The Esoteric Design: Disbanding Hope Page 8

  “Just tidying up,” he said, trying to ease the awkward tension.

  A hushed hiss answered him from behind. He brought his attention to the small pillowed bed on the floor beside the desk.

  “And you are finally awake?” he asked.

  Lying on the puffy mass was a blanketed Hector. Dovian waved Ivory toward him. With the tapping of footsteps, she eagerly approached the man and his pet.

  “Oh, look. He has a teddy bear,” she giggled as she kneeled.

  “I told you they are all spoiled.” Dovian gave a sheepish laugh, lifting up the small knitted toy.

  Ivory eyed the piece. “You made that?”

  Dovian was silent a moment, an uneasy expression on his face. “I did.”

  “You can knit?”

  “I’ve been alone for thousands of years. I can do pretty much anything…except sing. I can’t do that.” He smirked. “And I won’t try.”

  Ivory ran her fingers over Hector’s head. The lizard’s golden eyes quickly closed, his tongue flickering out to taste her. She smelled like orchids and rain.

  “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” she asked, standing.

  Dovian remained low on the floor, mending a broken seam in the doll caused by Hector’s claws.

  “And you have a lot of books,” she said. “I imagine you’ve read them all.”

  “Over and over again.”

  “Do you have any memorized?” She fingered the bindings, slowly reading the titles.

  “The Bible and the Secondary Judgment of God,” he said with amusement. “But, we were all required to memorize His words.”

  “Besides those,” Ivory said.

  The room was silent for a few minutes. Ivory didn’t press the man but continued looking. Gusting winds would roll by, the calm rumble of thunder vibrating the windows. Every so often she would pull a book from its place, eye the back, and then return it.

  “What is happiness?” Dovian started.

  Ivory glanced at him, unsure of what to say. She noticed he wasn’t looking at her, put staring at the furthest wall as if deep in thought.

  “Is it a laugh? Is it a smile? Or a warm hug on a cold winter’s day?” He paused. “Is it a tear? Is it a cry? Or a word of comfort in a dark time?”

  Ivory leaned on the balcony, watching him.

  He continued, “What is love? Is it a kiss? Is it a touch? Or is it a breathless scene of beauty? Is it a pain? Is it a want? Or an act of the ultimate sacrifice?” He lowered his head, his fingers trailing through the dust on the floor.

  Ivory interjected with her voice in a lower tone. “And what are happiness and love if we do not experience pain and sadness?”

  Dovian lifted his head. His face held a look of shock.

  She continued, her eyes sparkling in the darkness. “Because one without the other cannot exist. Would love be any more precious or rare if everyone felt it and everyone gave it? Would sadness be any more painful if the love did not exist in the first place? What is it that makes us feel things the way we do? Is it a kiss? Is it a touch? Or is it a breathless scene of beauty?”

  “Is it a pain? Is it a want? Or an act of the ultimate sacrifice?” Dovian returned, gaping at Ivory in awe.

  Her eyes brightened as she held a coy smile upon her face, and she spoke, “In the end, it’s a delicate balance.”

  He stood, his heart pounding in his chest. Quietly, he continued, “In the end, it’s your choice and your way that decides.”

  The two stared at one another. Dovian became a statue, his eyes like gems glistening in the storm, his hair shimmering in a dull halo of light. He didn’t dare move.

  Ivory lowered her head and gave a small laugh. “Tadhg Rioradahn...my favorite writer,” she said. “You memorized his work?”

  “Every word of every page,” he replied, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

  Dovian found it hard to breathe, his chest rising and falling at irregular intervals. He had heard her voice many times before from Ivory, but this time she was showing awareness. She was looking at him with blazing blue eyes. The smile on her face was even the same as I’Lanthe would wear it. Her whole posture was different. Standing proud and tall, she pressed her shoulders back and lifted her chin ever-so-slightly, giving her the regal presence those of high status once had.

  ‘Move. Move, damn it, before she is gone again,’ his mind instructed.

  Strutting forward, Dovian was next to her in a few strides, his hands cupping her face.

  “I’Lanthe,” he stuttered her name, his voice showing uncertainty.

