by A. R. Crebs
Gaius III looked to the Elder with a pained expression. "You've taken his power away from him?"
"I've only limited it, to keep others safe. Dovian has powerful light energy, but his dark energy knows no bounds. This is the safest option until he can learn to manage it. Without it, he could pose a threat to everyone and himself."
"My poor boy. He's lost his mother and his full power in a single day. What more could happen to him?" He frowned.
"If I had it any way, none of this would have happened," Sir Gaius solemnly stated.
Gaius III scoffed a laugh. "The mistakes we realize only after they've been made. At what cost? Shall we ever be cautious?"
Sir Gaius eyed Dovian. Looking at Euclid, catching the boy's glare, his face fell into a scowl. "From now on, I will be."
"Too Late"
Chapter 4
4,100 S.F.
Dovian awoke with a start, his chest heaving, sweat beading on his brow. It had been the thirteen hundredth time he dreamt of his mother. Though he was not present during the event, his mind was eager to show him images of her death, each time slightly different. Sometimes, he was on the battlefield with her, desperately trying to rescue her. Other times, he was in her place, her looking down at him with sorrow. Regardless of the number of years since her death, his memories of his mother were as clear as they had been when they occurred. Not a day passed that he didn’t think of her. Guilt rotted his insides. He was born weak. His mother had sacrificed her life-force to save him. Because of this, her powers had greatly dwindled. And though Sir Gaius had often reminded him that it was not his fault but her own doing, Dovian couldn’t help but blame his existence for her demise. Even when he was reassured countless times by family and friends, Dovian’s father had not once done the same to encourage the boy. In fact, he was silent on the matter. If ever the subject arose, Dovian’s father quickly turned his attention elsewhere. Even if the great Elder Gaius and Elysia herself would never blame him, it was clear to Dovian that his father did, or at least was tempted by the idea.
Dovian ran a hand through his hair, puffing his cheeks as he blew out a breath and looked out the bedside window. It was later than he had anticipated. A quick nudge on the elbow alerted him of the lizard that lay on the floor. Dovian quickly shifted his gaze to the creature.
“Ah, did I wake you, Hector?” Dovian asked with a deep morning voice.
The frilled monitor struggled to maintain his balance as he stood with his front legs on Dovian’s mattress, his hind legs and tail balancing him in his bed of blankets upon the marble floor. Hector lifted his nose, his tongue flickering toward his owner’s face. Dovian smiled and traced his fingers along the lizard’s neck. Hector gently tilted his head to the side, allowing the man to scratch behind his fringe.
“I do suppose it’s time for breakfast, isn’t it?” Dovian stretched, groaning loudly.
Hector wasted no time, rushing to the corner of the room, his feet stamping excitedly against the stone floor. Dovian arose, his white sheet slipping from his bare torso haphazardly onto the floor. He didn’t bother making his bed. Digging through a nightstand drawer, Dovian withdrew a piece of jerky wrapped in parchment. He eyed Hector warily. The lizard hissed, his tongue flickering wildly.
“Stand,” Dovian commanded.
Hector did as told, pushing with his stubby front legs to stand on his back two. Dovian grinned.
“Good form! Now…sit.”
Hector performed the next pose.
“Lie down.”
Hector easily performed the command as it was one of his favorite positions.
“Roll over.”
The lizard struggled a bit, rolling onto his backside and flopping back and forth until he rotated fully back onto his legs.
Dovian chuckled. “Speak.”
Hector quickly yapped, moving from side to side. He became excited as he usually received his snack after such a command. Instead, Dovian raised a finger, and the creature protested with a snort.
“Play…dead.”
Hector cocked his small head, his golden eyes blinking in question. Dovian waited. As if understanding the reptile’s confusion, he looked to the parchment-covered treat and shook it. Hector’s eyes shifted to the item.
“Actually, this isn’t jerky. It’s broccoli!”
Hector hopped to his back feet, making an audible groan, and plopped heavily onto his backside, moaning some more. Dovian gave a hearty laugh.
“Close enough!”
