by A. R. Crebs
A low growl sounded from the area where Dovian had ventured to. Ivory became stiff, her eyes looking, unblinking, at the corner of the wall. She listened. The growl called again, followed by a vicious snarl, a bark almost. Ivory barely had any time to react as the pounding of footsteps neared, and an enormous lizard rounded the corner. Its golden eyes stared at her as it trudged straight ahead. The woman gasped, lowering herself a little as she stumbled backward against the fountain.
“Dovian!” she squeaked, watching the lizard claw across the lawn at her.
The reptile slid to a halt, reared, kept eye contact with her, and warbled noisily. It stamped its feet onto the stone, huffing slightly, and its neck flaps expanded outward with brilliant colors.
“All show and no bite,” Dovian chuckled as he reentered the area.
“Where were you?” Ivory yapped irritably. She quickly ran to the Sorcēarian’s side, latching onto his arm.
“Well, I was retrieving….” He noticed Ivory’s frightened stare. He didn’t realize how terrifying the lizard could be to someone who’s never seen one so large before. “Sorry. I should probably introduce you two properly,” he said, running a hand over the backside of his head.
“Introduce?” Ivory asked, looking from Dovian to the lizard.
“Oh, yes. This isn’t just your typical lizard.” Dovian walked away from the woman. With grandeur, he held out his arms, displaying the massive frilled monitor for Ivory to see. “Ivory, I introduce to you, the great….”
The lizard flicked its tongue, straightening its posture to look all the more impressive as Dovian spoke. It gave a small, proud bark. Ivory watched the creature in awe. Its golden eyes were mesmerizing yet frightening.
“The majestic,” Dovian continued, “King Petey!” He gave a short bow beside the lizard.
Petey stomped his feet again, his tail curling around his body as he noisily honked with pride. Ivory’s fearful expression quickly lifted into one of amusement. A high-pitched giggle slipped past her lips.
“King Petey?!” she asked, laughing.
Dovian lifted his head, giving her a feigned look of shock.
“Yes, King Petey. King of all the frilled monitors, the largest lizard since the dinosaurs, the largest beast ever created by the Sorcēarians, a creature most fierce and not to be taken lightly.” He gave her a wink.
Ivory quickly bobbed her head. “A name most deserving of a king.”
“A mighty king.” Dovian lifted his eyebrows, looking at Petey out the corner of his eye. The lizard was enjoying the boastful speech, looking as grandiose as possible in the comparatively small garden. “Though he may be a bit fat,” Dovian added.
Petey squawked an unflattering sound that caused dribble to spill from the side of his chops. Ivory laughed again, watching the lizard with more ease.
“Aw, it just gives him more to love, Dovian,” Ivory said, approaching the king lizard. “And frilled monitors need lots of love, don’t they?”
Petey loosened his posture, lowering his head so Ivory could give him a pat on the snout. She cooed and made kissy sounds, running her hand over the creature’s scales.
“Especially the big ones, they need extra love,” she added in a loving tone.
Petey almost purred beneath her touch, pounding his feet with joy against the stones.
“Well…I wouldn’t give him too much,” Dovian murmured with his arms folded over his chest. “He’s spoiled enough.”
“Is that jealousy I hear?” Ivory asked.
Dovian smirked, looking to the side.
“Jealous?” he asked. “Of a fat lizard?”
Petey snorted, glaring at the Sorcēarian.
“It’s okay, Petey. Don’t mind him; he’s just a bitter, old man,” she snickered.
“Old man?!” Dovian protested.
Ivory looked sideways at her companion, giving him a playful grin. He narrowed his eyes at her, letting her have her laugh.
“Have you had him this entire time?” she asked.
“No. I only discovered him the other day, after Troy and Aria escaped. If it weren’t for Pete, they probably wouldn’t have made it.”
“Did you help them escape?” Ivory asked the reptile. Petey gave a small chirp, and she gasped, “Good boy!”
Dovian was quiet a moment, watching Ivory interact with Petey.
