by A. R. Crebs
The Esoteric Design
Civilization Lost
Written & Illustrated by
A. R. Crebs
The Esoteric Design
Copyright © 2014 A. R. Crebs
The Esoteric Design: Disbanding Hope
Copyright © 2015 A. R. Crebs
The Esoteric Design: Civilization Lost
Copyright © 2017 A. R. Crebs
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1976433740
ISBN-10: 1976433746
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my cats—Hector, Xena, and Petey. I love you.
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Dovian’s Journal
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
"Lita"
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank all those who encouraged and supported me during the creation of this book. It was quite the endeavor, but worth it. I create not only for myself but for all of you as well.
The following are links to sites that I used for stock reference for some of the artwork within this book.
www.fotolia.com
www.freerangestock.com
www.texturez.com
Visit my websites for updates, more artwork, and to participate in some contests!
www.ARCrebs.com
www.ARCrebs.deviantart.com
www.facebook.com/ARCrebs
Prologue
2,828 S.F.
CREAK!
The bulky stone door—wood beaten into the surface and adorned with jewels of all shapes, sizes, and colors—gradually pushed open. The hand on the knob remained still. Azera stood in the doorway, his golden eyes targeting the hunched figure sitting at the desk inside the extravagant study. Despite the night, the floor-to-ceiling windows remained open, allowing a cool breeze to slip through and tickle the edges of the ashen drapes. The room was grand in design, nearly every inch of the walls full of books and antiquities. An ornate rug with hues of red, gold, and silver covered a large portion of the marble floor. Spiraling platinum lamps cast dull orange glows in the corners of the room. One floating orb of matching light bounced and pulsed above the drooping man at the mahogany desk. Papers surrounded him; some had scattered to the floor. A sudden gust of wind swept across the room, sending a few more pages into the air to dance to the ground. Deep thunder followed.
Azera’s eyes shimmered within the room. He tore his sight away from the figure in the center to the open window, eyeing the dark clouds. Another round of thunder groaned, and he released his hold on the doorknob.
“Young Gaius III, your grandfather has requested your presence,” Azera spoke; his deep voice barely affected the slumped man. “Elysia as well. She wishes to see you. She is anxious.”
Young Gaius’ hands which covered his face, his fingers locked in his silver hair, finally dropped. His knuckles knocked against the desk. He gazed intensely at the storm outside, his brilliant blue eyes fluctuating in brightness. With a trembling lip, he moved his attention to the floor. “I hear no sound of a baby’s cry.”
“The child is alive. She is not concerned about the baby. She is worried for you. She wonders why you have not been by her side,” Azera explained.
Gaius’ face wrinkled as he frowned. “I couldn’t be there, Azera. I heard there were complications; I couldn’t be there to watch another son die.”
“But he is not dead, and you need to see him live.” Azera moved to the hallway, not saying anything more.
Gaius lifted his head, watching as lightning darted between the clouds and streaked toward the Earth.
“It rains today,” he whispered. “As was foreseen.”
Standing, the man straightened his scarlet and gold robes then ran his hand through his hair. His halo beamed around his head, slowly spinning as he regained his strength and forced himself to move forward. The halls were eerily quiet. Usually, the city bustled with various sounds. Today, however, it remained still, whispers seeping from behind closed doors. The storm had moved in, bringing with it a howling wind. There was no music outside of one small wind chime that tinkled an erratic song. Further down, the man heard hushed laughter made by multiple persons. Gaius neared the door at the end of the hall. It was open only a bit, yellow light shining like a beacon into the dark hall. He stood before it, eyeing the crack. Firelight bounced inside the bedroom. Many surrounded the bed. One stood out from all the rest—his grandfather. The large man waited near the headboard, looking out to the storm. He turned, immediately locking eyes with young Gaius through the small opening.
“He’s here,” his grandfather spoke up.
Elysia sat on the bed, covered by multiple thick blankets. Her green eyes moved from the little bundle in her arms to the doorway. Young Gaius took a deep breath and pushed the doors open, sliding into the room. Elysia’s face lit up with a brilliant smile.
“Gaius. I was worried about you,” she said in a weak whisper.
The nervous man gave a cockeyed smirk, feeling ashamed for not being there in the first place. He moved toward her, avoiding the stares of the many others including his father’s, Gaius II. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he grabbed his wife’s small hand. She appeared to be sickly in color; a clip pulled her wine-colored hair away from her face, but a few strands had freed themselves and stuck to the sides of her forehead and cheeks.
“I’m sorry I made you worry. I should have been here by your side,” young Gaius softly replied. Finally, he looked at the small child in her arms. He frowned. It was as he feared. The baby boy was incredibly small.
“He’s little,” she said as if knowing her husband’s thoughts.
“I never heard him cry. I feared for the worst,” he mumbled.
