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The Esoteric Design: Civilization Lost Page 14
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Lita giggled. “Yes!”
War had always been a constant for the Sorcēarian race, but lately, it had spread to all the continents. Daily, hundreds to thousands died. It was becoming unmanageable, even for Dovian’s people. At one time, the Sorcēarians feared the overpopulation of their race, but humanity’s battles had cut their numbers enough to prevent that from happening, and the death tolls from all sides were growing exponentially. These were dangerous times.
Lita’s visions had come sporadically throughout her life, for no good reason. Dovian had no idea why the girl had any of the premonitions, as they rarely affected her directly. The visions seemed random and unrelated to her. Still, they often inflicted emotional harm. She may not be physically present during the time of her dreams playing out, but she still felt and saw pieces of the events. For not being a warrior, Lita had seen plenty of deaths through her mind’s eye, and she was helpless to do anything about it; she was forced to watch them all. As much as she acted like the visions didn’t bother her, Dovian knew they were troubling. Even he had difficulties when out on the field. Lita, the girl who wanted nothing more than a simple lizard, dreamt of death and carnage. Still, she carried on and held herself quite well, always forcing a smile, saying something silly, or dancing in a way to make others laugh. As much as Lita goofed around, Dovian could see the hurt behind her smile. He was one of the few who could.
As the two walked up the stairs, he caught Lita’s uneasy gaze. The vision must have been particularly bothersome. Dovian cleared his throat, balling his hands into fists as he attempted a clumsy cha-cha dance up the stairs. Lita’s eyes set aglow; a high-pitched giggle erupted from her. She followed his actions, throwing her head back as she mimicked his ridiculous dance. Dovian chuckled with her. Both dramatically entered the school by throwing the doors open as the bell signaled the start of the next class. They didn’t care, their laughs echoing as they shuffled down the hall toward room 303. As they passed the threshold, they quickly composed themselves.
“Get in your seat!” Dovian called out and pointed to Lita’s chair. He coolly ran his hand through his hair, his smile disappearing altogether.
Lita held back her smile, trying to act frustrated instead. “Such a slave driver,” she grumbled.
The students joined in on some quiet laughter. They had grown accustomed to Dovian and Lita’s arguments and strange antics.
I’Lanthe leaned to the side and whispered, “The egg?”
“Large, healthy, and glowing brighter than any other egg before,” Lita excitedly whispered back.
“Then the plan worked!” I’Lanthe could barely contain her excitement.
“Only by a hair,” Lita mumbled with a quiet snort.
Dovian looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. They both giggled and squeezed hands.
“I’ve got a bonus reading I’d like to partake in,” Dovian began. “Martelle, would you lead? Chapter nineteen.”
The young man nodded vigorously. He flicked to the desired page in his armband’s directory and frowned as he read the title, “Mr. Piddles and the Duckling.”
Lita snorted, covering her face.
“Sir, we’re supposed to be covering the war. What does a children’s story about a bunny and a duck have to do with it?” The young man’s face twisted into a look of annoyance.
Dovian’s posture straightened as he held his hands behind his back. “Mr. Piddles and the Duckling is a story about enemies becoming friends. It’s iconic in Sorcēarian culture and serves as an example of the power of friendship in times of hardship. Who you may think is your enemy may very well be your friend. This is important to remember and a useful warfare tactic. Get to know your enemy, and you may see that you both have mutual goals.”
Martelle sighed. “That seems a bit far-fetched, but alright.”
Clearing his throat, the boy began reading, much to Dovian and Lita’s delight. Even I’Lanthe seemed tickled. Martelle surprisingly played along, making outrageous voices for Mr. Piddles and the duckling. Pretty soon the entire class was consumed by laughter. When it came time to switch readers, Martelle insisted he finish the story. Nobody minded and allowed the boy to bask in the limelight.
Dovian sat atop his desk, a smirk plastered on his face as he watched his students joke around. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt it was a much-needed break from their usual overly-proper and somber lectures.
“Oh, Mr. Piddles! You’re my best friend!” Martelle read aloud in a quacking voice, spittle slipping past his lips. He quickly switched to a soft, sweet tone for the rabbit. “We will be best friends forever!”