“I helped Pete out, too, you know,” he mumbled.
“Oh? And how did you do that?” she asked.
As Ivory turned her attention to Dovian, Petey disapproved, pushing his face in front of hers to demand more pets.
“He was injured in a cave. The poor old boy had a terrible time trying to heal.” Dovian looked beneath Petey’s head, catching Ivory’s blue gaze. “I helped out by curing him.”
“Dovian, are you competing for attention?” she bluntly asked.
His mouth dropped open, and he was silent a moment. “No…how ridiculous. Why would I be competing for attention?”
“Now you are blushing.” She smiled.
Dovian quickly pulled away. “I am most certainly not blushing. It must be sunburn.” He pressed his fingers against his cheeks.
“No…no, I definitely think that was a blush.” She nodded.
“I am a Sorcēarian and a man; I do not blush!” he sarcastically exclaimed.
“You’re getting redder.” She pointed at him, laughing.
The man quickly pulled his hood over his head and stomped toward the fountain. Sitting on the side of the spring’s wall, he refused to make eye contact with the woman. His sudden, childish behavior was certainly a spectacle. Ivory could sense he was trying to make her feel more at ease with him.
“I think I made him mad,” she playfully whispered to Petey. The lizard snorted, nodding his head. “Stay here,” she said, patting him on the nose.
The woman turned, peering at the brooding Sorcēarian. He refused to acknowledge her. Ivory trotted to join Dovian’s side at the fountain. He quickly turned away from her, arms folded. She giggled, leaning toward him, trying to gain sight of his glowing eyes. When she saw no glow because of his closed lids, she pouted.
“Seriously? You’re going to act like this?” she asked.
He ignored her.
Feeling a bit agitated, she twisted the man to face her and tugged off his hood. He looked at her with wide eyes.
“Well, I think it’s cute,” she said quietly with a dazzling smile.
“What is cute?” he asked.
“You…blushing.”
Dovian’s frown deepened. “So now I’m cute?”
“When you blush!”
“I don’t blush all the time, do I?” he asked, grimacing.
“No…most of the time you are frowning…like this.” She mimicked him, jutting her jaw out, her mouth twisting into an upside down arch. It was a terrible look for her, but it proved her point.
“I’m not sure which is worse, me blushing and being cute, or me looking like that on a regular basis,” he grumbled.
“The frowning is much worse.” She nodded.
He gave an airy laugh.
“And that is even better,” she added.
Dovian stiffened as Ivory placed her fingers on the edges of his mouth. Her fingertips pushed and forced the man into an awkward smile. Ivory certainly had no issue with personal space. Dovian forced a toothy grin, and the woman cringed.
“No, not like that! A real smile!” She pushed his face into another creepy expression, and Dovian quickly grabbed her wrists and lowered her hands from his face as he chuckled, giving her a more natural smile. Ivory merely watched, giggling with him.
“Much better.” She clapped her hands together. “Do you agree?” she asked Petey.
Dovian sighed, looking at the hefty snorting lizard. At least Ivory was feeling more cheery.
“So…what happened to Petey? I mean, you said you had to heal him.” She changed the subject.
Dovian relaxed, glad the topic was no longer about his smile. “He had b
een chased by a giant demon. He allowed Aria and Troy to ride on his back. Once the two were safe, he tried to escape the monster and leapt all the way from the top of the cavern but had fallen to the bottom. The monster and all of Petey’s comrades followed after. Luckily for him, Petey can heal himself over a period. All the others,” Dovian faltered, “were not so lucky. They all died.”
Ivory gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. After a second she blurted, “Poor things! Oh no! What about Hector? Was he there?”
“No, no…Hector is alright. He was able to escape. In fact, he’s….” Dovian paused and turned to Ivory, a genuinely confused look on his face. “Have I ever told you about Hector?” he asked.
