The Esoteric Design: Civilization Lost

by A. R. Crebs

  “He is going to be just fine,” Elysia replied. “And his name is Dovian.”

  "Worried"

  Chapter 1

  2,836 S.F.

  Elysia gathered up the largest pot she could find and set it on the stove, the metal clanging noisily. Leaning to the side, she whispered a small spell, and a flicker of flame beneath ignited. Her brow wrinkled as she gave a sharp hiss, her fingers lightly touching her temples.

  “Mama? You have another headache?” a small voice asked behind her.

  Elysia quickly turned, giving a large smile. “Nothing at all to worry about, Dovian. Mother is simply getting old.”

  The little boy, sitting at the marble island in the center of the kitchen, wrinkled his nose. “You don’t look old.”

  Elysia giggled. “Oh, well thank you, sweetheart. I wish I felt as young as I looked!” Pouring a bowl of water and broth into the pan, the woman eyed her young boy. “Are you going to help me today?”

  Dovian nodded vigorously.

  “You want to wash the vegetables?” she asked.

  Dovian’s nose wrinkled again. “I wanted to cut them.”

  “You always want to cut them, but I’m not sure I trust you with sharp objects just yet,” his mother teased.

  She gathered an assortment of spices and some potatoes and carrots. Carelessly, she dropped them in front of the boy. He glared at the vegetables as if he were insulted by them.

  “And what warrants that expression from you?” She placed her hands on her hips.

  “We’re having stew again?” he asked.

  “Again?” Her eyebrows rose. “We haven’t had stew in two months.”

  “That isn’t very long if you’re a Sorcēarian,” the child protested.

  Elysia returned to the countertop beside the stove, searching for the best cutting knife. “You are only eight years old. You’ve no idea!”

  “Eight years is a long time, mama!” Dovian pouted, kicking his feet back and forth from his raised seat.

  Elysia looked over her shoulder, laughing quietly. Her burgundy hair danced in the wind from the open window. She watched her boy a moment, sighing deeply. He poked a potato and mumbled to himself, then picked up a few carrots and began pulling off the leaves.

  “If you help me clean those veggies, I’ll let you cut a few carrots. How’s that sound?” She dumped some seasonings into the pot.

  Dovian lifted his head, his icy eyes widening. His silver hair was a wild mess. A few streaks of dirt covered his left cheek where he tried to draw his own tattoos. The poor kid was entirely too eager to grow up. It saddened Elysia. She loved her little, curious boy. She wished he would remain small forever.

  “Alright!” Dovian cheered, hopping from his seat. He grabbed as many carrots and potatoes as he could and carried them to the sink beside the open window.

  He had washed about half the batch before Elysia joined to assist. Dovian loved to help cook and clean dishes, but his mind always wandered. Sometimes she’d catch him with soapy water up to his elbows as he stared out the window deep in thought. Other times, he would hold a potato and have conversations with it. It delighted her, but also made their dinner-time cooking last twice as long. As they finished with the washing, Elysia screamed as something flew toward them through the window.

  “BOO!” a young voice shouted.

  “My goodness, boy! You scared the daylights out of me!” Elysia held a hand to her chest.

  Leaning through the open window was another young boy roughly Dovian’s age. He had brown hair and eyes streaked like sandstone. He gave a high-pitched laugh, covering his mouth as he snorted. Dovian giggled too, splashing soapy water at the other boy.

  “Orin! How on earth did you get up here? Get inside before you fall!” Elysia lectured.

  The boy stepped onto the countertop and hopped to the ground, cheering as he landed.

  “I climbed the vine! It’s strong!” The boy flexed his arms. “Like me!”

  “Your mother would faint if she knew what you’d just done. Please use the front door like normal Sorcēarians.” The woman sighed.

  “When I get my wings, I’m never, ever gonna use front doors! I’ll just swoop through all the open windows!” Orin exclaimed. He was a loud and hyper child.

  “And scare all your friends and family no doubt,” Elysia returned.

  “Mama! When do we get our wings?” Dovian asked, drying his hands.

  “Not until you boys hit puberty most likely. Some get them sooner; some get them later.” The woman carried the vegetables back to the cutting table.

