by A. R. Crebs
“Not until I get in the water!”
“What’s the big deal?” he asked. “I’m naked.”
“That was your decision…” she replied.
Dovian shivered as he felt her hands plant against the back of his shoulders. He spun, catching her just as she tried to drop beneath the surface, nearly pulling him under with her.
“Oh! Guess I can’t swim…” she sputtered, her hands slipping as she tried to gain a firm grip on the man’s body. “It’s deep in this part.”
Dovian grabbed her waist, and she squealed, kicking her legs.
“What are you doing?” she frantically asked.
Dovian pulled her in close, pressing her against his body. The water was warm, as was his skin. He shook his head fast, his wet hair messing into spikes in all directions. Ivory held her breath as she matched his tense gaze.
“Teaching you to swim,” he said. “It could save your life someday.” He gently pushed Ivory backward, and she sank. Spitting and coughing, she stood up once her feet made contact with the floor of the lake. “We should start in shallow water,” he added.
“Thanks for the heads up,” she sourly spat as she rubbed her eyes. She felt like a fool, swimming up to Dovian and getting locked in his smoldering gaze, letting her feelings get in the way. “I thought this was supposed to be fun.”
“Before you and I can have any fun in this water…” Dovian began, swimming behind her. He placed a hand on her hip and whispered in her ear, “You’ll have to learn to swim.”
Ivory’s breath hitched. His flirtations were a bit unfair. Why was he toying with her? She wasn’t I’Lanthe. Was he only acting this way to be nice?
“Stay out of your head, Ivory,” he murmured. Holding her tightly, he lifted her gently so that her feet didn’t touch the sandy bottom.
He called her Ivory. She wasn’t sure if that was good or not, but it at least allowed her to believe that he didn't think she was I’Lanthe. Perhaps it was because I’Lanthe could swim.
“I thought you couldn’t read my thoughts,” Ivory grumbled.
“It’s obvious in your face. Remember, I’m supposed to be the sourpuss, got it?” he said.
Ivory gave a small smile. “You’re not so sour today.”
Chuckling, he replied, “Guess I woke up on the right side of the bed this morning.”
Dovian suddenly moved his leg between Ivory’s. She gave a quiet yelp, and he steadied her. “Let’s start with treading water…” he instructed.
The majority of the day had been spent on the lake with Dovian patiently teaching Ivory the basics. It didn’t take long for her to pick up on the exercise. No doubt the parts of her computerized brain were equipped with survival instincts. The robotic side of Ivory had no issues with learning to swim. The organic side, however, created conflicts due to emotion and lack of confidence. Whereas the first time Dovian asked her to try something, and she performed the task perfectly, Ivory developed issues performing over and again. He knew what part of the problem was, but there was nothing he could do about it since he was the issue. After a few trials and errors, Ivory soon became an adept swimmer, even taking it upon herself to swim out to the center of the lake to climb on Petey’s back.
Eventually, they took to floating about lazily. Ivory lounged on Petey, her hand trailing through the water. A low rumble came from above, and she wrinkled her brow, watching as the clouds darkened and plumed overhead. Her gaze remained on the sky as the final tendrils of light were eaten away, the bright colors fading to dark shades with an orangey hue overlaying the landscape. Another dull thunder sounded in the air, and a wet speck plopped against her cheek.
“Dovian?” she called out, looking to the side to search for the man. Ivory gave a gasp as she noticed he was looking upward, his back to her. He was nearly out of the water, standing nude in the open without much care about anything. It had been a while since he had spoken, and Ivory had assumed he was peacefully lounging as she was. Though she couldn’t see his face, Ivory could tell he was sinking into one of his moods. “Petey…go to Dovian,” she whispered.
Petey complied, swimming with grace toward the Sorcēarian. The lizard only gave a few strides before Ivory patted him on the head and jumped into the water.
“Wait here,” she said to Petey, her fingers scratching his nose.
Slowly turning to face Dovian, Ivory tensed and held her breath. He had lowered his head, and a hand rested against his forehead with fingers tangled in his hair. He appeared to be greatly distressed about something. Still, he did not acknowledge the woman behind him.
