by A. R. Crebs
“Bring the war to us? You mean to Fountains? You want her to come to Fountains? Are you nuts?” Zombie asked, chewing on a plastic straw.
Aria nodded. “Exactly. Our home ground. We know it better than anyone else. We’ll set up outside the city. It’ll be exactly what she wants. Destroying our city would be pleasurable for her to watch. She wants to see the hope drain from our souls, right?”
Troy agreed. “That’s what she said.”
Aria grinned. “She’ll play by our rules. At least, until the war starts. There’s no telling what she’ll do in battle, but we at least can set a time and day, and she’ll follow accordingly. She wants all attention on her so a time and date would be perfectly fine by her standards as the whole world will be watching. It’ll give us time to thoroughly plan things out and regroup with all of our men.”
“I like it!” Kovacevic added his piece to the conversation. Clarke gave him a weary stare, and the man returned to his game of cards.
“Though I really don’t want our city to end up looking like Saray, you do have a good argument. We will finish up with our current briefing with the other militaries and finish forming alliances. That way we are somewhat prepared for a random attack by Sapphire in case she’s not interested in playing games. We will have our live meeting with Sapphire tomorrow. For now, I suggest you all get some rest. We’ve got sentries set up around the perimeter sending out constant sonar bursts. If anything heads our way, we will know immediately.” Clarke gave a rough salute. “Dismissed,” he weakly moaned.
The others turned, giving quiet mumbles and laughs. Aria was last to reach the door.
“Aria,” James called out.
The woman stopped mid-step, looking over her shoulder.
“You’re grounded.” James revealed a hint of a smile.
Aria fought her own grin, wrinkling her nose. “You can ground me once we defeat Sapphire.” She stuck out her tongue just as she did as a child and exited the room, shutting the door behind her.
“Kids…” Kovacevic scoffed.
James merely looked upon the generals and then the cards in their hands. “They aren’t the only kids in this room.”
Kovacevic gave a low, rumbling laugh. He chewed on his cigar, pulled a second from his pocket, and passed it to the President. “Just get your ass over here so we can finish our game.”
James chuckled and pulled up his chair. “Grayson?” He offered a hand of cards to the quiet man.
Grayson straightened his suit jacket. “Sorry, sir, but it would be no contest.”
Feyette and Kovacevic eyed one another.
“Sounds like big talk to me,” Feyette said.
“Awful big talk with nothing to back it up,” Kovacevic added, turning his stare toward Grayson.
The silent, well-dressed man had kept his position only a moment longer before he grabbed a chair, scooting in-between Feyette and Clarke.
“Placing bets?” Grayson coolly asked.
The morning sun cascaded a hue of orange across Dovian’s face. He meditated, sitting on the same rug within Lita’s bedroom. After dealing with the negative emotions and taxing actions from the day before, the Sorcēarian believed a long night of prayer was in need. Truthfully, it had been far too long since he had participated in what should have been his morning routine. The ways of his people were long lost even with the scarlet warrior still alive. He had forsaken not only the humans, but his own heritage. Now, Dovian felt a desperate need to somehow cleanse his soul, bring his faith back into the light.
Breathing in deeply, he ran his hands over his face. “It’s been far too long,” he tiredly spoke. “I wonder how I’ve managed to fail in everything. I’ve lived far too long, and it’s wearing me thin.”
Dovian dropped his hands into his lap, his vivid eyes paling into white orbs as he watched the world outside. Purple clouds stretched in thin streaks over the tangerine sky, the sun beaming rays across the meadows and pastures. Lines of wavering light snaked through the blades of grass as a gentle breeze rolled from the North. The silver lakes shimmered with gold specs; an albatross swooped down to gather a fish. A turtle sank into the waves. A musical song played from a bird's nest in a nearby tree. It was morning, and life was abruptly starting all over again. The idea clicked in Dovian’s mind. He had gone so long dwelling on the darkness that he had forgotten the beauty that surrounded him.
