The Esoteric Design: Civilization Lost Page 9

Dovian chuckled and took his leave, licking a trace of syrup from his thumb.

  He had barely made it out of the home before another voice called out his name. Dovian paused, looking behind. Fardon approached him, his gaudy robes and jewelry clanging as he walked. His sandstone eyes remained fixed upon him in a still state. Humans often were unsettled by Fardon’s decorated stature, chiseled face, and abnormal eyes, but Dovian was comforted by the man’s abnormal gaze as it reminded him of Orin. Fardon gave the silver-haired man a kind smile in greeting.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” Fardon stated.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t hard to find me.” Dovian gestured toward the man’s eyes.

  Fardon’s smile widened. “With you, I never have to work my sight. I always know just where to find you, homebody.” Fardon’s face hardened as he peered out the window toward the morning sun. “I know you’ve got class, so I’ll make haste of my news.”

  “Please tell me it’s something good,” Dovian mumbled, suddenly dreading this meeting.

  “Most likely not considered good by your definition. We need a substitute for one of the literature courses.”

  Dovian winced. “Definitely not my forte, sir.”

  Guiding Dovian through the door, Fardon continued his conversation as they journeyed toward the training compound.

  “I’m quite aware this isn’t your…forte.”

  “Then why am I, of all people, considered a good substitute?”

  “Many of the others have conflicting schedules. Sure, there are a few who could do it, but the Elder Gaius made the request for you to hold the position,” Fardon explained.

  Dovian’s expression further fell. “Is…that not odd?”

  “I see you’re not well adverse in literature and poetry,” Fardon said as he scanned Dovian with his swirling eyes. Dovian nervously scratched his head. “Perhaps he wants you to use this opportunity as a form of practice.”

  Dovian huffed. “But I am Scarlet; I’m not expected to memorize literature and poetry.”

  Fardon placed a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, but if you ever hope to become an Elder someday, you will need to have this knowledge.”

  Dovian’s eyes widened. Become an Elder? The idea had never occurred to him before. Sure, those of the Gaius lineage were expected to become Elders and eventually Gold status, but it was something never discussed with him. In fact, Dovian had no desire to be anything more than a warrior. Did he want all the responsibility that came with being an Elder? It did seem a bit troublesome. He wanted to argue, struggling to keep his mouth shut for quite a while before he hesitantly nodded.

  With an unsure voice, Dovian spoke, “Though that would be many lifetimes away, I suppose I cannot deny my great-grandfather’s request. I will…with great reluctance, cover the course.” He ran his hand through his hair. “For how long?”

  Fardon chuckled. “Until further notice.”

  Dovian frowned and lowered his head.

  “Not only is the instructor a key representative to the pressing issues involving the foreign refugees, but he is also advanced in a rare form of spell work. His expertise is needed on the battlefield,” Fardon further explained.

  “Why do I not like the sound of that?” Dovian muttered. Rolling his shoulders, he nodded again. “Okay. When do I start?”

  Fardon clapped his hands together and smiled. “Tomorrow, immediately following your genetics class.”

  Dovian gave a small snort. He usually took a nap after his genetics class. This must have been part of his father’s doing to prevent him from being so lazy. The young man quickly corrected his disgruntled expression and feigned a smile.

  “Your syllabus has already been delivered to your room. You can also find a copy of it in your database.” Fardon pointed to Dovian’s armband. Patting the young man on the shoulder, he gave him a sorrowful look. “Good luck, boy. My prayers are with you.”

  Dovian pouted as Fardon left him through the use of his frequency tuner. At least the Elder had a sense of humor, but it still didn’t make Dovian feel any better.

  “Prayers? What trouble has been placed upon me?” Dovian whined.

  Holding a class for novice warriors and teaching genetics while maintaining his physical training was worrying enough. Now he had to learn about fanciful poetry and read every night. Dovian wrinkled his nose. On top of it all, his class was most likely full of females. And despite his age, Dovian was not adept in the dealings of women. At least, all his interactions ended up with him fumbling over words and looking like a fool. Perhaps this was his great-grandfather’s way of training him for better courting of females. Now that sounded like a feasible idea.