Ripping open the package, Dovian held out a thick piece of dried meat. Hector’s tongue waved as he smelled the air. Quickly, the lizard returned to an upright position. Dovian tossed the food, and Hector gratefully clamped and slobbered all over the jerky, his fringe flowing outwards as he attacked. The man smiled and moved toward the closet.
Battle training was his first class. Eyeing his clothing, Dovian quickly selected his usual Scarlet overcoat and charcoal robes. Slipping on the items, he clasped the low hanging sleeves tightly around his wrists. Next, he snatched up his leather gloves and tucked the items inside his coat for later use. The man eyed his reflection in a tall mirror, fiddling with his unruly silver bangs. Tilting his head, a flicker of gold shimmered throughout his hair, and a halo of light radiated against the sunbeam that poured through the window.
Yawning, he shouldered his knapsack, grabbed a piece of candy from the nightstand, and headed for the door, pausing a moment to snap his fingers. His staff slid across the room into his palm. With a few quick movements, Dovian had the item condensed to nothing more than a shimmering blue orb with metallic wings. He dropped the weapon into his bag and left his room, mumbling a goodbye to Hector.
Dovian made it not more than a few steps outside his bedroom before a loud shout caused him to jump.
“DOVIAN!” a high-pitched voice called out.
The male Sorcēarian flinched, waiting for impact as the young woman pounced onto his back. He groaned, catching her legs and flinging her slightly upward to get a better hold on her.
“Good morning, Lita. Loud as usual,” he mumbled.
Lita wrapped her arms around his neck. Dovian eyed her sideways. She grinned ear to ear, her long lavender hair flowing over one shoulder. The sunlight revealed hints of silver in her tresses and caught the glimmer of her jade eyes. Her small giggle delighted him regardless of her boisterous greeting. The man kept up his pace, walking down the halls while giving her a piggyback ride.
Lita was the daughter of Gaius II and Cyerys, the sister of Dovian’s mother. Because of this, Lita was technically his aunt and half-sister to his father, Gaius III. Being nearly five hundred years younger than Dovian, Lita was titled as his cousin instead, and the two formed an incredibly close bond.
Lita was the only thing to break Dovian out of his constant depression since his mother’s death. The day he first laid eyes on her, his heart swelled. With the color of her hair and eyes, she reminded him of Elysia. Dovian and Lita quickly became inseparable. He taught her to speak, how to walk, and was the first one to make her laugh. Despite being Gaius III’s younger sister, Lita and Dovian’s father rarely did anything together outside of family festivities. She instead looked to Dovian for her sibling-like interactions. Lita didn’t mind the fact that she wasn’t close to her half-brother. She understood the vast difference in age created strange relationships among the Sorcēarian race. Despite being father and son, Gaius II and III held a more brotherly relationship whereas Gaius III and Dovian were strictly father and son. Their connection was often tense and more restrained. However, Dovian also didn’t mind. As long as he had Lita nearby, he had the majority of his social needs fulfilled. Besides, Dovian wasn’t the most public of Sorcēarians. His history and back apparatus wasn’t much help in that matter either.
“Mom made pancakes. There’s more than enough. You coming?” Lita asked. For whatever reason, she loved the American people. Because of this, she used an Americanized accent and often didn’t speak proper enough for her statu
s, much to her father’s annoyance.
Dovian grinned. “If there are pancakes, then I cannot refuse.”
Lita gave a pleased laugh.
As Dovian neared his father’s study, he warily eyed the cracked door. As expected, the door swung open just as he and Lita passed by. Dovian turned back toward the study, Lita’s legs swinging as he did so. Gaius III and Dovian stared at one another a moment. His father always did this with him. It made Dovian feel uneasy.
“Good morning,” Dovian muttered.
“Morning,” his father returned in a matching tone.
Gaius III then looked to Lita. As always, her mouth set in a broad grin. He gave her a haphazard smirk in greeting.
“And what trouble are you up to?” the older man asked.
“It’s too early for trouble,” Lita cheerfully stated. “Trouble starts immediately after breakfast. Are you coming? Mom made pancakes.”