Laughter reverberated down the halls. The shrill sound made the gigantic building seem less like a tomb and more like home. Dovian looked over his shoulder, his lips parting as chills shuddered down his spine. Surrounding him was no longer the expected dark and dingy walls, torn curtains, and stained floors. Instead, the space surrounding the man was as beautiful and vibrant as it was thousands of years before. Emerald and plum drapes decorated the bedroom; the teddy bear and various knick knacks appeared as they did in their prime. The stone was polished beneath his feet, and the window next to him was now occupied with a clean pane of glass, opened outward to invite the morning wind. Pink petals blossomed from the bouquet atop the dresser, the scent tickling his nostrils.
Dovian spun, looking out the open door of the room. A blue radiance glimmered down the halls from the ancient text scribed along the surface. He followed the trail, listening to the giggling and chatter of two women. Awed, he slowly approached a room off to the side of the cathedral. It was a large library lit up by massive chandeliers. Crimson banners streamed from pillar to pillar up toward the vaulted ceiling three levels above. Tables filled the center walkway, elaborate chairs occupying the sides. Colorful beads of light highlighted each bookshelf in Legacy. The stone floor was adorned with carpeted paths a shade of red that matched the banners; gold fringe lined the edges.
The tittering sound came again, and Dovian moved his sight toward the end of one aisle. His throat constricted as the sight before him nearly made him fall to his knees. Lavender robes, tight bodice, and brown curls swooped and pulled onto the top of her head with an ornate clip. I’Lanthe stood at the end of the aisle; her slender hand lightly touching her glossy lips as she laughed quietly. She said something, looking to the side as if talking to another person. There was a pause, and then she laughed again, her white teeth shining in the light, her violet eyes creasing behind long black lashes. She stirred and looked toward Dovian.
“She’s been doing that for a while, now,” a female voice sounded right beside Dovian’s ear.
Dovian jolted, tearing his attention to the strange woman who stood beside him–Lilith. Something wasn’t right. As he looked at the sultry female, the scene around her was dim and dreary, what Dovian was used to. He curiously looked back toward where I’Lanthe stood. Ivory, dressed in the same garb with golden locks framing her face, replaced I’Lanthe’s form. She mumbled quietly, rolled her eyes, and then gave a high-pitched laugh. Dovian returned his gaze back to Lilith. Once again, the room darkened, the walls and furniture returned to their previously deteriorated state.
“What is this?” he asked.
Lilith gave a raspy chuckle, placing her hands on Dovian’s shoulders. “I see a crazy woman talking to herself.”
Dovian gaped back at Ivory, who was engulfed in bright light and surrounded by colorful banners.
“You don’t see as I see…” he murmured.
“Is there anything else to see? The girl’s crazy,” Lilith moaned. “Why don’t we go someplace private and discuss other matters?” She casually ran a hand between Dovian’s robes, running her nails across his abdomen.
Ivory momentarily fluctuated to an image of I’Lanthe. The beautiful woman’s purple eyes narrowed as she roughly placed her hands on her hips. She said something through gritted teeth, and the image bounced back to Ivory in her place. The blonde-haired woman stared at Dovian and then looked at Lilith.
“Get your smutty hands off of him!” Ivory snarled, pointing a finger in the woman’s direction.
Like glass shattering, the light engulfing the room splintered and burst, evaporating in
to darkness. Dovian grimaced, rubbing his eyes. Once he opened them again, Ivory was already at his side grabbing Lilith’s arms. She tugged the dark-haired woman away from the man, and the two began squabbling. They were still in the library though everything had returned to its gloomy, cracked state.
Lilith’s face twisted into one of disgust. Immediately, she recoiled and drew back her hand to smack Ivory. Dovian tugged Ivory away from Lilith and pinned her to his side. He gripped Lilith’s wrist and fed her a spiteful glare.
“Why don’t you find your way back to Sapphire’s cave?” he harshly suggested to the intrusive woman.
Lilith scowled. “You don’t expect me to live in that dark cave with the monsters, do you?”
“You are a monster just the same as them! You belong there,” Ivory snapped.