  “What have I done to deserve this?” he whimpered.

  "Piggyback Ride”

  Chapter 5

  The hallways seemed to stretch forever, the stained glass sparkling on either side. A quiet chime tinkled in the distance followed by a soft chorus from one of the classrooms. Further down the hall came the sound of trumpets and flutes. From the string instruments followed a melodic hum. A speckle of various colors decorated a fresco on the walls. It was a form of art not commonly found in Sorcēarian society. Twirling high above was a strange kinetic sculpture that shifted and morphed into various forms. One moment it had the appearance of a bird; after shifting it took the form of a gazelle in mid-bound. Dovian narrowed his eyes, taking in the flamboyant sights, the beautiful music. Somewhere, he heard giggling.

  Sorcēarians weren’t by any means an unhappy race, in fact, they were quite the opposite, but it was uncommon for Dovian to hear such sounds from the classrooms he usually occupied. The training grounds were full of shouts and cries, the whooshing and booming of energy releases, and the clatter of metal and pounding of bodies hitting the floor. He hadn’t often traveled to the art-oriented schools. There was a strange peacefulness to the area. Still, he couldn’t help but feel anxious about teaching his new class.

  Dovian stayed up much later than he had wanted the night before as he readied for his new lecture. And though his father thought him to be lazy, he usually over prepared for new experiences. Dovian had been so worried about his new duty that he didn’t get his nap in the day before and hadn’t slept well throughout the night. And now that he had to rush to the arts and literature compound immediately following his genetics class, he wouldn’t have the time to catch his usual nap once again or the entire semester for that matter.

  Dovian yawned. Some serious schedule changes were heading his way.

  A bell tolled, signaling the changing of class. In a mad flurry, the halls filled with robes of white and black mixed with colors of emerald and a touch of violet. Indeed, Dovian stuck out like a sore thumb. As if he didn’t feel out of place already, the eyes of the surrounding students all locked with his. Some must have recognized him from the whispering rumors of the Gaius lineage as they seemed to avoid him completely, moving to opposite sides of the hall. Others curiously gawked at him, as if to wonder why a soldier would be among the artists of the race. Were Scarlet warriors that rare of a sight in these halls?

  Dovian looked to his wristband, searching for the room number he belonged. A flicker of blue light revealed room 303 a couple of doors down. Good, he was close. Dodging a few running students, he slipped into his designated classroom. His nervous breath, which he hadn’t realized he had been holding, quickly slipped past his lips. Thankfully, his class was small. Some rooms held hundreds of students, but this one had nearly twenty—a good, comfortable size. At least, it should have been.

  As soon as Dovian made his entrance into room 303, the laughter and loud conversation immediately dropped into an eerie silence, the occasional whisper hissing. Dovian cleared his throat, moving toward the front of the class. The walls were decorated in a dark wood paneling, giving it a rich appearance. Bookshelves lined two of the walls, large windows covered another, half being pushed open. The fourth wall held a massive blackboard; a desk sat before it. The ceilings weren’t as tall as the cathe
drals but arched toward the center with a golden orb of light.

  “Sir Bayerd has been called to the battlefield. His return is currently unknown. Until then, I will be your substitute,” Dovian muttered. There was an audible gasp across the room.

  “Battlefield? But…he’s of Emerald status,” one boy spoke up.

  Dovian spun, his pale eyes moving toward the voice. “Yes, he is. He also has a valuable set of skills that happen to be extremely helpful at the moment. I’m not knowledgeable of the details, but I’m sure he’s of great importance if it requires someone such as me to become a replacement.”

  More whispers erupted, and Dovian suddenly felt unsure of his situation. He eyed the clock on the wall. Another bell tolled, telling him that now class had begun. He sighed. It was going to be a terribly long period. He turned to face the blackboard once again.

  “Is he of the Gaius lineage?” one voice broke out above the rest.

  “He’s too small to be of the Gaius lineage,” a separate voice quipped.