“He’s not cried yet. He’s been asleep this whole time.” Elysia ran a finger down the baby’s soft plump cheek. He barely stirred.
Gaius looked to his grandfather.
“He is weak,” his grandfather said. “It’s as if he didn’t want to leave his mother’s womb.”
“Will he…become strong?” young Gaius questioned.
“Gaius III, my grandchild,” his grandfather spoke. “There is no telling at the moment what he may become, but for now, praise that he is alive and well.”
“Are you not happy?” Elysia asked. Tears welled in her eyes.
Gaius III lowered his head. He was happy to have his wife and son alive; however, the Golden Prophecy ordained that the Arbitrator would be strong and powerful. This child was half the size as their last, and even he had died in battle. The Gaius lineage became cursed as soon as they had fallen to the planet. He feared that this one would not be strong enough to last the night, let alone hold up to the foretelling.
“I am merely fearful for this little one. I’ve already lost one child. I do not wish to lose another,” Gaius spoke softly to his w
ife.
Elysia smiled, placing a hand on the man’s face. Her thumb ran over his red tattoo. “My sweet husband. Do not fear. He is a strong one. He’ll be just fine.”
“How do you know?” He kissed the palm of her hand.
Elysia looked at the infant in her arms. “Because I can feel it.”
Carefully, she handed the child over to the man. He timidly held it, and for the first time, smiled with joy. “Cute little thing,” he said with a short laugh. “Which name did you choose?”
Elysia gave him a sheepish look. “I’ve not decided yet.”
The man shook his head. “You’ve always been indecisive. The poor boy will grow to be a hundred before he receives a proper title from you.”
“It’ll come to me when the time is right.” She ran her fingers over the boy’s forehead, and the couple remained beside one another watching over him.
As time passed, the visitors each said their goodbyes and congratulations, and soon only the Gaius men remained in the room. Gaius II approached them. He was nearly as tall as the original Gaius but much wider with a burly build. His silver hair was a shade darker, and a full beard covered his square jaw. Like his mother had been, Gaius II’s skin was tanner than the other men in the line, but his father’s sense of humor was alive within. Whereas he would appear frightening at times with his narrowed piercing blue eyes, his smile was as broad as he was. The man squeezed his son’s shoulders as he looked down at Elysia.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful. Your sister will be very pleased to hear this. How jealous she is to know I’ve seen the boy before she has!” Gaius II bellowed a laugh.
Elysia giggled. “Send her my way as soon as she arrives.”
“Ah, but she won’t be here until late. I will not let Cyerys disturb you. Besides, she already told me herself to make her wait for morning. She doesn’t want to disturb your peace. But, once she is here, I’m sure you’ll get to rest your arms for a few hours as she will not want to put the child down!” The large man grinned.
“I look forward to seeing her.” Elysia smiled in return.
Gaius II looked over his shoulder at his father and gave a short nod. Pressing his lips together, he nodded toward Elysia as well and patted his son on the back. “Well, I’ll be taking my leave. Congratulations, my dear. And to you, son. He has your look.”
“Night, father,” Gaius III said, only tearing his eyes away from his newborn son for one second.
“Sleep well,” Elysia added.
“Ah, that I will. I’m a grandfather myself once again today. It is a glorious day!” Gaius II cheered with his hands in the air as he strolled from the room.
It remained silent a while before Sir Gaius stepped forward, his hands behind his back.
“Grandson,” he spoke.
The two on the bed looked up to the grand Sorcēarian.
“May I have a moment alone with Elysia?” he asked, giving a gentle expression.
“Of course, grandfather.” With a concerned look, he handed the child back to Elysia. Placing a hand on the baby’s head, he leaned forward and kissed his small forehead and then his wife. “I’ve got some work to do. I will be back in a little while to check up on you.”
Elysia nodded and held onto his hand. As he stood, he gave her fingers a squeeze and looked back to his grandfather. “Goodnight, Sir,” he added.
“Goodnight,” the older man replied. Sir Gaius watched his grandson take his leave and carefully sat on the edge of the bed beside Elysia.
“He seemed upset,” she sadly spoke.
“I know he is haunted by his past son, but do know that he is not feeling ill toward this boy. He’s always been a bit more anxious than his father. He gets it from his grandmother. He worries for you and the child.” The Elder ran his thumb across the baby’s chin; the golden cloth of his robes covered the infant like a blanket. The baby cooed lightly.
Elysia gasped. “That’s the first sound he’s made! Sir Gaius, I believe he likes your touch.”
The Elder Gaius smirked. “Oh, my dear, not nearly as much as his mother’s. He’s going to become attached to you.”
Elysia looked at the older man with fear in her eyes. “Should I be concerned for him? I don’t know as much as you or the Elders, but I am aware of the prophecy. Will my boy be alright?”