An overwhelming ‘aw’ sounded from the entire class followed by applause as Martelle gave a series of bows. Dovian laughed, clapping as well. He pushed off his desk, eyeing the clock. Somehow, Martelle had milked three-quarters of the class period with his story. It appeared most of the original lesson plan would have to be held off until the next day.
“Bravo, Martelle. Such gusto, such emotion!” Dovian gestured toward the young man.
The class continued giggling, approving of Martelle’s show.
“I’m sad the story wasn’t longer! In fact, I think—” Dovian’s exuberant joy suddenly diminished, his eyes narrowing.
The class immediately fell into silence, all eyes on their instructor as he took on a defensive stance.
Dovian swiftly reached into his bag and removed the orb of his staff. With one fluid motion, the sphere weaponized, the metallic wings flicking outward as the rod jutted to the floor. He twisted; a bubble of electric light spiraled around him and sprayed outward. The weapon clashed against an invisible force, sparks igniting around him and an invisible form. Dovian’s wings sprouted from his back. His students leaped from their chairs and moved away, slinking back toward the bookshelves. For a moment, Dovian pushed against the force, bolts of lightning dancing around him and the intruder. As the energy built up, his power threatened to blow outward to annihilate everything around him. Dovian glowered, and he quickly pulled away, dispelling his attack altogether. With a boom, the spell dissipated as he slammed the end of his staff against the stone floor to the opposite side of him. His gaze locked on the direction of the figure that slowly manifested out of thin air, darkness spiraling around it. A man with long black hair and robes of Azure stood before him, a devious smirk on his face. The mysterious man’s eyes, a darker shade of blue than Dovian’s, searched over the frightened students in the classroom.
“Am I interrupting your playtime?” The man asked in a deep, sinister voice. He slowly lowered his hands which previously held against Dovian’s attack.
The students remained frozen in fear.
“Euclid. Still having difficulty masking your energy?” Dovian asked.
“How on earth did you get stuck teaching a spineless group such as this?” Euclid ignored Dovian’s statement but stared at his students in disgust.
“Sir Bayerd was needed on the field. I am his replacement by Sir Gaius’ request,” Dovian explained. His words cut short, however, as Euclid moved his sight to him. Dovian didn’t need any more words as he completely understood Euclid’s expression.
“Yes, I know about Sir Bayerd. In fact, that is why I am here.” Euclid remained still, his eyes moving around the room. His gaze locked onto Lita’s. The girl held her breath. “Looks like I’m not the only one who knows.”
Lita held her hands against her chest, feeling uneasy. Dovian rubbed his brow, feeling the tension that he had been fighting all morning rise again.
“What? Lita, what do you know?” one student asked.
Lita shook her head.
Euclid ignored the others, returning his attention to Dovian. “Sir Bayerd met his end at approximately eleven hundred.”
A serious of gasps flooded the room. Lita sank into her chair, covering her mouth. I’Lanthe quickly moved to the girl’s side, trying to comfort her. No doubt she knew of Lita’s strange visions.
“You’re sure?” Dovian asked.
>
Euclid snorted a scoff. “Of course. I was just released from the announcement meeting.”
“Why was I not called?” Dovian asked.
Euclid gave a lazy shrug. For a moment, he matched Dovian’s lax posture. “Class responsibilities, I suppose.”
“What do you mean? Sir Bayerd is…he’s dead?” Martelle spoke up.
Euclid gave a condescending laugh. “Oh, he’s a smart one, isn’t he?” he said sarcastically. Martelle glared.
Dovian held up a hand. “Euclid, please. They are not trained as we are. Nor are they anything like our students.”
Euclid’s frosty stare remained fixed upon Dovian. After a few seconds, the raven-haired man sighed and turned to the class. “My condolences. Your instructor, unfortunately, has passed away while on duty. His words…were…” he looked to Dovian, struggling to maintain his composure, “…were lengthy and strong. He had many a friend here in Ives. It is sad that his words were not enough, and he lost his fight. As with every war, there are casualties. But do know that his death will not be in vain. A squad will be sent out to deal with the situation. In the meantime, Dovian will finish out the semester in his place.”
