The Esoteric Design Page 47

  “Damn it,” Dovian cursed through closed teeth. Anymore, the emotions that should have eventually faded into nothing were replaced by physical pain. He groaned; his eyes clenched tightly as he tried to keep his knees from buckling.

  Another memory flashed. Her brown curls were a mess underneath her large helmet, sticking to her face and neck. As hard as he tried, she made no breath; she made no movement, and her eyes held no more light. Her soul was gone, far away and nowhere near him. Dovian whispered to her, his mouth muttering in Legacy, praying for her to return, but nothing happened. He instantly became disconnected from the heavens and from that day forth, even God had nothing to do with him. He couldn’t feel Him, couldn’t hear Him. It was a new separation. Dovian was even more like the cursed humans. I’Lanthe was gone, too. His largest fears were then realized, and there was nothing he could do. He screamed. It was an animalistic sound. That day, all of his light was torn from his world.

  “Lanthe,” Dovian groaned, dropping to his knees.

  The Sorcēarian kneeled in the center of Roma, rain soaking through his robes as he remained lost in his unbearable memories. A low cry sounded from him as he lost his battle. A shaking hand struggled to hold his staff upright. The robed individual hung his head, grimacing in pain, wishing that he could simply forget the past. He wished none of it had happened. He wished he had made a different choice. But there was nothing he could do now. The ordinary life that he once knew, one that was peaceful and happy, was destroyed. He had taken it all for granted, just like everyone else. If he had known what his fate would have been, would he have done things differently? Would he have done more to save her? To save his people?

  Dovian cried, tearing the porcelain mask from his face. The item clanged against the stone ground, shattering into pieces. Nothing, nothing could hide his remorse. Nothing could make him forget the horrors of his past life. It was what he deserved–a life full of misery. This life was his living Hell, separated from everyone and everything he once loved.

  “I’m so sorry, I’Lanthe. I’m so sorry,” Dovian gasped.

  He remained on his knees underneath the pale-orange light. He didn’t care that he was soaked to the bone. Nothing mattered at that moment. All of this–the memories, the pain–it all stemmed from Ivory and her strange amnesia. There was no way Ivory could know about any of his memories unless she, herself, was I’Lanthe.

  ‘It’s impossible, Dovian. I’Lanthe is dead, long dead.’ The thought made him groan. ‘But so was Ivory. She’s supposed to be dead.’

  Dovian’s chest popped as his heart began to pound with hope. What if she really was I’Lanthe? What difference would it make? What would it mean? Dovian still had too many questions and not enough answers, but the thought still gave him a small amount of hope. Maybe he was being given a second chance, an opportunity to make things right again.

  Twelve chimes called out mournfully from the massive clock tower at the edge of the street. Dovian lifted his head, his hood falling. Watching the lightning flash in the sky, the rain washed over his face. Whatever happened, he couldn’t let Ivory out of his sight, especially when Euclid was after her. Remembering this, Dovian stood. He had to find Ivory.

  A raid siren sounded in the distance. Dovian looked in the direction of the noise, frowning. Roma was in a state of alert. They were being attacked. The enemy Dovian was sure wasn’t human.

  A hiss came from the right side. Dovian spun, weapon at the ready. He watched with glaring eyes the alleyway whence the sound came. Waiting, he listened to the clicking of talons on rock. One by one, the sounds increased, surrounding the Sorcēarian in all directions. Dovian walked, slowly dragging the staff behind him as he looked straight ahead, listening and waiting for the first attack.

  He assessed his situation.

  ‘First, one will attack from behind. As it does, a second will try to attack from the opposite direction as I turn. The two on the sides will be sure to move in simultaneously, both attempting to take me down at once–one reaching for my head, the other my legs.’ He processed the thought in a millisecond, spinning with his staff in the air. He cut across the first beast that was leaping for his skull and pushed behind him with his other palm, sending a blue burst of light which knocked the second creature out of the air and onto its backside. As he followed through, he cut along the third that had jumped high from the left side, hit the middle of the returning second, and then met the wing tip of his staff on the side of the final beast’s face that was trying to take out his legs. Dovian ended in a crouching position, waiting for the next move.