The thunder roared this time, and the rain began to pelt at random intervals. Ivory eyed her beautiful robes on the grass. She hoped they weren’t getting too wet in this quickly approaching storm. She tugged on her hands, unsure of what to do exactly. An abrupt exhale sounded from Dovian, his body bending forward as he struggled inside.
“Dovian,” Ivory whispered.
He groaned, his hand gripping his hair tighter. Lightning brightened the land in a white flash, the buzz of its current audible. An explosion of noise followed, jolting Ivory.
“Dovian!” she exclaimed. “Why is it raining?”
He straightened a little, his hand lowering from his head. He did not look at her. “I-Ivory?”
“Why is it raining, Dovian? I thought we were having fun,” she quietly spoke.
Dovian didn’t say anything. He stared at his hand, unmoving. Where was he? Where had his mind taken him to?
Ivory gathered her courage. What would I’Lanthe do? Apparently she was strong and capable of handling Dovian with ease. Taking a breath, she reached out and gently touched Dovian’s shoulder. The man finally looked straight ahead; his gaze set on nothing. He did not protest to her touch, did not utter a word, and remained statuesque before her. She carefully wrapped her arms around his chest, pulling him against her. His tense muscles relaxed, and she felt his weight lean back against her for support.
“Dovian…why is it raining?” she softly asked.
“Is it?” he muttered dryly, looking back up at the sky.
“Yes, it is,” she whispered. “We were swimming and enjoying the warm sun.”
Dovian placed his hands over hers. “My apologies. I’m so used to it; I didn’t notice.” His voice was void of emotion.
“The rain is beautiful, Dovian, but I think we should get out of the water. I don’t want to be fried by lightning,” she said with a hint of amusement.
“That would not do well; I know what that feels like….” Word by word, his usual temperament resurfaced.
“You’ve been struck by lightning?” she asked.
Ivory continued holding Dovian from behind; her cheek pressed against his back. It was comforting to her. The wind had picked up, causing her to shiver in response.
“Three times to be exact. Not fun,” he muttered. “You are cold.”
“Hmm.” She nodded. “You are warm.”
Dovian roughly sighed. “Come; let’s go inside. It’s past lunchtime anyway.” He finally looked at her. “And I need my pants,” he added.
Ivory laughed. “Well, go get them!” She pushed the man, and he stumbled away from her.
Ivory then turned to Petey, letting the Sorcēarian get dressed. The rain was beginning to fall harder. The sound was like grinding gravel as the droplets pelted against the waves around her. After a moment, she turned toward the shore and led Petey out of the water. Hector, lying in a patch of overgrown grass, made snorting noises as he awoke from his slumber. Dovian snatched up Ivory’s robes and helped her get dressed as the lizards darted for the double doors of the cathedral, eager to get inside and out of the rain. Another roar of thunder sounded, and Ivory shrieked as she ran to the entrance. Dovian lazily followed, motioning the doors to open. They all gathered inside. Petey struggled to squeeze through the frame, causing the wood to splinter and crack.
“Dear God, Pete…I’m starting you on a diet,” Dovian grumbled as he watched the gia
nt creature waddle into the grand foyer of the church.
Petey snorted as he walked away from the Sorcēarian and followed Hector into the corridor that led to one of the kitchens.
“Seems they know what time it is,” Ivory said cheerfully. She tightened the brace around her waist, fiddling with the strings behind her back, and then tugged her hair up and secured it with I’Lanthe’s clip.
“To a frilled monitor, every minute of the day is lunchtime,” Dovian quipped.
He led the way to the kitchen area, halting at the doorway. Lost in thought, he looked back at the woman, and she awkwardly tried to avoid his stare.
‘Be confident. Be calm.’ Ivory told herself.
She lifted her chin. “You look at me as if I’m food, Dovian.” She inwardly grimaced at her phrase. What did that even mean?
Dovian smirked, running a hand through his hair again. “You make it easy to stare; that’s all,” he murmured. “Tea?”