  “When will that be?” the silver-haired boy asked.

  “If I had it any other way, I’d say never! But…I can’t stop you from growing up….” The woman paused, staring at the boiling water. “It’s different for everyone. I imagine you two will get them around the same time, and then I will be in for double the amount of trouble.”

  Orin and Dovian both grinned.

  “So, what brings you to my kitchen, Orin?” she asked.

  “I wanted to see if Dovian could play.” The boy reached into a fruit bowl and snatched up a large strawberry. He shoved it into his mouth. “May I have a strawberry?”

  Elysia rolled her eyes. “Usually one asks before they eat the food, but yes, you may have a couple.”

  Orin smiled, revealing tiny seeds stuck in his teeth. He quickly grabbed two more. Dovian followed his actions.

  “And where will your adventures be taking you?” Elysia asked.

  Orin spoke with one cheek full. “My grandfather’s orchard. Dovian’s not seen it yet.”

  Elysia looked toward the sun in the sky. “Boy, that is over a mile away.”

  “Figured we could pick up some rocks and flowers along the way,” Orin explained. “If it takes too long, we’ll just run!”

  “And that is still a far run for a boy your size.” Elysia folded her arms.

  “I’ve not seen it, ma. He says there are apples now. I can bring you back some,” Dovian added.

  Elysia’s eyes brightened. “Apples? Already?” she asked.

  Orin nodded.

  “Well…it is already getting close to dinnertime, Dovian.”

  “Please! Mama! I’ll be good! I’ll just stay a while, long enough to grab you some apples for your pie!” Dovian tugged her long sleeves.

  She let out her held-in breath. “If you go, you won’t be able to cut any carrots.”

  Dovian’s face fell. He eyed the large knife on the countertop and then looked out the window. “Maybe…you can let me cut them next time,” he whispered.

  Elysia chuckled and rubbed the boy’s head. Kneeling, she held his shoulders. “You be careful. That orchard sits directly on a cliffside. Don’t go anywhere near the edge. And I want you back by sundown, you hear me?”

  Dovian nodded. “Yay!” he rambunctiously yelled, turning toward Orin. The two boys jumped a few times.

  “Take that basket with you. Don’t forget my apples!” She pointed to a small wicker basket sitting on a shelf in the corner of the room.

  Dovian ran to the item, snatched it up, and then followed Orin toward the sink. The boys prepared to climb onto the countertop.

  “Naw-ah!” Elysia snapped her fingers. “Out the door! Not the window!”

  Orin and Dovian snickered and darted from the room, screaming all the while. Elysia huffed, blowing a loose curl out of her face. Eyeing the open window, she looked over the side of the building before closing and latching it shut.

  The boys noisily laughed as they ran through the vaulted halls of the marble manor. They passed by Dovian’s bedroom, sped further through the library, and made their way toward the cathedral which would lead them to the expansive ivory bridge suspended above the silver lakes. But first, they had to pass Dovian’s father’s study.

  Dovian slid to a halt, tugging on Orin’s black and white robes. The boy gagged, skipping to a stop beside his friend. He gave Dovian a curious look but quickly realized the situation as th
e silver-haired boy placed a finger to his lips. Carefully, they tiptoed down the hall. Dovian eyed the gap in the door, seeing his father diligently at work, his pen crawling across the parchment of his large book. They had nearly passed the room when the man’s voice called out.

  “Dovian? What are you up to? One does not pass by silently unless they are guilty of something.” His father stopped writing.

  Dovian cringed and paused mid-step. Before he could respond, the door jerked open. Orin and Dovian both gave a shout. Gaius III peered down at them, his expression hard.

  “I should’ve known your accomplice would be Orin,” the man muttered.

  Orin gave a lopsided smirk. He rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Um, afternoon…Gaius, sir.”

  “What adventure are you on?” Gaius questioned. He didn’t look to Orin for answers, but rather, his son.

  “Orin’s grandfather’s home, sir. He wishes to show me the orchard,” Dovian spoke up.

  “But it is a far distance to the orchard.” Gaius folded his arms. “Is it not close to dinnertime?”