  ‘Rooftops,’ he thought.

  As the creatures launched from the buildings, Dovian kept up his effortless fight. Side to side, he dodged the demons’ attacks. He followed through with energy blasts and slices. Within seconds, he had a dozen killed, the corpses surrounding him. He continued relentlessly, listening to the sirens from afar.

  What exactly was it that Euclid was planning on stealing this time around? There were no reactors. What energy source would he need? And what, exactly, was he planning to do with all of his nuclear power? He could’ve easily destroyed the planet numerous times by now. But Euclid did enjoy playing his games.

  A hum sounded a couple meters away. Dovian turned, staff aimed and pointed at the black distortion in the physical realm. A static charge pulsated, and the hole enlarged, bursting outward to reveal Euclid. Dovian charged toward the other Sorcēarian but paused abruptly once he noticed the body Euclid was holding. Ivory lay limply in the man’s arms. Her eyes were closed; she was unconscious.

  “She’s mine now, Dovian,” Euclid said humorously.

  “No!” Dovian shouted, aiming at the man once again.

  “I’ll let my friends deal with you.” Giving a hearty laugh, Euclid pressed against his chest. The portal behind him opened up once again and quickly consumed his body, taking him far away.

  “Dovian!” Aria’s voice interrupted the sudden silence that followed Euclid’s departure.

  A sharp stabbing traveled up Dovian’s spine and spread throughout his whole body. His back arched, and he gurgled; the familiar feeling of warm, thick blood traveled up his throat. He slowly looked down, seeing the massive claws that penetrated his middle. A loud crack from Troy’s weapon echoed in the night, the bullet shattering the Brawler’s skull. It quickly fell to the ground, tugging abruptly from the Sorcēarian’s body. Dovian coughed, the coppery taste filling his mouth. His shaking hands covered his wound as he slowly dropped to the ground in a heavy heap.

  “Dovian! Dovian, are you alright?” Aria screamed, her hands shaking the downed man’s shoulders.

  “He’ll be alright, Aria,” Troy reassured her. He placed a hand on Dovian’s chest, looking into his fading eyes. “I mean, he lived through a bullet to the head, right?”

  Aria placed a hand on Dovian’s cheek, whispering to him. The sound was distorted in the Sorcēarian’s ears, blocked out by his choking noises as his lungs tried to collapse under his shattered ribs. Dovian gurgled, tremors shaking his body as he reached for his staff, nails scratching at the stone. Troy quickly placed the weapon in his hand. Aria watched Dovian; she looked pitiful and helpless as the man struggled in the middle of the street.

  He gave a quiet mumble, and an intense blue light moved from one hand to another, the glow consuming the massive hole in his body. A sickening crunch sounded as his ribs returned to their rightful place. Dovian gave a large gasp and rolled over onto his hands and knees. Heaps of blood stained the ground, falling from his wound as he took deep breaths, mumbling in Legacy. He tried to hasten the process, holding one hand in the front and another in the back, his foreign language hastily traveling past his lips. After a few moments, he dropped into a sitting position and sighed, trying to regain his strength.

  “Are you okay?” Aria asked after a minute.

  “Yeah, fine,” Dovian coughed.

  “That didn’t look very fine,” Troy murmured.

  “It doesn’t feel g
ood, I’ll tell you that much,” he grumbled, letting another blue light trail over his abdomen from his fingertips. “But I’m not dead.”

  “Guess that’s worth something, right?” Troy asked.

  Dovian was silent. Slowly, he climbed to his feet. “I must follow him,” he said with a weak voice.

  “Follow him? How?” Aria asked.

  Dovian quickly looked at the small device strapped to the inside of his scarlet overcoat. He had Mr. Clarke’s gift–the frequency tuner. Giving the item a quick twist of the knob, Dovian’s body disappeared.

  “Wait! Dovian!” Aria shouted.