Ivory tilted her head. “Tea? Oh, yes! Tea! Sounds good.” She pondered momentarily, fidgeting uncontrollably. “Have I had tea?”
Dovian chuckled, heading into the kitchen to prepare a kettle. “You’ve always loved tea. If you didn’t have it with your morning breakfast, it was best to avoid you until you did.”
Ivory smiled.
“As of late, I don’t recall you ever having the pleasure of drinking any.” He heated up some water in a ceramic pot with minimal effort within the palm of his hand. “Perhaps that is why you’ve been grumpy.” He gave her a wink.
Ivory placed her hands on her hips. “Perhaps you should start drinking tea more often if that’s the case.”
Dovian’s smile faltered. “About earlier….” He shook his head as he brewed the tea.
Ivory took a seat on one of the stools beside the island. She ran her hand across the smooth marble surface. The kitchen was a little worn, but she could tell it used to be something magnificent. Eyeing the man, she frowned. She pitied him greatly, but she didn’t want him to think that she perceived him to be weak.
“Don’t worry about it, Dovian,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine all the things you’ve been through. I don’t think anyone in this world can ever understand what you’ve gone through and what you are currently going through. But I want you to know…I’m here for you. I want you to talk to me, alright? Don’t keep secrets from me. Don’t bottle things up.”
She stared at the colorful blobs intertwined in the countertop and gave a small shiver as her wet undergarments chilled her. A porcelain cup gently slipped in-between her hands, the warmth calming her. Funny, she didn’t feel the cold or the heat as if she were a regular human. Instead, her readings created a false sensation within her. Was she capable of feeling anything at all or was it merely artificial stimulation and response?
Dovian sat on a stool beside her. “And I want you to do the same,” he said.
Ivory lifted her head. He gave her a tired look. She wondered if maintaining any emotional stability was draining for the man.
“I’m trying my best,” she said. “I want to be here for you.”
“I appreciate it, Ivory. I know I must be rough company. Being alone for thousands of years has only made things more difficult to deal with, especially when being thrown into social situations once again. Not that it is unpleasant. I sometimes get lost in my thoughts. Imagination and memory were the only comforts I had all this time.” Dovian sipped his tea.
Hector waddled up to him, planting his head on Dovian’s foot. The man pulled open a side drawer and grabbed something wrapped in parchment paper. Ivory watched as Dovian spoke. He instinctively undid the wrapping around the treat and handed it to the reptile. He only paused a moment to tell Hector to share the dried meat with Petey, which the lizard did, but with reluctance.
“As I get lost, I find it hard to pull myself out of the pit of darkness. It consumes all. Sometimes I'm locked into it like a trance, and I don’t realize I’ve barely moved, eaten, or said anything for days. Though who to talk to other than myself and Hector? If I’m not talking to myself, then there is something certainly wrong.” His cockeyed grin formed; his youthful face returned. He was trying, and Ivory appreciated the gesture.
She grabbed his hand. Dovian flinched at the touch at first, but the tense muscles in his chest and neck finally relaxed, and he ran his thumb over her knuckles. It had been so long since he even shared casual contact with another person’s skin. Physical contact was once an ordinary, everyday thing for Dovian. Hugs and kisses shared with family and friends were a constant. Chatting and giggling was common practice. Interaction was a necessity. Everyone shared everything whether it was words, laughter, tears, or just simple, unspoken company.
“Don’t despair, Dovian,” Ivory spoke softly.
He looked hurt, fighting within himself to keep calm.
“I’ve lost it all…” he whispered. His eyes glistened in the pale light of the lit lanterns above them.
‘Oh dear, don’t cry,’ Ivory thought. She didn’t think she could handle seeing Dovian cry. It was already taking all she had not to give in and hold him and cry with him.
“I had it all, and then I lost it all,” he mumbled, a single tear falling from his eye. “My paradise….” Dovian quickly palmed the wet stain on his cheek. “And I still cry about it as if I’m a child,” he grumbled bitterly.