  “Dovian,” she replied frankly with her calm voice coated in a Legacy accent. She appeared amused despite the distress the other’s countenance held.

  Dovian allowed the woman to tug him down, her arms wrapping around his neck as she met him with a firm kiss. He quickly submitted. With his large hands clasping around her lower back, he held her as close as possible against his body. They remained that way, embracing one another. Dovian’s brow furrowed as the thought of her leaving again plagued his mind. He didn’t want to let her go, risk losing her again. Why couldn’t she stay this way? Why at any possible moment would she fade away, returning back into the quiet, timid Ivory? It was a selfish thought, one that he knew was cruel, but after so long, why couldn’t he be granted one moment of happiness?

  She pulled away, and Dovian’s breath came to a halt.

  “You look so sad,” she whispered. Her fingers trailed over the tattoo on his cheekbone.

  Dovian closed his eyes, laying his forehead against hers, pleased to know she was still with him at that moment. “One thing is for sure…” he whispered. “Before, I thought I knew of pain and sadness, love and happiness…until I lost it all.”

  “Dovian…” I’Lanthe’s voice flowed from Ivory’s lips. She looked at the man with pity.

  “And now that I’ve felt the worst there was, I am in love now more than I ever thought possible.” He kissed her again. “And I’m not letting you go. I’m never letting anything happen to you ever again.”

  Ivory lowered her hands, running her fingertips down his chest. “What happened in the past is not your fault.”

  Dovian shook his head. “I killed them, I’Lanthe. I killed them all.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she repeated.

  “Whose is it, then?” he growled. “If I wasn’t locked up in that damn cell. If I could have broken loose just one minute sooner.” His lower lip quaked as he struggled to keep his composure.

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Because I hesitated!”

  Ivory shook her head and rested a hand on his cheek, not liking the troubled look on his face. She tried to speak, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “And because I hesitated, you died. Everyone. Karter, Orin, Quentin…and Lita!” He clenched his jaw. Now was not a good time to have a breakdown, but this was the first time in fifteen thousand years that he was able to talk to anyone who would know and understand the severity of his loss.

  “Oh, Lita…” she whispered. “Dovian, you can’t keep blaming yourself.”

  “No, no I can. Not only that, but I’m responsible for everyone else’s death. I killed them. I killed them all! There were no survivors. I’m the only one.” He caught his breath, becoming eerily calm. “And none of that has hurt me more than finding out that, after all of this time, you were damned.”

  Ivory looked down, avoiding his eye contact.

  “Why were you in Hell? Was everyone else? Lita, too?!” He grabbed her shoulders.

  “No, not Lita! She’s safe and at peace. Not everyone was damned. There are some, but not all.”

  “Karter?” he stammered.

  “No.”

  Dovian sighed with some relief.

  “Most are those who teamed up with Euclid,” she explained.

  Dovian caught her gaze, lifting her chin. “But that does not explain why you were there, why you are in this body right now.”

  She remained silent
.

  “I’Lanthe!”

  “I, I can’t tell you.” She tore her eyes away.

  He gawked at her, his look turning severe. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “No. Please, Dovian, I can’t remember. Things are still hazy. I’m stuck between two lives right now; it’s hard to tell what happened.”

  “You’re lying to me,” he grumbled.

  “I don’t have enough time to explain.” She winced then, her hand delicately touching the side of her head.

  “No, don’t leave me.” Dovian became frantic.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be here by your side. But I may not always be aware.”

  “Is there something I can do? Something we can do?” he asked.

  Her expression softened, her eyes holding sadness. “Dovian, I cannot force Ivory out of her own body.”

  “But is it even her inside?” he asked in a hushed voice.

  “What difference does it make? Didn’t you just ask her that?”

  “You can hear our conversations?”

  She wrinkled her brow. “It’s foggy. Sometimes it’s as if I’m watching the two of you, but I can do nothing. Other times, it’s like I’m asleep, dreaming, or I’m in darkness and the voices or ideas keep pulling in and out.” She smiled. “But I can feel what she feels, Dovian.”

  The man stared past her head, not wanting to make eye contact. “What does she feel?” he asked nervously.