Gaius III inwardly cringed. Lita calling Cyerys mom was strange to him. Cyerys was both his sister-in-law and stepmother. His biological mother had died long before Dovian was born. Since he and Cyerys were nearly the same age, her marrying his father felt a bit odd. However, since Sorcēarians lived so long, age made little difference when it came to relationships. Dovian, for example, was over a thousand years of age but appeared to be in his twenties based on humanity’s appearance. Then, Gaius realized how old he was and shook his head. There were far too many memories in his mind. They were beginning to cloud his concentration.
“Uh, no. I have lots of work to do today. In fact, I’m late for my meeting.” The older man looked at his wristband. “Maybe another time.”
With that, he strolled past them toward the front of the grand hall. Lita and Dovian both frowned. Gaius III was never late to a meeting. He was just a liar.
“He’s such a grumpy pants,” Lita grumbled.
Dovian hummed a laugh. “You seem surprised by this.”
“But does he always have to be?”
“I can’t imagine a day where he wasn’t. I suppose he enjoys dwelling on the pity of his past.” His words sounded a bit vindictive, but Lita merely laughed.
“He’s grumpy because he never eats breakfast,” she whispered as if it were a deep, dark secret.
“Ah, that must be it.”
Together they continued through the halls, heading for the back side of the grand mansion where Lita and her family resided. The Gaius estate was so vast that despite them all occupying the home, the Gaius family rarely ran into each other unless an individual was sought out. Lita, however, always knew where Dovian was. In fact, her senses were sometimes unnerving to the man.
As they entered Cyerys’ kitchen, the smell of pancakes and syrup invaded Dovian’s nostrils. He took a deep breath, momentarily thinking of all the times his mother made him the same for breakfast. Lita hopped off his back, skipping to her mother to kiss her cheek. She then took a seat at the table.
“Did you use Dovian as your mule again?” Cyerys asked.
Dovian smirked, kissing Cyerys as well. “Morning, auntie-grandma.”
Cyerys smirked at her given title. When Dovian was a small child, he could not decide on what to call the woman. Finally, he settled it by calling her a combination of both aunt and grandma, and it stuck.
“Hope you’re hungry. I made extra.” The woman set a large platter onto the center of the table. Glasses of assorted juices were already out along with small bowls of eggs. Dovian eyed the food gratefully. Cyerys was as good at cooking as his mother, and he always looked forward to being spoiled by her. The woman was a comfort to him. Having been sisters, Cyerys and Elysia shared similar expressions, laughs, and a few skills. Cyerys loved to baby Dovian. Likewise, he appreciated her motherly attempts to make him feel whole again.
“You know me, always hungry,” Dovian said with a smile.
Lita poked his stomach with her fork. “Careful, wouldn’t want to get fat,” she teased.
Dovian peered at her from the corner of his eye as he ate half a large pancake in one bite. Lita gasped as if to scold him.
“Good thing Sorcēarians aren’t known to get fat.” Gaius II bellowed as he shuffled into the kitchen, dodging his wife as she placed a plate of bacon. “High metabolisms!” He gave a boisterous laugh, shaking his belly.
Gaius II, in contrast to Dovian’s father, was an animated and joyous individual. Dovian and Lita locked gazes.
“It’s because he eats breakfast every day,” she whispered. Dovian snickered.
“No young Gaius this morning?” The large man eyed one of the empty chairs.
“No!” Lita scoffed. “He’s got work to do,” she said in a mocking tone.
Gaius II looked slightly disappointed but quickly shrugged it off as he took his seat. “Boy was never much of an eater. It’s why he’s so scrawny.” After a pause, the man nodded. “Except for sweets. He’s got a sinful sweet tooth.”
Cyerys sat at the table beside her husband. She watched him slather his pancakes in butter and an excess of syrup. “And I wonder where he gets it from.” Then she eyed Dovian. He had a pancake swimming in the sticky substance. “It appears to run in the family.”
Lita wrinkled her nose in disgust but then poured extra syrup on her own. Cyerys sighed in annoyance at her child. It didn’t matter if she liked it or hated it, whatever Dovian did, Lita made sure to do the same.