  “Mother said it was alright,” Dovian whispered, his head hanging low.

  “And what if I don’t think it’s alright?” the man questioned.

  Orin fidgeted uncomfortably. Of the entire Gaius lineage, Gaius III was the most frightening, but only due to his severe demeanor.

  “Is it not alright?” Dovian mumbled.

  Gaius crouched beside his son. Tilting his head, he matched eyes with the boy. He sighed and ran his hand through Dovian’s hair.

  “Look at you. You’d think I ruined a holiday. Of course, you may go to the orchard…but on one condition.” Gaius lifted a finger.

  Dovian raised his head, nodding slowly.

  “You travel with me. I can get you there far faster, and then you will have more daylight to play with.” Gaius stood, tugging on the inside of his scarlet overcoat. He pulled out a device the size of the palm of his hand.

  “We get to travel with your frequency tuner?!” Orin exclaimed.

  “That’s right. I can get you there in the blink of an eye,” Gaius muttered as he twisted the center dial. “Hold hands. Now.”

  Orin quickly grabbed Dovian’s hand, and Dovian held onto his father’s. Within a split-second, the marble walls and floors disintegrated, fading into a dark world. White orbs and shades of multiple colors spiraled around them. They soon stood outside time, watching the Earth beneath their feet.

  “Wow! Look at that!” Orin lowered to his hands and knees, gawking at the world below.

  Gaius smirked as he caught Dovian’s questioning look. “I come here far too often. It seems I have a habit.”

  “It’s marvelous!” Orin gaped at the planets near and far, his sight pulling in visions that many would have missed.

  “Why do you come here?” Dovian asked.

  Gaius stared at the sun, his face expressionless. “I come here because it is quiet. It allows me to think. It gives me a moment to catch my breath where I otherwise wouldn’t be able to. I reflect on my life. I think of my future.” He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the yellowish-white orb in their solar system. “I think of yours.”

  “Mine?” Dovian asked.

  Gaius turned up one corner of his mouth. Holding out his arm, he pressed a button on his armband. A circle appeared over a small section of Ives. “This is where we should be, correct?”

  Dovian stared. “Yes. That is where the orchard is.”

  “Good. I’ll lower us down there.” Gaius grabbed his tuner once again.

  Orin jumped to his feet, pointing behind Gaius. “Wait! What’s that?”

  The man twisted, looking over his shoulder. “You tell me, Orin. What is it?”

  Orin leaned forward, concentrating on the large spiraling rock. To the others, it was a mere dot on the horizon. “It’s an asteroid.” The boy then watched its trajectory. “Someday it will pass between the Earth and the moon.”

  “That is correct. Keen vision as always,” Gaius approved. “And what do you suppose its effect will be on the planet?”

  Orin pondered a moment before shrugging. Gaius looked to Dovian.

  “It could change Earth’s gravity if it passes too closely, depending on its size,” Dovian suggested.

  “That’s a possibility.” The man nodded. “And what effects would that have on the human race?”

  Orin snickered. “If gravity becomes lighter, then they can stretch out and become taller like us! Maybe they will have noodle arms!”

  Dovian laughed, waving his arms with Orin.

  “An interesting speculation, but it would take a lot to create noodle arms.” Gaius looked toward the planet. “And that asteroid won’t pass for thousands of more years. But, do you see that cloud over there?”

  Orin looked toward a mushrooming cloud far off on a separate continent below.

  “What is that?” the young boy asked.

  “Nuclear testing. Humanity insists on preparing the treacherous weapons despite it being a war crime to use in battle.” Gaius glared at the horizon of the planet. “If they keep it up, they could create adverse effects to the planet. Do you know what that would be?”

  Dovian watched the cloud, his stomach sinking. It was massive. He looked up at his father. The man always turned every situation into a learning opportunity. He expected Dovian to use his best vocabulary and expand his knowledge and outlook on life.

  “They could destroy the planet. The use of the weapons could create adverbs effects–” Dovian halted.

  “Adverse effects,” Gaius corrected.