Dovian warily eyed the blonde. Her tone was like I’Lanthe’s. Their personalities were merging more with each passing day.
Lilith scoffed and ran a hand through her midnight hair. “If I’m a monster, then what does that make you?” Slowly turning on her heel, she winked at Dovian. “If you ever get bored with your little doll, you know where to find me.”
Ivory moved forward, but Dovian effortlessly held her back. Together they watched Lilith disappear into the shadows, her boot heels clacking against the stone.
“I can’t believe you let her touch you,” Ivory hissed.
“She snuck up on me. She has a habit of that,” Dovian explained.
Ivory lifted her chin, her eyes glowing. “I wouldn’t mind as much if she weren't actually a monster.”
Dovian gave a little chuckle, resting his chin atop the woman’s head. “Proof that even monsters get bored.”
“Well, she can make cave paintings or find something else to occupy her time. I’d prefer her to leave us alone,” she grumbled.
Dovian was silent, running his hand up and down the woman’s back as he held her to his side. After a minute, he couldn’t hold his questions back any longer.
“Who were you talking to?” he asked.
Ivory’s eyes dimmed, and she looked at the floor. “I wasn’t talking to anybody. I was looking at books.”
“You were talking. I heard you laughing,” he pressed further.
“Must’ve been the wind,” she said, her voice rising in pitch.
“Ivory,” Dovian stepped away but kept his hand on her back, “you were talking to I’Lanthe, weren’t you?”
Ivory pressed her lips together.
“Why won’t you tell me if this is true? It will not anger me,” he said.
Ivory gave an unsure smile. “I know it won’t anger you. I just…don’t want to upset you.”
Dovian weighed her answer. Why would he be upset? It would be great news if Ivory were able to contact I’Lanthe willfully. Perhaps I’Lanthe would be able to answer a few of his questions. If he showed any excitement toward this revelation, however, he could hurt Ivory’s feelings. He did not want that.
“I do not think it would bother me as much as my knowledge of the fact may upset you,” he spoke softly.
Ivory gaped at him, a look of shame crossing her face. “I didn’t mean to hide it. I didn’t know how you would take it.”
“So you were speaking with her?”
Ivory nodded slowly, avoiding eye contact with him. Even though Dovian knew that I’Lanthe’s soul was housed within Ivory’s body, each bit of information about her contact with the other woman excited him. Dovian’s eyebrows lifted as he tried not to express too much enthusiasm.
“Was this the first time?” he asked.
Ivory chewed on her lower lip. She shook her head.
“How many times?” he asked in shock.
“Many.” The word was quiet as it passed Ivory’s lips.
Many. It had been many times Ivory had communicated with I’Lanthe. Why hadn’t she told him?
Dovian rubbed the back of his neck. “When was the first?”
Ivory refused to answer. By this time, she was facing away from him. Her silence sent him on edge.
“I promise I will not get angry. I am merely curious,” he said slowly. It was a bit of a lie. If Ivory always had easy contact with I’Lanthe, then Dovian would feel a bit betrayed. Still, he knew of Ivory’s feelings, and he did not want to disappoint her.
“The Pendant Hotel,” she finally whispered. “In Roma.”
Dovian sighed. She hadn’t always had contact with I’Lanthe, but she had it the entire time she’d been housed with him in the ruins.
“It was only a few words in my head. But since I arrived here, they have been developing into full conversations. This was the longest yet. It felt so real…as if she were actually next to me.” Ivory wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m sorry, Dovian. All of this is very complicated to me. I’m not sure what to say or do. I’m not sure who you want me to be.”
The Sorcēarian wrapped his arms around her. Ivory was usually calmed by his touch he quickly learned. And by the way Sorcēarians reciprocated care and love casually through hugs or simple touches, Dovian had grown accustomed to comforting her.
“Nothing to be sorry for, Ivory.” He felt her relax at the sound of her name. “Be who you are. I’m glad you are speaking with her. I hope she provides some comfort for you as she once did for me.”
“She said that’s my job now.” There was a hint of grief in her voice. “I’m supposed to comfort you.” Ivory turned around in his arms, hugging him around his chest. “I’ll try my best.”