  Her grin widened. “She is desperately in love with you, Dovian.”

  He sighed. “But she said those were your feelings.”

  “She still feels them herself, does she not? Love is love. I could tell a stranger all kinds of stories about you, and I wouldn’t be surprised one bit if they fell in love with you without even having the pleasure of meeting you.”

  Dovian lowered his head. “You hold me at far too high a regard.”

  “And your humbleness is what makes you so wonderful. Stay true to yourself Dovian. Don’t let this war bring you down. It never ended with us. It’s been going on this entire time. But it’ll be coming to a close soon, and I need you to do what you think is right.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?” he asked.

  She groaned again, her hand holding the side of her head.

  “I’Lanthe!” he shouted, holding her up against her weakening knees.

  “Love her, Dovian. She deserves it. Show her love just as you showed it to me,” she said quietly.

  “But she isn’t you,” he muttered.

  “You already have feelings for her; you just don’t know it yet.”

  “Don’t be stubborn with me,” he lectured.

  “The same to you….” She gasped for air, her body becoming heavy. “Show her happiness…in this small world she’s lived in; don’t let the darkness consume her. Do it for me.”

  Fully understanding I’Lanthe’s persistence, Dovian sighed in defeat. “I’ll try,” he said after a moment.

  “That’s what I like to hear.” She gave him a weak smile before closing her eyes, letting herself fall into unconsciousness.

  Dovian kneeled. He numbly held Ivory’s body in his arms as he waited for her to awaken again. In a flash of light, the whole city was trembling in an explosive thunder, the rain gushing over the side rails of the study’s balcony. Ivory jumped, her eyes opening wide. A loud shout sounded from her as the blast frightened her out of her sleep.

  “What happened?!” she gasped.

  Dovian didn’t say anything. He only stared at the woman in his arms with an unreadable expression. Ivory tensed, feeling a dark energy exude from the Sorcēarian.

  “She was here, wasn’t she?” she shyly asked.

  He turned his face away, frowning.

  “I, I’m sorry, Dovian. I’m sorry if I interrupted your time together. If I could, I would just let her have my body so the two of you can be together,” she said quietly, tears stinging her eyes.

  Seeing her grief, Dovian mentally slapped himself for being so self-centered. He quickly grabbed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles.

  “I don’t want that from you,” he said in a hushed tone. “Don’t ever think you are any less worthy than anyone else, understand?”

  She quickly nodded.

  “Are you tired?” he asked, worried about her mental fatigue.

  “I’m exhausted,” she answered quickly.

  “Come, let’s get you to bed.”

  He picked her up with ease and stepped onto the railing, his wingspan widening as he slipped over the ledge. Dovian returned Ivory to I’Lanthe’s room. As he flapped inside, Petey didn’t move a muscle. The Sorcēarian’s cold eyes dropped to the lizard.

  “Some guard dog you are,” he said dryly.

  Ivory quickly slipped from Dovian’s arms. She remained by his side, staring at his face, looking for any indication of what he was thinking or feeling at that moment. He didn’t acknowledge her but gaped at the tiles on the stone floor.

  “Well, I suppose I should let you have some time alone,” he muttered. Glancing at the wet floor and their soaked clothing, he unconsciously shivered. “There’s a shower….”

  “Around the corner,” Ivory pointed to a corner of the room near the bed.

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll gather something for you to change into.”

  Ivory looked down at herself and noticed how worn and discolored her once beautiful gown was. She twisted her feet, her boots squeaking against the wet marble. The gossamer dress was burnt and torn, cutting off below her knees rather than the floor as it once had. The bottom and a few splatters across her torso were dark with Dovian’s blood.

  “That would be kind of nice,” she said, removing the one glove that covered her arm.

  Dovian gave a slight nod and turned toward the back of the room. Ivory watched him momentarily before rounding the corner into the small bathroom. She noticed how sour the man was feeling and couldn’t help but feel responsible for it. Approaching a mirror on the wall, Ivory gaped at her reflection. Her makeup was smudged, creating dark circles around her eyes. Her usually fluffy, curly hair was now a matted mess. Dirt and soot dotted her hands, arms, and neck. To say the least, she looked horrible.