  She and Troy took a couple of steps toward the center of the square, looking for the missing Sorcēarian. A howling wind rushed by, the rain coming to a halt in a few final sprinkles. After roughly thirty seconds, Dovian reappeared, looking much healthier than he had only moments ago.

  “That was fast,” Troy said.

  “Glad it was for you,” Dovian muttered, catching his breath. “Took me days to catch up with him.”

  “Days?” Aria asked.

  “Time is different on the outside. It isn’t as you perceive it now,” he explained. “I couldn’t do anything, though. I was greatly outnumbered, and Euclid detected me nearby and closed the gate, taking Ivory with him.”

  “Where did he take her?” she questioned.

  Dovian paused. He looked at the two soldiers beside him with heated eyes. “Ives.”

  "Oh, I Really Like This Dress A Lot"

  Chapter 21

  Dovian sat beside the window of his hotel room. He watched through the night the rushing shadows of the human Roman soldiers. Apparently, during the short attack on Roma, Euclid had managed to steal the entire robotic force, leaving the city-state with only a quarter of its militia. Euclid, having his army of demons, two reactor cores, a massive Electrostatic Frequency Tuner, and a full robotic military, was only growing stronger with his arsenal. That wasn’t mentioning what else he had obtained from the other city-states Dovian and the others weren’t capable of traveling to. Even now, the humans were left with nothing, not even the knowledge of his plan. Why didn’t Euclid just blow the planet to pieces? What was the purpose of slowly eating away at the city-states’ resources?

  Dovian closed his eyes, thinking of his journey through the alternate dimension through the use of his frequency tuner. First of all, the tuner itself was based on ancient Sorcēarian technology, which meant Camery had some sort of dealings with Euclid but for what purpose and how? Why create the frequency tuner in the first place, especially when Euclid had one of his own? At least, Dovian assumed Euclid was still armed with his own weaponry of the past.

  Having traveled onto Ives before Euclid shut the portal, taking Ivory and himself into the physical realm where his hidden base of operations was located, Dovian stopped by the old cemetery. He didn’t have to do much digging to find out that Euclid’s body was indeed missing. As he suspected, the other Sorcēarian was alive once again, but the question was how? Was there someone else pulling the strings? The thought was quite an unpleasant one.

  ‘You’ve been given special gifts, why not Euclid?’ Dovian thought wearily to himself.

  Upon further investigation of the ancient burial ground, Dovian had his heart broken once again. As much as he disliked, he traveled to I’Lanthe’s tomb. It was left untouched, the same it had been the day he made it outside of being a tad-bit overgrown with foliage. Still, the purple orchids blossomed. Timidly, he had pushed back the entry into her crypt and nearly doubled over with disappointment to find her sarcophagus locked and still occupied with the silhouette of her corpse. So who was Ivory? What was her connection to I’Lanthe if she wasn’t I’Lanthe herself?

  Once again, he was left with more questions than answers. But one thing was for sure–Euclid had died once; he could surely die again.

  Shortly, Dovian and the others would have their chance to find some answers. Once the morning arrived, they would set out to Ives. It could be the final battle of their lives. It could be the one that saved humanity or the one that destroyed it. Either way, Dovian had a crucial decision to make. In the end, would he make the right choice? Would he be able to make up for his past mistakes? Would he be able to save what he fought so hard to protect, what he sacrificed his entire race to save? After all this time, was that sacrifice even worth it?

  The Sorcēarian frowned. The spiraling questions were creating a static in his brain and left a heavy weight upon his chest. He would just have to wait and see.

  Morning came quickly, the sun rising before Dovian even made it to his bed. The crisp pinkish-orange light crawled over the tallest peak of the skyscrapers, shining across his pale face. Slowly opening his heavy lids, the new day left an unsettling sensation deep within the man’s gut. He sighed heavily, feeling exhausted yet incapable of sleeping a single wink–not like he would have the opportunity now if he even wanted to. Rising from his chair, he grabbed his staff, watching the pulsating colors of the rising sun meld with the grays and reds of the city. He spun, his scarlet cape fluttering behind him as he took quick, large strides to his door.

