The Esoteric Design: Civilization Lost Read online

  The peaceful lifestyle, however, was constantly at risk. It was up to Sorcēarians like Dovian and Euclid to fight for the side that better benefitted humanity and to keep their own country safe from war. Ives had never been directly attacked before, but their people had become targeted on the outside. Emerald statuses built churches throughout the nations to provide safe places of worship. Scarlets were sometimes placed at similar locations for safety precautions. If not tied down by a particular church, Emeralds traveled the Earth as missionaries, spreading the word of God and helping small villages and nations with food, water, and refuge. If not doing missionary work, then Emeralds preserved art, history, and literature among all cultures and nations.

  Violet statuses often kept to Ives. They mastered all the arts, physically and mentally. They trained their entire lives to become Gold. Violets acted as war generals, oversaw the civil projects throughout Ives and those managed across the world. They provided counsel for the civilians and trained under Gold Elders to eventually help with matters concerning the World Council.

  As the Elder Gaius continued his service, one that was told many a time, Dovian looked over the crowd. He was excellent at feeling the presence of his family and friends. One aura was missing, and it troubled him. Dovian straightened his robes as he stood, whispering an apology to those beside him. His father eyed him curiously to which Dovian gave a short nod and awkward smile. His grandfather didn’t pay much mind to the boy. Lita busied herself with highlighting scripture in her Bible; she ignored Dovian’s palm pressing against the top of her head as he passed by.

  “Excuse me,” Dovian whispered, slipping from his row. He met eyes with Sir Gaius, who didn’t falter once in his speech. No doubt the Elder knew of Dovian’s intentions. There was a slight change in his expression that not many would catch–a subtle nod in Dovian’s direction before looking the opposite way toward the congregation.

  Dovian slid through a side door as not to disturb the mass. The soft tinkling of rain pelted against the stained glass in the hallway. It smelled of wet stone and incense. It soothed him. Casually, he made his way to the end of the stretching hall and exited out another side door to the outside. Dovian looked to the heavy clouds above. It was the rainy season, and the precipitation had been going nearly nonstop for days.

  Walking in the rain, he summoned a small shield of light over his head to protect him from getting wet. He made his way across the stone pathway toward a miniature cathedral that was often meant for private prayer. As he neared, he sensed the presence he was searching for. Dovian eased a bit, feeling relieved that for as strong as the energy was, his friend wasn’t trying to hide from anybody. Dovian placed his hand against the wooden door. Condensation trickled down the gold paneling and colorful gems that decorated the surface. He tried to be quiet, as not to disturb the peace, but the door gave a low groan as he opened it.

  “And you call yourself Scarlet,” Euclid murmured, his deep voice giving a short echo within the confines of the small building.

  Dovian exhaled a short laugh. He closed the door behind him and made his way to the singular pew. Euclid sat lazily with his feet propped up on a kneeling stool and his elbow on the arm of the seat, his head resting in his hand. He only gave a momentary glance as Dovian sat beside him then his eyes fled to a statue of the Lord that stood before them.

  “I noticed you were missing from today’s congregation,” Dovian softly spoke. His sight fled to the flowers lining the floor and spires on either side of the statue. A round stained glass window inlaid above spread a colored beam of light across them.

  “I…felt like taking part in prayer alone today,” Euclid mumbled. He looked tired and a bit agitated.

  “Would you like for me to leave?” Dovian asked.

  Euclid chuckled; it was a rich, hollow sound. “No. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

  Dovian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Everyone misses now and then, but I can’t help but notice it’s been a few weeks since you’ve attended.”

  Euclid remained silent.

  “Anything you need to tell me?” Dovian asked.

  He looked sideways at Euclid, and his body ran cold. Were tears gathering at the corner of his eyes?

