You can die five times and come back, Analeigh," Alex said. "But it will be horrible. To awaken you will have to go through double the amount of pain of the cause of death. Do you understand, Analeigh?"
"Why would they do that?" I whispered. "Why would you allow them to do that?"
"I had to," Alex replied, his expression stony. "Why are you upset about this? You are supposed to be deliriously happy that you could help save the Loric race, but instead you are crying like a child."
"But I am a child!" I exploded. "I am just a child, Alex! I'm fourteen years old, for goodness sake! And what the FUCK were you thinking when you told them I would DIE NUMEROUS TIMES SO THAT THEY COULD LIVE?! ARE YOU CRAZY, ALEX?" I screamed at him. Who was this man, and what had he done to my Alex? Alex was good-hearted and hated anything to do with violence and death. The nice Alex - the one that actually cared about me like a daughter - was here ten minutes ago. But this Alex, oh no, he thought I should be happy to be able to die and come back to life through excruciating pain. To Hell with this. I shook my head angrily at Alex – no, Alexander, I corrected myself – and stormed out of the kitchen. I could barely see because my sight was blurred with tears and ran smack into a shocked John Smith. "Samantha-" he started, but I cut him off. "Save it, John!" and stormed out of the house. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion, shock, denial and repulsion. How could they expect that of me? I always knew that one day if necessary I would give my life up to save one of the Nine, but to do it five times? That was completely insane. Alex and the whole effing Loric race were insane, and I had to get out of here. I ran for what felt like hours until I finally stumbled and fell, my wrist hitting the ground wrong and breaking with a sickening crack. A random rock also hit the cut on my stomach as I fell. I cried out in pain and curled into a ball, crying like a little girl. Guess I was a child, just like Alexander said.
My mind barely registered as it began pouring, the rain feeling like icy shards against the exposed parts of my body. My life, my whole life, had changed in a matter of minutes, and I was sure I would never be able to look at any Garde or Cêpan the same way again.