  “I thought he was the youngest one. The one who destroyed their family cathedral,” another replied.

  Dovian’s shoulders slumped, and he turned toward his students. The whispering immediately halted. Holding his hand out to the side, Dovian waved a finger toward the board. A tiny black device covered his pointer finger. From it an electric light shimmered out, etching his name into the surface.

  “I am of the Gaius lineage,” he spoke dryly. As expected, the students appeared nervous in his presence. Dovian had forgotten that many Sorcēarians had never gotten the chance to meet the Elder Gaius in person but had merely heard tales of his greatness. “You can call me Dovian. Sir is a far too formal title.”

  Once again, the murmurs from the students commenced. Dovian folded his arms, leaning back against the desk. This crowd certainly wasn’t shy, if not a bit rude. He would have to work on that immediately. Perhaps he could work in a few of his Scarlet tactics to discipline them. Dovian moved toward the door. As he began to close it, someone ran into the opposite side.

  “Wait! Wait-wait-wait!” It was Lita. She slipped through the crack in the door, her fingers rubbing her nose. She didn’t take one look in Dovian’s direction but continued her way toward her seat in the middle front row of the class. “Sorry! Late again! My genetics instructor doesn’t understand that I have other classes besides his. He insists on keeping me late!” she protested.

  Dovian dully stared at her. Slowly, a smirk spread across his face as the girl continued to complain about her previous class, the class that he had just taught.

  “Stupid eggs. It’s not my fault they won’t hatch. Even he can’t figure it out. I swear….” Lita finally lifted her head. Her eyes widened to twice their normal size. Taking a deep breath, she pointed an accusatory finger at Dovian. “AH! What are you doing here?!” she screamed.

  Dovian resumed his aloof pose. “Lita, keep your voice down.”

  “Voice down?!” She peered over her shoulders at her classmates. Some laughed; a few others glared at her, clearly annoyed. She gave Dovian a questioning look.

  The man pushed away from his desk and was at the front of hers in two large strides. Leaning forward, he firmly planted his hands on either side and eyed her suspiciously. “I am to be your substitute teacher until further notice.”

  Lita sank in her chair, groaning. “You mean I have to deal with you in two of my classes? Back-to-back?!”

  He sneered. “Precisely. Which also means you can’t show up late every day and blame me for keeping you.”

  Dovian returned to the front, spun, and casually leaned back against his desk again, his shoulders slumping. Lita’s lips flipped into a pout. He could see the questions spiraling through her mind as her facial expressions tweaked and twisted. She sagged in her seat and covered her head as she groaned. In Lita’s despair, her knapsack fell over, her books sliding across the floor. She was far too dramatic at times. She moaned, eyeing her fallen items, and lazily reached toward the bag but didn’t make much of an effort to pick it up. Instead, the girl beside her smiled and grabbed the items for Lita. She was tall and slender and had her dark brown hair pulled up and secured with an ornate metal clip. Lita leaned toward her and grumbled something and then returned her perturbed gaze back to Dovian. The girl giggled quietly and then looked at the man as well. Her violet eyes shimmered along with her grin. Dovian’s icy glare didn’t seem to faze Lita’s friend in the slightest. Instead of cowering like the others, she merely fed him a gentle smirk. Dovian’s nerves calmed a little.

  “Lita, sit up. I’m not going to put up with your shenanigans in this classroom either,” Dovian grumbled.

  He eyed his wristband, pulled up the syllabus, and ignored Lita’s tongue sticking out. Fingering through the list, he raised an eyebrow.

  “Ah, it seems you all are supposed to have a pop quiz today,” Dovian said.

  The room filled with a series of groans.

  “You all sound just as excited as I am.” Dovian ran his hand through his hair. “Please tell me you have the quiz on file.”

  The students pulled up the tests on their wristbands.

  “From your reading the night before, correct?” Dovian asked.

  There were a couple of whispers of confirmation.

  “A Theory on Love and War….” Dovian frowned. “A poem.”

  ‘Great,’ he sarcastically thought.