Dovian smirked, holding her in return. “We can comfort each other.”
“If you want, I can try to bring her out again. I know she misses you,” Ivory said.
“You don’t have to. When she’s good and ready, she can come to me. For now, I’m with you.” Dovian palmed the back of her head, surrounding her with his embrace. He didn’t notice the tear that slipped down Ivory’s cheek.
The gusting wind cut through Troy’s clothing, chilling him. He gave a forceful shiver and shoved his hands deep into his military trench’s pockets. Though the sun’s rays were beaming onto the earth, the December air was as cold as ever. It was only a matter of time before Fountains would become coated with ice like Cherno. If it weren't for the sweltering summers, the sudden cold of winter wouldn’t seem so harsh. This area of land was always on opposite ends of the weather spectrum. There was probably a month or two between the seasons that may resemble what once was known as spring and fall. Anymore, the high temperature mostly blended seamlessly into freezing within a month. Inside the city, however, was a different story.
Contained between the upper and lower cities of Fountains was a plate that housed the nuclear reactor. The reactor had vents that helped heat and cool the city, giving the artificial presence of actual seasons. Simulated rain and storms were brought to the city simply for the sake of aesthetic and psychological reasons. But take one step outside the main interstates and out into the dead land surrounding the megalopolis, and one could see what the real world was like. It was depressing to some, but for Troy, it was nostalgic. The outside world seemed to be a place locked in time. It was nearly always the same, desolate and quiet. Even now, as he stood on the thick grass of the cemetery, he felt isolated, locked in his own bubble.
Rarely a person ventured outside the city to visit the memorials of the dead. Because of this, Troy had made it a habit to come out in times when he needed to gather his thoughts or get away from humanity. It was peaceful and reminded him of the time when life was simple—when he was a young boy, and his father was still alive.
“How you doin’, dad?” Troy muttered, running his hand along the tombstone. He didn’t pause at his father’s stone but passed on by, making a beeline for Gavin’s place of rest.
Troy gnawed on his cigarette, letting the stick roll between his teeth. He stared at the marker a while, not sure how to approach it. He hadn’t been to the cemetery since the funeral, and he had spoken to Gavin mere hours before his death. It was strange, but his be
st friend’s demise was finally sinking in as Troy stood alone in silence in front of the stone that was etched with the title of his former buddy. The soldier briefly debated on leaving altogether, but something held him firmly in place. It was now or never. Troy would have to come to terms with the situation at some point. Now was the best time to do it as at any minute Sapphire's army could show up and kill him.
Troy cleared his throat. “Hey, man,” he spoke. His voice was soft and crackling–not the tone he had intended to use. He stepped forward. Was he ready for this?
As soon as Troy neared the tombstone, a hologram shot upward from behind the rock. It fizzled like static, sent a light over Troy’s body, and registered his voice and confirmed facial recognition. With a quick burst, the hologram imprinted lines throughout the area at the back the stone, creating a three-dimensional form. Within seconds, the blue figure was dotted with pigment, the blotches spreading like watercolors to create an exact replica of the person belonging to the grave. Caramel eyes locked onto Troy’s green ones. The bright smile twisted cockeyed as expected. A hand whipped through the hologram’s shoulder-length brown hair.
“You gonna stand there all day gawking at me or are you gonna offer me one of your cigarettes?” Gavin asked.
Troy gave a sudden laugh, tears welling in his eyes. It was an exact copy. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Gavin was standing before him in the flesh. This was much harder to deal with than his dad’s tombstone. No wonder Aria hated cemeteries.
“Yeah,” Troy stuttered, trying to clear the lump in his throat. He patted his pockets and pulled out his box of cigs. Fingering one of the thin sticks, he held it out toward the projection.
Gavin chuckled and took the offered cigarette. Much to Troy’s surprise, the graphics field actually held onto it. The hologram placed the item in its mouth but didn’t pull the tab.
“How long did you stand there before you grew the balls to come talk to me?” Gavin asked.