  Euclid sighed. The man was the brooding type, even more so than Dovian. It was why they were good friends. The two of them could sit in the same room for hours and be comfortable in silence, and they understood each other’s moods without many words. But even so, Euclid seemed far more depressed than usual. Dovian thought about the date. Usually, Euclid got reclusive around the anniversary of his mother’s death. But that date was not this day.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Dovian,” the raven-haired man whispered.

  Dovian turned a little to face him. “We’ve been friends nearly our entire lives. We’ve fought by each other’s side and saved one another many a time. Whatever is going on with you, it concerns me. You can tell me anything. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

  Typically, conversations like this didn’t sit well with Euclid, but he seemed to appreciate it this time around. Euclid kept his glassy eyes upon the statue.

  “There’s no way to convey or express the way I feel. All I know is that it doesn’t feel right. I know I shouldn’t be having these…thoughts, but I simply can’t help it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Dovian, but I fear myself at times,” Euclid murmured.

  “What do you mean? How do you fear yourself?”

  “I’ve done things…said things…thought things that aren’t right.” Euclid straightened a little. “Things that I’m sure cannot be forgiven.”

  Dovian gave Euclid a gentle smile. The Azure man swallowed thickly. At that moment, Dovian greatly resembled Sir Gaius. Euclid had been frustrated with Dovian’s great-grandfather as of late. Despite his feelings, he could not tell Dovian what he thought of the Elders.

  “Everyone can be forgiven, Euclid,” Dovian started.

  Euclid held up a hand, scoffing. “Dovian, save the Sunday School preach.”

  “I’m unsure as to what you are speaking of, but you can certainly confide in me.” Dovian’s posture slumped a little; his sight fell onto the Lord’s painted brass face.

  “Dovian, are you strong enough?” Euclid asked.

  The Scarlet man looked to his friend, a perplexed expression covering his features. “Strong enough? For battle, you mean?”

  Euclid grunted in confirmation.

  “Uh, I’m not sure. What kind of battle are you talking about? I’d like to think I’m more than capable of holding my own, but we both know I’ve slipped up a few times.” Dovian scratched his head, trying to understand Euclid’s words.

  “Imagine, a world burning with warfare. Envision everyone is against one another–all the races, friends, and family. Would you be strong enough for a battle like that?” Euclid’s sight remained obsessively fixated on the effigy.

  Dovian sighed. “I…I’m unsure. Are you speculating, or is there something going on that I’m unaware of? Are we at war?”

  Euclid gave a condescending smile and a short laugh, but he wasn’t necessarily directing it toward Dovian. “No, not currently, Dovian. But we will be. I know we will. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “You’re speaking of humans against Sorcēarians.”

  “I’m speaking of humans against Sorcēarians. Sorcēarians against Sorcēarians and humans. All of us against one another, in one giant battle.”

  Dovian cocked his head to the side. “Why would Sorcēarians be against each other? We’ve never had conflict within ourselves.”

  “And why is that?” Euclid asked.

  “Because we are not made that way,” Dovian replied.

  Euclid sat up, planting his feet on the floor and cupping his hands in his lap. “We were made to obey orders.”

  “We were made to lead a life of good moral standing, to show love and forgiveness for mankind. We’re supposed to guide them into the light and away f
rom darkness, to remind them of what is waiting for them in the Kingdom,” Dovian blandly stated. It was the same speech he had given to many humans over and over again. Euclid knew all this. “We originally came to Earth at Sir Gaius’ request. He believed the humans should be given a second chance. He volunteered, just as you and I did, to come to Earth to lead by example. We may not remember our days from before we were born here, but we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t think we could handle it. It’s easy to see the sinful nature of others while tucked away in paradise, but to live on Earth as the humans; we understand their hardships and temptations. We can better understand how they think and operate; better understand what forgiveness and love are.”

  “They call us Fallen. They associate us with demons,” Euclid sputtered.

  “Those who call us that are simply misled. True, we fell, but not in the way the original Fallen had. It was by choice, by sacrifice, for the sake of humanity.”

  “And why would the Lord allow that?” Euclid asked.