Dovian stepped forward. “Wait. What do you mean? I’m to remain here?”
Euclid placed a firm hand on Dovian’s shoulder. “That is correct. Once the semester is over, you will be called upon to our squadron to continue the mission. For now, you are to remain here and finish your courses.” Euclid cocked his head. “The education of our youth is far more an important task.” His words were a bit sardonic, but as was the tone Euclid always used.
Dovian disagreed and lowered his voice. “My place is with you and the others. You cannot expect me to remain here when there are dire situations at hand.”
Euclid rolled his eyes. “Dovian, these are your orders. It’s a simple task. Follow through to the end of the semester. You only have a couple of weeks left. Afterward, you can join my side. Until then, I will be wrapped up in espionage, gathering intel on the enemy and a reason why Bayerd lost his life. The humans know the rules, yet they refuse to follow them. Bayerd was a pacifist. He wasn’t meant to die like that.”
“How’d he die?” Martelle spoke up again.
Euclid lifted his gaze, ready to speak, but Dovian cut in. “Martelle, no.”
“I’d like to know,” Martelle said. “As do the others.”
A flurry of nods waved across the room.
Euclid couldn’t help the lifting of the corner of his lips. “His words did him no good. He couldn’t talk the enemies out of shooting him to the point where he couldn’t recover. He couldn’t talk them out of tying him to a post and setting him on fire to burn alive.”
“Euclid!” Dovian snarled.
The dark man looked upon Dovian with disgust. “He asked. They all wanted to know. Now they do.” Euclid stepped forward. “I do not take this man’s death lightly. Prepare yourselves. Learn your words well. But also know that words have their weakness. I’d suggest upon earning your Emerald status you follow through with an addition in either an Azure or Scarlet status. Words can only get you so far, but they will not protect you. Learn self-defense. This world will not wait for you, nor will they stick to our rules. They don’t follow their own, how can we expect them to follow ours?”
Dovian watched the other man with a perturbed expression. Euclid eyed the floor. Casually, he led Dovian to the hallway. Though they spoke quietly, they knew the class was listening in on the conversation.
“Dovian, they must know how the world really is. You know better than I do…the terrors…” he began.
“Yes, Euclid, I am quite aware. The timing is just wrong,” Dovian explained.
Euclid shook his head. “There never is a good time to tell someone that a member of their society has died. We can’t shield them forever. It may have been easy when you and I were young, but not anymore. It’s dangerous out there.”
Dovian nodded slowly.
Euclid moved closer to the man, whispering in his ear. “There’s a meeting as we speak. I must go now. You attend at your soonest. I will not leave you out of this mission, you understand?”
Dovian gave a small smirk. It had been a while since he fought on the field. He didn’t want to admit it, but he yearned for battle.
“You keep me updated.” Dovian’s eyes shimmered.
“Anything and everything will be sent to your database. You finish the semester, and you and I will be with the others immediately following. We’ll be gone a long while, traveling the world. I can’t say much, but we’ve got a big mission ahead of us.”
The way Euclid said it gave Dovian goosebumps. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt excited to hear the news even though another Sorcēarian had lost his life and his students were undoubtedly traumatized.
“Save some action for me,” Dovian whispered with a gruff voice.
Euclid shared the man’s expression. “I’ll try my best, but I can’t make any promises.”
Dovian contained his enthusiasm. Euclid, however, chuckled. He suddenly pulled Dovian into a casual one-armed hug. He whispered once again, “It’s great to see you. Been far too long. Stay sharp. Train those kids well.”
Euclid pulled away, giving a stern nod. Dovian pressed his fist against his chest and bowed. Euclid followed his actions. With a quick twist of his frequency tuner, the Azure man disappeared. Dovian remained in the hall for a moment, feeling Euclid’s energy dissolve. It had indeed been far too long, years since he and the other man had gone on a mission together. Dovian looked forward to it, but he had to hide his anticipation for the sake of his students. Sir Bayerd’s death was nothing to smile about. Dovian wasn’t pleased by the news of the instructor’s death. It was his pleasure to be around his friends once again and not limited to only classrooms. Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself to realize his students’ pain before he returned to the room.