  “I look like death,” she whispered, leaning closer to the mirror, peering into her irises.

  ‘We both look like death,’ a thought interjected in the woman’s mind.

  Pulling away from the mirror, Ivory gasped aloud. The woman in the mirror was not herself, but another. The reflection looked at Ivory with a kind expression on her face. Her eyes were a glowing violet. Her hair, too, was wet and matted. The long loose curls of brunette stuck to the sides of her neck. An ornate hair clip held up the rest of her curls on the back of her head. Despite looking a little worn from the weather, she looked breathtakingly beautiful.

  “Everything alright?” Dovian’s voice called out.

  Ivory turned her head to look toward the entrance of the bathroom and then back to the mirror where she saw only herself in the reflection.

  “F, fine,” she stammered.

  “Do you need any help?” he asked.

  “What? With what?” she rambled.

  “…With anything?”

  Ivory stared at the mirror. “Uh, no. No, I’m fine; thank you.”

  “I will leave these clothes for you on the bed,” he stated quietly.

  Ivory caught her breath, looking down at herself and her reflection again. Hearing Dovian’s soft footsteps trail further away, she ran to the entryway of the bedroom.

  “Dovian!” she called out.

  He paused, his hand resting against a stone pillar as he watched the rain.

  “Good night,” she spat out.

  The man looked over his shoulder at her and fed her a gentle smile. “Good night.”

  With a whoosh, his wings spread, and the man departed. Ivory remained in the doorway, watching the fountain’s water wave in the storm. Dropping her sight to her bed, she noticed the robes of b
lack and gold and an overcoat much like Dovian’s that was a stunning shade of purple with golden details lining the sleeves. In addition, on the pillow was a very familiar headpiece. She recognized the ornate crown from the reflection in the mirror. These were I’Lanthe’s clothes.

  Ivory swallowed thickly. She had a choice to make. It was time she had decided if she was going to continue being the naïve, helpless Ivory or become the strong woman her memories and feelings once belonged to–the woman that Dovian needed.

  "What Is Happiness?"

  Chapter 5

  Leaves of green and gold clattered against the dirt trail as the trees swayed gently in the breeze. Aria tightened the laces of her neon-colored running shoes, looking up at the flickering sunlight that slipped past the full branches overhead. Taking a deep breath, she stretched her arms over her head. Singing sparrows flitted from tree to tree, their bitty onyx eyes looking down curiously at the woman. The little chubby birds developed a pattern as they traveled–hopping, staring, and giving a little tweet before sputtering away. A squirrel or two would dash through the branches. A butterfly lazily fluttered down the path. Rolling her ankle, the woman flexed the muscles of her calf, testing its strength and mobility. Deciding it was as good as ever, she pushed forward to jog through the track. The swishing trees and musical birds were relaxing but not motivating as her feet pounded against the ground.

  “Music,” she called out between breaths.

  “Playlist?” a small voice echoed in her mind.

  “Workout,” she replied, eyes straight ahead on the woodsy landscape.

  A sudden pulsating beat drummed in her mind as a series of electrical instruments thumped in time with her running pace. She smiled. Now she was motivated to move.

  “Much better,” she panted.

  Following the dips and small inclines to the path, Aria kept a decent pace. It had been weeks since she was able to go for a run or workout. Though her recent missions didn’t leave her sedentary by any means, it was nice to get some exercise that wasn’t life threatening. And after being bedridden for four days, she was desperate for some time alone and some movement in her legs.

  Taking another deep breath, she closed her eyes. She listened to the music, her imagination taking her to other places, other times, and other scenarios. Aria was a woman whose brain never stopped, not even for a minute. To only listen to music and pretend to be somewhere else was a type of vacation. It was more encouraging than sitting in the present dwelling on the unavoidable. She remained that way, running through the trees as if she had memorized the trail’s twists and turns. After a few minutes, she couldn’t shrug the strange feeling that she was being watched. Given a chill down her spine, her green eyes popped open, and she gave a shout as she was face-to-face with another person.