“There’s nothing wrong with that!” she said quickly. “Dovian, you are strong. You have lasted this long, and despite everything you’ve been through, you hold yourself together fairly well.”
He scoffed. “Hardly.”
“You had fun with Petey, Hector, and I today, did you not?” she asked.
Dovian nodded. “It was fun.”
“So what got you sucked in?”
Dovian looked at his cup, watching the tea swirl in a circular pattern. “I was thinking about happier times. Days where there was no impending doom lingering on the doorstep. Days where my biggest worry was whether or not my students will turn in their homework. Days where I wondered if I could gather the courage to hold a conversation with I’Lanthe without looking like a fool. Simple days. A time that no longer exists.”
“We could make it that way,” Ivory suggested.
Dovian lifted his gaze. “As much as I want to, I can’t help but blame myself for this whole mess. You don’t belong here, Ivory. This whole world is on the verge of destruction, and I am doing nothing about it. I’m sitting in a kitchen drinking tea and…playing house.”
Ivory’s face fell. He was absolutely right. Still, his words hurt for some reason. She was at a loss for what to do. Could she ease his pain, or was she only hurting him more? If the world did end up the way Sapphire wanted it, would the two of them even be able to live with one another? Could they accept their fate as being cowards who allowed the world to be consumed by Hell? How could they live with themselves?
“I’m sorry, Dovian.”
He was silent.
“I wish I could bring all of that back for you, change the past, and prevent the future. I wish I could send you back to a time where you were happy and lock you there for an eternity. You don’t deserve any of this,” she said.
“You owe me nothing, Ivory,” he murmured.
“I owe you everything! You’ve saved me numerous times, showed me kindness, and filled me with hope...” she hesitated. Love. He also filled her with love, but she couldn’t say that. Those were words that he needed to hear from I’Lanthe, not her.
“Hope for what, Ivory?” Dovian stood from his seat. He dug through the cupboards, pulling out random spices and jars of liquids. He gathered an assortment of vegetables from what appeared to be a refrigeration device. Sorcēarian technology was strange but seemed to last through the ages.
“Hope for the future, Dovian. Not Sapphire’s future, but our future,” she said. Ivory watched him a moment. “What are you doing?”
“Making soup. It helps take my mind off of things.” He began slicing some potatoes a
nd carrots, tossing the bits into a large pot. “And what is our future, if not for Sapphire’s way?”
“You, me, Hector, and Petey…” she stated hopefully. “Aria and Troy, too.”
Dovian looked up at her. That actually sounded quite pleasant. It would be a good start. But what about throughout time? What would Dovian do after Aria and Troy were gone, after everyone he knew once again lived out their lives?
As if understanding Dovian’s thoughts, she continued. “I’m an android…I can last. I can live in this dead world with you. We can bring it back to life,” she stated with determination. A small, breathy laugh passed her lips. “I may need some repairs now and then, but I think we could make it work.”
“Every relationship has its quirks,” Dovian said jokingly, only it sounded more sarcastic than anything. Did he not like her idea?
“Of course…I can’t replace what you’ve already lost,” she added.
Dovian heavily dropped the knife onto the countertop. Ivory was startled by the sound. He was avoiding her stare again.
“I should learn to stop bringing it up,” she whispered.
“You should,” he agreed.
Her eyes cast downward to her hands.
“But not because I do not like you mentioning her. It is because when you say things like that, you are diminishing your self-worth. You are more valuable than you know, Ivory. Much better and stronger and smarter than you think. You are a stunning young woman, and you have an excellent, wonderful future ahead of you. So stop devaluing yourself. Got it? You’re beautiful.” He pointed the knife at her, his eyes blazing. “Say it….”
“Say what?” she asked, intrigued by his behavior.
“Say that you are beautiful.”
“No!” she gasped, looking down again.
“Ivory!” he shouted.
“I…” she started.
“You are beautiful,” he repeated. “You matter.”
“I…I can’t,” she laughed sheepishly.
Dovian looked at the ceiling. “I’m beautiful!” he shouted. “I am beautiful and I matter!”