  “Perhaps He wants to teach us–those that were deemed perfect but remained incredibly flawed–what it is to be human.” Dovian paused a moment. “Perhaps He wanted to learn more about His creations in general–us and humanity. We’re not perfect, Euclid. You and I were born on this Earth just as they were. You and I were born into sin. We’ve already been tainted.”

  Euclid’s expression turned sour. “They know of our origins, of our powers, yet they twist the truth and give us derogatory titles. We have power, Dovian. Skills that their simple minds cannot comprehend, yet they call us Fallen, demons, damned, sorcerers! They disrespect us, they kill us, and we stand idly by, allowing them to mock everything we stand for, have sacrificed.”

  “Which is precisely what we’re meant to do. We have a higher understanding, Euclid. We know the truth. We have a direct link to the Heavens at all times. Our prayers and thoughts reach Him. Sure, they are nothing compare to Sir Gaius’ connection, but we feel Him all the same. Just because we have been tempted by sin and have free will doesn’t mean we can fall into the same traps as humanity. We have no excuse; we know the truth. We’re stronger and better than that. We must live by example for them. We give them the tools, the knowledge, and as much understanding as we can. If they still disregard us….”

  Dovian noticed Euclid’s face had fallen into an expression of pain, his teeth grinding.

  “Not I, Dovian. I’ve lost it. I’ve lost my link,” Euclid groaned.

  “You…you’ve lost your link? To the Heaven Song?” Dovian asked. The idea was preposterous.

  Euclid gave a shudder, tears threatening his eyes again. He fought hard to remain composure. His shimmering gaze stared into the painted ones of the sculpture before him.

  “I’ve not heard His song in a long time.”

  Dovian shook his head. “That’s not possible, Euclid. You’re a Sorcēarian. You cannot lose your link.”

  Euclid’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “I…I’m nearly positive of this, Dovian. I’ve come here for weeks. The words are not there. I’ve prayed and begged, and I feel absolutely nothing, hear nothing. I don’t feel His light. I feel as if I’m suffocating, choking on darkness. Everywhere I look I see nothing but darkness.” He gave a strained groan. “Even us. Our people. I see a flaw within us, Dovian. We’re failing. We’re going to fail. Humanity is doomed. It was doomed before we came. We’re on nothing more than a fool’s errand.”

  Dovian placed his hand on Euclid’s shoulder. The Azure man relaxed beneath his touch, the opposite of his usual response to physical contact.

  “I know you, Euclid. I know you won’t like the idea, but you need to speak with the council about this. You need to speak with Sir Gaius,” Dovian suggested.

  Euclid shook his head in disagreement.

  “Does your father know of this?”

  “You’re the only one I’ve spoken to,” Euclid sighed.

  “How long has this gone on?” Dovian watched him carefully.

  He shrugged. “It’s been growing softer and softer over the years. I first noticed it while we were at war last. Since then, it’s grown so quiet the song has only come to me periodically. Now, it’s been months.”

  “Are you losing faith, Euclid?” Dovian asked.

  Euclid looked at him, appalled, but he quickly downcast his eyes. “Dovian…promise me something.”

  “Sure,” Dovian replied. He kept his hand on the man’s shoulder.

  “Promise me, that no matter what happens, you’ll never lose faith in me. I may do some stupid things, but know that isn’t the path I want.” Euclid’s hands shook as he grabbed the corners of his blue overcoat. “And if I ever do something incredibly foolish…I want you to…take responsibility for me.”

  “Take responsibility?” Dovian asked.

  “End me.”

  Dovian gave a quick gasp and jumped from his seat. “End, end you?!” He kneeled before Euclid and placed his hands on his shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

  Euclid’s eyes paled, void of light. “If I ever do something that would jeopardize humanity, us, the world…I want you to end me.”

  “Why would you do something like that, Euclid? What have you done?” Dovian’s wide eyes searched Euclid’s body for an answer. He couldn’t feel anything abnormal from his aura. The Heaven Song didn’t reveal anything to him.

