Loric's Forgotten

Chapter Two

As we walk into Avon-Village the next day, I notice immediately something is different. The reason me and Nyx chose this as a good place for a hide out is because it's so secluded and peaceful. When the war started the farmers evacuated for the cities or larger towns, where their families were. When the Mogs arrived, everyone was gone, so they moved on quickly. Last time we came here, it was the most pristine town in Lorien. Twelve cottages, all with thatched roofs and prettily painted walls. We would stay here all the time, lest for fear of Mogs and the necessary supplies we could scavenge from the city. Now the thatch was scorched and brown, and the walls had red graffiti with slogans in some foreign language. The streets were filled with empty crates, crumbling bricks, and rotting furniture from the cottages interiors.

Nyx and I just stood there, quite surprised and completely unsure what to do at this point.

Bam!

I jumped a foot in the air, then ran behind the large loarm tree, shivering. I peaked out just a bit but saw nothing.

Whatever made that noise must be on the other side of the cottage, I said to Nyx.

What do you think it was?, She replied telepathically.

Our question is answered suddenly when a group of four Magodorians step out from behind the cottage. They are obviously oblivious to my presence as they begin to have a loud conversation about standard military protocol in case of a tsunami. I stand behind the tree, completely still. After ten minutes, and hearing a detailed list of the commanding officers and their assigned positions, I start to feel nervous. I'm less than ten feet away from a group of enemy armed soldiers. If I ran, they would see me. Great, just great.

I wish we knew what they are saying. Nyx said sadly.

I can understand them.

That's impossible. Where would you have learned it from?

I don't know. Just shh so I can listen.

Why are the soldiers back? There's nothing left to fight on Lorien! There's nothing here at all.

Another soldier comes running from another direction. The direction of my... Oh, crap!

'Look what I found in one of the abandoned cottages!'

The others gathered close and they started talking hurriedly.

'It's bread. Fresh bread.' A Magodorian exclaimed. They have found my bread. I was so pleased with myself when I had finally managed to master the recipe I'd found in a Earth delicacy cookbook. Now those horrible, slimy, beings are eating it.

'But how? We haven't seen anything living but a few bugs.'

Their chatter escalated and the small crowd grew. Magodorians started searching for the 'baker'. It was growing more dangerous by the second the stay behind the tree.

Sticking my balled up fists into my pocket, I start to stalk away as silently as possible. On Lorien, there used to be a time where we could protect ourselves. Now, it's just me. I have no legacies. I was intended to be a Cepan when I reached the proper age, as are most Loric from the lower classes. I can't fight. All I can do is hide.

I walk fast, and suddenly, I hear a loud whizzing sound and the ground flies toward me. It takes me a split second to realize I've tripped (now is not the time to be clumsy, Araela!), my face is on the ground, and they're coming. I jump up, but I'm not quick enough.

A Magodorian pounces from behind a cottage and I throw myself into a blind sprint. He aims and fires his blaster cannon, and I turn behind a barn.

What do we do?! I hear Nyx shrieking telepathically as I struggle to catch my breath.

Run. The only thought my crazed brain can form. So that's what I do.

I am nauseous and dizzy, but I can't stop. I stagger past piles of burning furniture and veneer (oh, the ONE place on Lorien not completely obliterated!). The burning roofs and the smells of smoke and mold blur as I dash through Avon-Village. My arms and legs are swinging wildly as the Mogs start to fire. They are yelling something at each other that I can't quite make out. What I can hear, though, is the sound of blasters.

I sprint past two more cottages and halt as I enter the moor. Miles of outstretched grassland leading up to picturesque hills; only interrupted by the occasional laughing brook- at least that's how I like to remember it. Only one thing can be said for the current state of the moor- it's open. Not a good place to hide under any circumstances. Even if I ran for two miles from my actual location, they would still be able to see me.

The only other option would be the cliffs; the unstable 200 foot drop offs into the rocky shoreline and diseased waters that are Lorien's ocean. There were legends of Lorics escaping and hiding underground during the last weeks of the war, but people will come up with anything to keep morale high.

Nyx?!

I can't help but call to her, even though she is probably even more disoriented than I.

No answer- she's fainted. I'm on my own.

I swirl around to see a crowd of 20 Mogs rushing towards me, all with highly equipped blasters in hand. Not far out of shooting range, and I can't run forever...

I glance behind me at the moor. Sure death. I look towards the cliffs. At least if I fall they can't use my body for their sick science experiments. The smell of death grows dimmer and the scent of salty water grows stronger as I head for the cliffs.

Dashing around a jagged boulder, I see a narrow stony path leading downwards. It's steep and looks very dangerous, but I don't have much of a choice. I head down and turn with the path. Running isn't an option. If I move faster than a snail's pace, I'll surely fall into the wild waves, two hundred feet below.

Inching my way downward, I start calling to Lorien. There were old legends about the planet being alive, saying that if true heroes called to her for help, she would. Please. I'm so desperate that it's all I can manage to say telepathically.

A burning sensation creeps down my face, and I realize a tip of my hair is burning. The Mogs' blasters were that close to hitting my face. As I glance up, I realize they're following me, and gaining fast.

I turn another corner and head farther down the slope. Not fast enough. I don't have enough energy. There's only one thing I can do now. Nyx is unconcsious, but I know without a doubt she would agree.Reaching my hand up, I grasp gently on the rocky wall to my left, and push.

It seems like the drop wouldn't take long, but it does, and the ocean turns into a kaleidoscope, only I can't look away.

It's funny this is how I end, especially as I've always loved the ocean so much. Many years ago, no, lifetimes ago, my family would come here for vacations. We'd play in the oceans and sing songs of great water beasts and magical sea shells. The icy wind stings my face, and I press my eyes closed.

At the last possible second, arms reach out and grab my arms and legs roughly, pulling me into an unknown place. I descend into the dark waves.