It was suffocating. The area filled with tension, sorrow, anger, and fear. The students didn’t know how to handle death, and once again, Dovian realized the difference between him and Emerald status Sorcēarians. He learned from a very young age how to deal with death, outside of his mother’s. These students, technically all full-grown adults, weren’t trained to handle loss any differently than a standard civilian. They were raised to believe that their words alone could move nations and persuade generals to put an end to war. And though words alone had prevented many conflicts, had brought an end to some tyrannies, they were not powerful enough to stand on their own. Sir Bayerd surely knew of his potential sacrifice by going out on the field. Still, nothing could’ve prepared him for humanity’s carnage. Scarlet and Azure warriors, however, learned early on in their careers the violence and manipulation humanity was capable of. Dovian had seen far too many deaths—comrade and enemy alike. Still, he was able to come home from his missions and feast with the rest of his kind thanks to his training. For some reason, he felt guilty about that. Perhaps if he were out on the field instead of teaching lessons about love, butterflies, and bunny rabbits, he could’ve saved Bayerd’s life.
“He’s really gone?” one student asked, tearing Dovian from his thoughts.
Dovian lifted his gaze. Many still appeared terrified. Some were crying. Martelle glared at him.
“Do you enjoy it?” Martelle asked.
Dovian expected it. He was sure that out of everybody Martelle would’ve caught Euclid and his camaraderie and excitement for battle.
“I do not enjoy death,” Dovian evenly replied.
“You were out in the hall smirking, even laughing.”
Dovian’s face twisted into a look of irritation. “Listen, Martelle. There is no way I would ever enjoy hearing about a fellow Sorcēarian dying in battle. Anything that you would interpret as joy from my response came from the yearning to be at my comrade’s side during the battle. Euclid is a life-long friend. He has saved me many times as I have for him. Am I excited to kill for revenge?”
Dovian halt
ed. In a way he was, but he couldn’t say that. Martelle would never understand.
“Not in the slightest,” he continued. “I fight to save humanity. I fight to preserve our race. Yes, my heart beats faster knowing I will battle once again. It's not necessarily joy that I feel as much as it is recognition, familiarity. This is my duty and what I’ve been trained to do.”
Martelle’s frown softened. The boy was bullheaded. Dovian hoped that someday Martelle would mature and learn to recognize the necessity of all statuses within the race.
“So, you’re leaving us?” I’Lanthe asked.
“No,” Dovian evenly stated. “Not until the end of the semester.”
The room filled with murmurs and whispers. Dovian held up a hand.
“The semester will continue as planned. Afterward, my life will continue as it once had. In the meantime, know that I am here to guide you. As much as I would have previously argued with Euclid about his suggestions to you all, I can’t help but agree with him. Words will only get you so far. Think about arming yourself with a secondary status–Azure for espionage, Scarlet for hand-to-hand combat.”
“You suggest we learn to fight and manipulate?” Martelle asked in a malignant tone.
“Yes, I do. I don’t care what any Emerald would tell you. A secondary will only help you in the future. My words may sting right now, but if Sir Bayerd had done the same, he might still be alive.”
The room fell into a dead silence. Dovian lowered his head. This was not how he planned the day to go. A quiet sniffle alerted him of Lita. Of course, her visions from earlier. She had seen a premonition of her teacher’s death. But why? Why him? Dovian swallowed hard. He’d have to comfort her later.
“Everyone,” Dovian started. The students jostled at his voice. “Let’s end class a bit early today, shall we? We’ll start over tomorrow. I’m very sorry about Sir Bayerd. Know that I’ll do my best in the future to prevent such things from happening. Perhaps reflect on this situation once you are feeling well. As terrible as it may seem, this is the greatest learning experience you will receive as an Emerald status. But don’t dwell on it. Tonight, take it easy. Someday, you’ll have to face your fears. That’s what I’m going to teach you from here on out.”