  Entering the hall, he looked to his left at the sound of two other doors closing. Troy and Aria both looked equally tired in the morning light, each one wearing their full-blown Fountain body armor of shimmering grey. Across their chests were the insignia for Fountains: a blue outline of an eye with splashes of water for eyelashes, a single tear dropping into their high-status symbols of a triple-bladed sword. None of them wanted to waste any more time; enough had been squandered at too great a cost so far in this war, a war that seemed horribly one-sided at the moment.

  Not a single word was uttered. Aria swiped her wrist across the door, watching Dovian. Troy did the same, taking eager strides to meet up with the Sorcēarian. As the three met, they only eyed one another with tired and worn expressions. It seemed morale was dangerously low at the moment. As much as Dovian wanted to try to lift the humans’ spirits, no motivation came to him as he looked at the closed door to Ivory’s room. Strangely, the hotel seemed hollow and empty in the deathly silence. Dovian lowered his eyes to the floor, feeling oddly out of place.

  “We must move,” Aria said, breaking the stillness.

  “By what manner are we traveling?” Dovian asked quietly.

  Troy glanced at the woman beside him. She quickly tugged off one of her forearm guards and dialed into her DNAIS. The hallway was stuffy and hushed.

  “Grayson,” she said after a few seconds. Her tense face finally relaxed. “Let me talk to him.”

  Troy’s shoulders lowered, his stiff position relaxing a bit at the sound of Aria finally making contact with someone on their side. Lately, it seemed it was them against the whole world. Nothing was worse than finding out that the corporation he and Aria devoted most of their lives to serve was suddenly branding them traitors and wanted their heads on a platter for trying to save humanity.

  “James!” Aria shouted. She quickly turned away from the group. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you since we left! Why didn’t you contact me?” she lectured the man. “I don’t care if you were shot fifty times and then fell a thousand meters from a window! You call me! Where are you?”

  Troy smirked. Only Aria could get away with giving the President her motherly tone.

  “No, we’re fine. Well, except for Ivory. She’s gone.” Aria cringed. James’ voice was loud enough that the two men could hear.

  “What do you mean she’s gone?” James Clarke shouted.

  “Euclid took her. He took the robotic army, too. Roma’s virtually defenseless.”

  “This isn’t good, Aria. I need you to stop him, no matter the cost. We’re running out of city-states in this world. I fear, with his arsenal, his final attack will occur soon. I need you to figure out what his plan is, get Ivory away from him, and prevent his next attack. I’m no longer safe at Bio-Tech so I cannot get you any projected locations. I also cannot tell you of my current location,” he
spoke quickly, as if he was afraid of the call being traced.

  “Ives,” she replied.

  “Ives?”

  “He’s in Ives. I know this for a fact. Dovian tracked him down,” Aria said.

  There was hesitation in James’ reply. “Aria, I want you to be careful with the Sorcēarian, got it? They are dangerous people. For all you know, he could be in on this plan as well. I know he’s given no reason to make me believe so; he’s been very faithful to you so far, still…my gut tells me otherwise.”

  Aria eyed Dovian. His bright eyes were cast upon hers. It was as if he was listening in on the conversation.

  “I don’t think it will be a problem, sir, but I will keep myself prepared,” she said quietly.

  “Good. Now, I’m running out of time. A Hawk is already heading your way. It will take you to where you need to go. Keep in contact. We’ll have to keep conversations in short bursts, though. We cannot risk being detected. We have both sides against us, Aria. Resources will not be easy to obtain.”

  “Got it.”

  “Take care.”

  The phone call was terminated, the digital numbers flashing on the screen. With Grayson’s security technologies, no one would have been able to pick up the call. If they did, it still wasn’t enough time to track the location; at least Clarke would have sufficient time and smarts to know when to move to a new position. Things were getting scary. James may have been a fantastic soldier in his prime, but he hadn’t seen the field in many years. He was definitely rusty, and old age was catching up with him. Aria sighed. At least he had Grayson.