“And my father as well!” Gaius II laughed as he licked his fingers. After adding his eggs to his messy plate and taking a few bites, the large man pointed at Dovian with his fork. “How are your lessons going?”
Dovian swallowed his mouthful and took a swig of juice. “Hm. Very well so far. It’s still early in the semester, but my students seem to be catching on rather quickly.”
“No troublemakers?”
“Well, there are two.” Dovian nodded.
Gaius II rolled his eyes. “They always come in pairs.”
“One was showing off, like always. He persuaded his friend to summon an amount of energy far stronger than he could maintain. He believed he could block his friend’s power, no matter how strong. I’m sure you can guess what happened,” Dovian explained, his face falling.
“How many got hurt?” The burly man asked.
“Luckily, just the two. I think they learned their lesson, though. If I hadn’t been there, they might have been badly injured. One almost lost a hand.” Dovian stole another pancake from the center platter.
Lita shook her head. “What idiots. If I were there, I would have—”
“Would have done nothing.” Gaius frowned at his daughter.
Lita glared; it was her nastiest look.
“That! That’s the look I’m talking about! Where did she learn to hate so much?!” he protested to his wife.
Dovian tried to hide his smile behind the back of his hand.
Cyerys eyed Lita with a look of warning. “I’ve no idea where she learned that look.”
“I know where she gets it. She gets it from you,” the man replied. Lita opened her mouth to speak, but her father spoke first. “And no, you’re not going to train with Dovian. You’ve got too many studies.”
“But I’ve studied enough! I want to learn to fight!” Lita protested.
“You are not meant to be in the warrior class! You are of Emerald status like your mother. You need to study, to learn about music, and be proficient in art and literature. You’re far too tiny and cute to be Scarlet,” her father scolded. “Your brother agrees with me.”
Lita folded her arms, her mouth twisting.
“It is for your own good, Lita!” he sighed. Only in times of arguing with Lita did the older man seem distressed, and Dovian had seen him handle a dozen men at once.
“When can I decide what’s good for me? If I want to fight, I’m going to fight!” the girl argued.
“Lita, it’s too early for this. Your father hasn’t a single gold hair left on his head. We can talk about this later,” Cyerys chimed in.
Lita g
rit her teeth and looked to Dovian. “Well, Dovian says I’d make a fine warrior!”
Dovian nearly choked on his food. He swallowed hard, giving Lita a wide-eyed stare. “I, uh, what? I didn’t say….” He gave Lita an expression of demanding silence, but the girl smirked mischievously. He looked to Cyerys who smiled and then to Gaius II who gave him a smoldering glare. “Uh, yes. Far too little and cute,” Dovian added.
Lita’s eyes set aflame as she growled in irritation. “Oh! You…fiend!” Pointing an accusatory finger at the young man, she shouted, “Says the smallest warrior of Scarlet status!”
Dovian evenly returned the girl’s nasty scowl. “Careful, little bug,” he grumbled.
Lita continued sulking. With a huff, she added more syrup to her food. Cyerys reached over and snatched the porcelain pitcher from her hands.
"Dear child, it's meant as an addition to the meal, not the main course,” her mother sighed.
Lita swirled the syrup with her butter and rested her chin in her other hand. Dovian’s fork clattering on his plate made her twitch. He had finished his entire meal and had seconds before she even took one bite.
“How do you manage to eat so much so fast?” Lita asked.
Dovian grinned at her and patted her head. “I'm a growing man and warrior! I need my strength!” He quickly stood from his chair, awaiting the girl’s wrath.
Lita growled, flinging her fork toward the young man, syrup flying. A few droplets spattered the edges of his robes, but Dovian didn’t much care. The look on her face was worth it.
“Lita!” Cyerys scolded but couldn’t help but giggle.
Gaius reached over and stole one of Lita’s pancakes, causing her to protest once again.
Dovian laughed and gathered his things. He firmly planted his fist against his chest and bowed to Cyerys and Gaius both.
“My thanks for breakfast. As delicious as ever.” He pointed to Lita. “And I demand that you behave yourself today.”
Lita waved her hand dismissively. “Be gone, traitor!”