Sir Gaius, the original and first to have landed on Earth a couple of thousand years before, was one of the few who could see into the future and had his full divine connection with the Creator. As each Sorcēarian, outside of the Elders, was born on the planet, their genes became tainted by sin. It wouldn’t be long before each line became as saturated as humanity. And it wasn’t until now that Gaius began to worry for the end to come. As he stared at the child in Elysia’s arms, his heart ached for both the boy and mother.
“Know that I try my best to uphold my responsibilities for the race, even if it means keeping secrets from others. But, for you, I will let you in on some important information,” Gaius spoke softly, but Elysia could sense worry within the Elder.
“I should be concerned for him, shouldn’t I?” Elysia asked, holding the child protectively.
“He is weak, Elysia, because he is having second thoughts,” Gaius said. He gently placed his palm on the child’s forehead.
“Second thoughts?”
“The soul. It knew what was to come in its lifetime. While in the heavens, it knew of its purpose and role. While feeling assured and strengthened by the powers of the Kingdom, once being birthed, the soul can begin to feel earthly weakness. It is afraid and having doubts.”
“But…will he be alright?” She tightened her hold, running her fingers across the child’s cheek. A pale blue light repeatedly streaked over the baby’s tiny face.
Gaius smiled. “As long as you remind him of why he is here.”
“Why is he here?”
“He is here to feel love, to know it still exists, and to prove it to those above.” Gaius stood. He straightened his robes, threading the buttons at the top.
“To love him?” Elysia laughed. “Nothing could prevent me from doing so.”
“Know that I have much faith in you, but if he does not get well soon, we can begin to fear the worst,” Gaius added.
Dread stilled the woman as she watched the older man. He looked out to the storm. His square jaw tightened; his lips curled into a frown. Sir Gaius rarely frowned.
“I…I can heal him,” she whispered.
“I’ve no doubt you can, but it will require much of you,” he returned.
“Even if it kills me, he will live!” she defiantly stated as tears fell.
Gaius peered at her and gave a gentle smile. “And I know you will succeed. But with all things, there are always other possibilities. I know you will find a way.”
Elysia closed her eyes and began a prayer, the angelic voice singing from her. Her hands glowed with vivid light, encasing the child.
The Elder Gaius placed a hand on her hair and kissed her forehead. “Don’t tell your husband too much of this. He is worried enough as it is.”
“I didn’t plan on it,” she said between prayers.
Giving one last look at the man, she told him goodnight.
“Don’t forget about your own health,” Gaius said, his frown returning.
“I’m not of importance,” she whispered.
Gaius lowered his head, giving a slow nod in understanding. He took his leave, closing the door to the bedroom.
“Thank you, Sir Gaius,” Elysia whispered.
She remained in her place for days, locked in a trance while encased in light. She rarely took any breaks to rest or to eat and drink. All the while her husband was a nervous wreck. After a week, while deep in prayer, as Elysia was about to lose hope, she felt the tendrils of her life-force come to surface. She was a Sorcēarian. She was immortal. But severe physical harm could take her out as easily as a human, especially while in a weakened state. Elysia had avoided death countless times due to her amaz
ing healing abilities. She was one of the best in Ives, so when she realized not one bit of her healing prayer was helping her small child, she gathered up the white tendrils of light that were buried deep within her. It was the edge of her healing abilities, dancing along the line of her life-force. She continued to pull on the light, rushing it over the infant. Finally, pulling all she could of what remained of her magical energy; she sacrificed her healing power and sealed it within the boy. Now, no matter where he was, he would have her contained within him to heal him, to feel her love.
Exhausting all that she had, Elysia sighed and leaned back against the headboard, feeling what little remained of her life-force sinking back into her. She was famished, thirstier than she had ever been, and wanted nothing more than to take a long bath. As she closed her eyes to rest, a sound alerted her. It was a baby’s whimper. Opening her eyes, she looked down at her child. He wriggled and squirmed in her arms, fussing a bit as he struggled to open his eyes. Suddenly, a bright light seeped from the child’s irises, consuming the entire room. A beam shot through the open window and spread over the city in a brilliant flash, lighting up the night sky.
Elysia watched her child not in fear, but with hope as the light settled and erupted into thousands of tiny particles that danced around the room like fireflies. The glow in the child’s eyes dimmed, revealing a beautiful shade of blue as his father’s. He gazed at his mother and gave her a large, toothless grin.
“Oh! You’re the most beautiful thing!” Elysia burst into tears as she grinned.
At the sight of the mother’s crying face, the baby’s own wrinkled. Then, he began to cry. It was a loud, drawn-out wail.
“Oh no! I’ve got you started, now haven’t I?” Elysia happily exclaimed, rocking the baby.
The door to the bedroom slammed open. Gaius III stood rigidly in the doorway. His hair was a disheveled mess, his robes undone and twisted. He looked like hell, and Elysia laughed.
“He is crying!” Gaius shouted.
Elysia nodded, rocking back and forth.
“He is alright?” the man questioned.