  Euclid lightly placed his hand atop Dovian’s, patting it. “I’ve not done anything. Not yet.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I’m not sure. I just have a feeling. I feel like the darkness is taking me.”

  “You doubt yourself too much, Euclid. You’re stronger than that.” Dovian sat back down beside the man but remained close.

  Euclid gave a low chuckle as he slouched in the pew, his sight aimed at the decorated window above. “Nevermind, you have too much faith in me, Dovian.”

  “You’re depressed. We’ll get you past this. How about we set up an appointment to meet with Sir Gaius? I can go with you if you want.”

  “And what’s the wait time, twenty years?” Euclid gave a half-hearted laugh and immediately frowned. “I’ll go alone.”

  “Fair enough, but I don’t want you to ignore this problem. I’ve never heard of this happening before.” Dovian was stumped. What could Euclid have possibly done to lose his connection to the Heavens? It was the only thing that comforted Dovian when he thought of his mother. It was a reminder of where she was. He wasn’t an angel anymore, so he couldn’t quite interpret the noise or feelings, but it was comforting, so that meant it was good news. To lose that would leave such an empty feeling.

  Euclid sighed and leaned against Dovian. It was an incredibly strange gesture. Sorcēarians tended to share contact with one another on a regular basis. However, Euclid was never much of a touchy-feely person. He kept his distance, rarely spoke kind words, and generally seemed grumpy. As he sat in silence within the cramped room, his shoulder against Dovian’s, he appeared nearly childish. Euclid was hurting, and Dovian was going to help him figure out what was happening. He owed it to his friend.

  They sat in silence for a long while. Eventually, the choir within the neighboring church started singing, their songs a quiet murmur from where the two men sat. Euclid made no response to the sound but kept his eyes locked forward and his mouth tightly shut. As the bells tolled for the end of mass, he stirred. Dovian concentrated on prayer the entire time; he only assumed Euclid was doing the same. A sudden soft knock at the door caused them to quickly part. Euclid’s eyes blazed with light; his typical angry demeanor had returned.

  “Seems another needs this facility. I best be on my way.” Euclid stood. He cleared his throat and grabbed his tuner. “We’ll catch up another time, Dovian.”

  Dovian nodded, not much knowing what to say about the confusing interaction they just had. “Certainly.”

  The word barely left Dovian’s lips before Euclid disappeared. Another soft knock sounded, and Dovian turned his attention to the
entrance.

  “You may enter.” He rose, straightening his robes. A sudden rush of familiar energy washed over him, and he relaxed.

  “I was wondering where you had run off to,” Lita said as she poked her head inside. She looked around, her lower lip sticking out. “You’re alone? I thought I felt….”

  “Euclid,” Dovian mumbled. “He just left.”

  “Euclid?!” Orin stuck his head in above Lita’s. She looked up at him with a wry smile. “Bet ya didn’t see that one coming,” he laughed.

  “I thought you were in here with I’Lanthe,” Lita snickered.

  Dovian rolled his eyes. “For what purpose? Seriously, Lita! It’s a place of worship.” He shuddered, feeling bothered by the girl’s crude suggestion of the idea.

  He moved toward them. The rain had let up somewhat, but he cast a shield above his head anyway. Orin put his arm around Lita, casting a shield over both of them. Together, they walked across the grounds toward the entrance of Dovian’s side of the enormous home. Usually, Dovian and Lita, and often Orin, would have lunch together after church. It was a great way to unwind, but Dovian couldn’t get Euclid off his mind. The Azure man always hid any weakness. The only time he revealed any feelings were with hateful statements toward someone or something. Euclid was generally negative, but his sudden cryptic behavior was incredibly worrisome.

  “Have you two noticed anything strange about Euclid lately?” Dovian asked.

  “I’ve noticed he’s not been to worship in a while,” Lita said.