Ivory stopped to think a moment. “I…I don’t know.” She blinked slowly, staring at the garden floor and then looked over at King Petey. “I just remember Hector was a standard frilled monitor. He was smaller than others but had a big appetite for albatross eggs and jerky. He slept on a large pillow on your bedroom floor and loved the smell of orchids.”
Dovian’s whole body went ice cold. There was no way he ever indulged in telling Ivory so much about his pet.
“What else do you remember?” he asked.
“I remember…I remember!” she gasped. “Why do I remember things?”
Ivory quickly jumped to her feet. She held her hands against her face, looking at her surroundings, gasping quietly to herself.
“This garden….” She locked eyes with Dovian.
He nodded at her slowly but remained silent.
“This…this is my garden,” she whispered.
"No Hesitation"
Chapter 4
Clattering raindrops musically played against the stone walls and pathways; the drips plopped into the fountain and pinged against Dovian’s brass armor. A soft rumble vibrated the earth, creating a shiver down Dovian’s spine as he watched the stunned woman before him. With her pale hands planted on her cheeks, her blue eyes shimmered as she took in the sight of the garden. The wet orchids, the grass, and the stone pillars that supported the opening into the side of the building that led into a vast bedroom were all familiar. It was a home; it was her home. She was in her private garden where she used to sit and play with the butterflies and birds beside the fountain. Usually, the first thing she’d do when she awoke in the morning was travel barefoot into this garden to see what the weather was like.
Ivory closed her eyes, memories flickering at light speed through her mind. It was surreal. She'd have breakfast at a small table located next to the opening in the wall. She’d practice the cello or the flute in the far corner of the room. She could see everything still in its place, right where she had left it. Her bed was neatly made with an oversized fur blanket sitting atop it–the same soft blanket that she used to lay on during the storms that Dovian loved so much. He would lay with her, hold her, and they would often make love in this room. Ivory gasped, her hands covering her face. Peeking through her fingers, she eyed the man sitting on the fountain. He was staring at her in awe. But these memories weren't hers, they were I’Lanthe’s.
Ivory quickly shifted her eyes toward the ground, her hand gripping the dog tag around her neck. She shivered in the rain, feeling the taps as it washed over her body. The scent of the flowers was stronger than ever. It was a smell she shouldn’t have recognized, but did. Her pink lips twitched as she gave a quiet whimper, tears welling in her eyes.
“Ivory,” Dovian whispered, rising from his seat. He placed his hands on her shoulders, causing her to jump. Still, she did not look at him. “What’s wrong?” His voice was gentle, but the sound only made her want to cry harder.
“No,” she whispered. “These aren’t my memories.”
“They are,” he reassured her.
“No!” She hastily shoved his arms away. “These are hers!”
Thunder above answered her shout, and she flinched.
“Ivory…I don’t know what to say.” He looked utterly helpless. What could he say?
“She’s inside me, isn’t she? Is that why you brought me here? For her memories?”
“No!” Dovian reassured her. “It isn’t like that. I wanted to get you out of those caves, away from Sapphire. I wanted to bring you to a place where you would feel safe.”
“By bringing me to her home? Dovian, of all the places…you brought me to your dead girlfriend’s home?!”
Dovian froze, accepting Ivory’s harshness.
“You could have taken me anywhere! Your home, your friend’s home, a stranger’s home, anywhere! But you brought me here.”
“I brought you here because I am familiar with it and because I hoped you would be comfortable here as well,” he spoke slowly, trying his best not to sound irritated.
“How am I supposed to feel comfortable here?” she asked.
“You remember it, don’t you?”
“From her memories!”
“No, Ivory! They are your memories, too!” he argued.
“How are they mine? I’m not I’Lanthe!” she shrieked.
“Then who are you, huh?” he yelled.
Ivory gaped at Dovian with wide eyes. He quickly composed himself, wiping a hand over his face.
“See? You don’t even know who you are. You may think you are Ivory, but where are your memories from that lifetime?” he questioned.
“I, I don’t know,” she meekly replied.
“You haven’t had a single recollection of your past this entire time you’ve reawakened. Even when you saw your little sister, you didn’t recall a single memory of her. You still haven’t, have you?”