  For nearly the first half of class, Dovian asked questions while students wrote their answers. Toward the end, he noticed the dismal looks on his student’s faces. He shook his head.

  “I expected these to be multiple choice questions at least. Are your pop quizzes always this lengthy?”

  “Instructor Bayerd loves giving quizzes,” Lita said with an exasperated sigh.

  Dovian silently skimmed the rest of the questions. The students curiously watched as his face contorted into a look of displeasure. He sharply exhaled, dropping his arms as he gazed at the ceiling. “Ridiculous. We still have much to do.” Looking at the clock, he scoffed. “Did you all do the reading last night?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Did you all understand it?”

  They all nodded again.

  “Okay. That’s enough of the test. Let’s move on.” Dovian looked toward the bookshelves.

  The girl beside Lita gave Dovian an inquisitive look. “But, sir, we still have ten more questions to answer. I believe the final question truly addresses the reading as a whole.”

  Lita rolled her eyes. “Oh, my God! Quiet, woman!”

  The girl placed her hand against her collarbone. “I merely want to make sure I won’t be missing any points on my final score if we simply cut the quiz short.”

  Dovian lowered his head. She did have a point. “Do your wristbands have all of the questions listed?”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied.

  “Then for your homework, you may choose to answer the rest of the questions as extra credit toward your final score,” Dovian concluded.

  This seemed to appease some of the students. Lita gave an audible cheer. The girl beside her wrote in her journal. It was obvious who was the perfectionist in the classroom.

  “For now, turn in what you have. We need to get started on our reading.” Dovian looked toward the shelves once again. “Now, you’re all meant to read for the rest of the class period, correct?”

  “Yes. Who would you like to begin?” the girl beside Lita questioned.

  “Begin?” Dovian asked. “You mean, you read aloud?”

  The room filled with quiet snickers. The girl smiled innocently. Dovian wasn’t sure if she was condescending, kind, or pitied him for his ignorance.

  “Yes, sir. We read aloud.” She casually brushed a curl behind her ear.

  Dovian’s face fell. “I have a wonderful idea. How about you all read silently to yourselves the rest of class?”

  This created confusion among the students. Dovian glanced at the clock. Maybe he could get some peace and qui
et. He could take a nap while they read.

  “Are you serious?” Lita piped up, scowling.

  “Ah, the sound of your voice is always soothing to my ears, Lita.” Dovian closed his eyes in annoyance.

  “You're just lazy!” she accused. She always knew what Dovian’s intentions were, much to his annoyance at times.

  Dovian gave her a warning stare. “Lazy?”

  Once again, the students laughed. The sound tore him from his daydream. They had zero respect for him. But then again, he wouldn’t have much respect for himself at the moment. He was acting quite stubborn.

  “Yeah, lazy! You just want to sleep through class!” Lita rolled her eyes.

  “Like how you slept through mine last hour?” Dovian snapped.

  “You’re the teacher! You can’t sleep during class!” she argued.

  “Yes, I’m the teacher. Technically I can do what I want,” he fussed back. Eyeing the students, he cleared his throat and straightened his robes. “And sleep, really? As if I would fall asleep.”

  Lita gave him an expression that revealed she didn’t believe a word he said.

  “I’m sure your father and Sir Gaius would love to hear about that,” she mumbled.

  A couple ooh’s and ahh’s erupted around the room.

  Dovian’s face paled. “You, child, are a brat who deserves a week’s detention after the trouble you’ve given me today.”

  Lita folded her arms and whispered, “Perhaps you should choose your battles more wisely from now on.”

  Dovian leaned back, his jaw tightening.

  Of course. Lita was still angry with him for not taking her side during breakfast the day before. She had wanted to be a Scarlet warrior for most of her lifetime, but her father declined her requests repeatedly.

  “We will discuss this matter after class,” Dovian said through gritted teeth.

  Not only did she constantly put on a show during his genetics class, but now she made him look like a fool in front of his literature course as if he hadn’t done well enough on his own.

  “Everybody, get out your books.” Dovian rubbed his brow.