  Dovian nodded. “Adverse effects to humanity’s ecosystem and water supplies. Radiation could cause physiological and genetic changes.” Looking back to the cloud, Dovian lowered his head. “Why do they do such things?”

  Orin stared at the clouds below, his pupils dilating and constricting as he gathered sights from the planet beneath their feet.

  “Humanity constantly struggles. Not everyone agrees to the warfare that currently plagues the nations. There are others that have no say. They are powerless to those in control,” Gaius explained.

  “They are bad people.” Orin pointed toward the mushroom cloud. “The ones who are testing those weapons.”

  Gaius scoffed. “That is debated by many. It isn’t quite as simple as that. Life is far more complex than good and bad. That is where we come in. We’re the ones who step in before things can get out of hand. We try to keep the balance without fully interfering with the race. Despite what they do, they are still responsible for their actions. It’s the way it must be.” Gaius lifted his tuner again, turning the knob. “But that is a subject to worry about much later in time. For now, we need to gather some apples, yes?”

  The two boys nodded, their smiles reappearing.

  In a flicker, the landscape shifted, and they sank toward the Earth. The clouds blurred past them. The deep blue oceans neared their feet, and soon they were on Ives once again. Gaius clicked his tuner and dropped it back inside his coat. With a burst, they appeared just outside the orchard.

  The man looked to his armband. “Only .36 seconds have passed since we left the study.”

  “So amazing!” Orin exclaimed. “When can I get one of those?”

  Gaius gave the boy a stern look. “When you are old enough to understand how it works and can respect its power.”

  Orin’s shoulders slumped.

  “Young Gaius! Nice to see you popping in!” A slightly older man approached them. He was tall, lean, had royal blue eyes, and long raven hair tied back in multiple braids. His robes were golden and a dark shade of cobalt. Beside him was a boy with matching hair and eye color.

  “Rhondin. A surprise to see you here.” Gaius placed his fist against his chest. Rhondin returned the gesture.

  “You’ve not been called?” Rhondin asked.

  “Called?” Gaius tilted his head. He eyed Dovian and Orin. “Was I to be? I am merely bringing these boys to the orchard for some apples.”
<
br />   Rhondin cupped his hands before his waist. “Your grandfather was to call for you, but I assume you just left your home. No matter at all, everyone is waiting inside.” The man gestured toward Orin’s grandfather’s home.

  “Meeting at Fardon’s?” Gaius gaped at the towering manor.

  “It involves his jurisdiction, so it only makes sense to meet with him,” Rhondin spoke simply.

  “Ah,” Gaius nodded in understanding, “issues in the Middle East again?”

  “Seems so.”

  Gaius gave a tired sigh. “I will join you then.” Finally taking notice of the child beside the other man, he gave a gentle smile. “Your boy?”

  “Yes,” Rhondin nodded. “He grows more each day.”

  “I’ve noticed. Last I’d seen, he was half the size.”

  Rhondin looked to his son. “I was going to drag the poor boy to the meeting with me, but seeing as there are others here….”

  Gaius looked to Orin and Dovian expectantly. “I’m sure Euclid could join in on the adventure.”

  Orin jumped forward. “We’re going to the orchard to pick some apples! Would you like to come?”

  The black-haired boy gave a large, tight-lipped smile and nodded. Slowly, he approached the two boys. He looked back at his father once, and Rhondin laughed, nodding his head.

  “Go ahead, boy. But, please, behave yourself. And stay away from the cliffside!” Rhondin turned with Gaius, smiling at the sound of the three boys laughing as they headed for the trees. “For my sanity,” he added.

  “Got yourself a troublemaker?” Gaius curiously asked.

  Rhondin shook his head. “The poor boy. Ever since his mother passed, he’s not been himself. He’s constantly getting to places he shouldn’t, seeking attention in all the wrong ways. He certainly keeps me on my toes. I found him on the highest peak of our cathedral just yesterday.” The man rubbed his forehead.

  “Whatever for?”

  Rhondin shrugged. “I’ve not been able to answer that myself. He said he was enjoying the view. I’d be lying if I said he doesn’t worry me sometimes.”

  Gaius laughed. “I do remember my father telling me similar stories about myself.”