Ivory lowered her head again. “No…” she whispered.
“Listen to me.” He placed his hands on her shoulders again. “I did not bring you here to have you live vicariously through my past and dead girlfriend.” The last two words sounded bitter as he spoke them, and Ivory regretted saying them before. “I brought you here for you, no one else, alright? If you don’t want to stay here, we can go somewhere else. But, please, hear me out. You do have a connection to I’Lanthe whether you like it or not. I’m not saying you aren’t you, but you are sharing a consciousness with her. Now, if I can help you to remember who this woman once was, I will. If it will help you remember your past, anybody’s past, I will do it.”
“Do you want me to be her?” Ivory asked quietly.
Dovian remained silent for a moment. Of course, he did. He wanted more than anything for Ivory to be I’Lanthe, but he couldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t ask her to be that. Ivory was more than a vessel holding I’Lanthe’s soul. She had a mind of her own; it just happened to be damaged.
“I want you to be who you want to be. If you want to remain who you are now, then we can leave and go somewhere else. If you want to know more about the memories and feelings you are having, we can stay here. Develop your life the way you want to, not the way you think I want you to,” he said.
Ivory sighed, looking around Dovian toward I’Lanthe’s bedroom. Her despairing expression quickly melted back into a shy smile. Dovian’s features softened, and he lowered his hands from her.
“She could play the flute?” she asked.
“Very well,” he replied.
She met his gaze. “Do you think I’ll remember how?”
Dovian shrugged. “You want to try it out?”
Ivory nodded and walked past Dovian, entering the room. He watched her, his expression holding one of worry. Was she actually interested in I’Lanthe, or was she only doing this for him? A soft snort and nudge distracted the Sorcēarian.
“You don’t like the rain, Pete?” Dovian turned to the lizard. The creature huffed and pressed the top of his snout against Dovian’s shoulder, pushing him toward the entrance of the home. “Okay, okay. You don’t have to be so rude.”
A high melody commenced and a flurry of notes raised in pitch. Dovian looked toward the corner of the room where Ivory stood blowing into the silver flute. He entered the room, slowly approaching the woman as she played
various harmonies and arpeggios. Petey gave a small groan and plopped onto the stone floor just inside, wrapping his tail around his body. The lizard closed his eyes, the music lulling him into a deep sleep. Dovian listened, leaning against the wall near an ornate window-seat. The music was strangely nostalgic. It was a sound that went far too long away from his ears. He watched Ivory, who sat on the edge of the table much like I’Lanthe used to. Her gaze was straight ahead, watching the rainfall. The focused look in her eyes attracted Dovian’s attention. In the darkness of the room, Ivory’s eyes seemed to hold an ethereal glow. He made note of this and how they flickered when the woman shifted her attention in his direction.
A brilliant flash of light temporarily ignited the room followed by a loud crackle of thunder. Ivory’s concentration diverted, and she fumbled with a few notes before the flute’s music faded into a couple of breathy hoots. Apprehensively, she lowered the instrument and looked over at Dovian, her eyes back to their usual shade of blue. He smiled at her, determined to keep her spirits up.
“You play very well,” he said.
Ivory looked at the flute in her hands. “I doubt I had before I died.”
Dovian pushed away from the wall, his hand gripping his staff. “Stop thinking like that.”
Ivory gawked at him.
“I want you to focus on one thing.” He lifted a finger. “One thing, got it?”
She bobbed her head.
“These memories, the ones you say are I’Lanthe’s, so what if they are?”
“They aren’t mine,” she squabbled.
“But does that matter? What difference does it make? Think of them as yours. You remember them, make them yours. But also realize this; you have memories from the past few weeks, correct?”
Ivory nodded again.
“Those are genuinely your memories, correct?” he asked.
“Right.”
“Focus on those memories. So what if you remember things from the past that you think wasn’t yours? Do you feel comfortable here?”
She looked over the bedroom. “Yes.”