The Esoteric Design: Civilization Lost
Page 13
“Yes.”
“Then I insist you call me Lanthe for short.” She took the scissors away from Lita.
Dovian smirked. “Lanthe….”
“You’re family to Lita. Lita is like family to me. Only those closest to me call me Lanthe,” she explained.
Orin looked between the two. “So…that means I should call you I’Lanthe then?”
“Yes,” she quickly sputtered.
Orin cringed. “Ouch.”
Lita and I’Lanthe both giggled.
“Oh! I’m joking! You may call me Lanthe as well!” The woman gave a loud cackle this time, a bit uncharacteristic of her usual soft laughter. The sound brought a smile to Dovian’s lips.
“So, what do you think? Mohawk? Shaved? Spiked?” Lita ran her fingers through Dovian’s hair. “Oh! I know! Mullet!”
“No mullet,” Dovian quickly protested. He knew Lita’s American lingo and had watched enough of her favorite movies to know what the style was.
I’Lanthe leaned in close until her face was mere inches away from his. The man’s expression quickly fell into a look of absolute fright.
“No,” I’Lanthe whispered. “I have an idea.”
She ran her fingers through his bangs and organized his side part. Before Dovian could say anything, she snipped a few strands.
“Oh! Starting already!” Dovian sputtered, his hands timidly reaching upwards.
I’Lanthe gave a loud laugh once again. “It’s always best to not overthink. Just dive in!”
Lita snatched up the strands of Dovian’s cut hair, excitedly laughing. “My plan has come to fruition!”
“What plan?” Dovian glared. “Using me as your doll for your Friday night?”
“Of course! Cuz that’s what you do at slumber parties!” Lita laughed. She held Dovian’s hair up to the light. He didn’t pay her much mind. Lita was always curious about everything.
“Slumber party…really. Wait. You are not staying the night.” Dovian tried turning his head to look at his cousin, but I’Lanthe placed her hand on his cheek and gently guided him to face her once again.
Lita glanced back at Dovian and then quickly slipped his hair into a coat pocket before snatching up the bottle of wine once again.
“Speak for yourself, Dovian. It would be a shame to send these ladies home in the rain,” Orin spoke up.
“Yes, that would certainly be terrible!” Lita gasped.
“Lita, you live in the same complex as me,” Dovian grumbled.
“Lanthe doesn’t!”
“It’s okay, Lanthe. I could be your designated driver.” Orin winked.
I’Lanthe merely smiled at Orin’s antics.
“DD?” Lita scoffed. “You mean DF?”
Orin’s eyes widened. “And what, exactly, is DF?”
“Designated flyer!” Lita laughed at her joke.
“Oh, that’s a bad one, Lita.” I’Lanthe couldn’t help but snicker.
The dark-haired woman continued cutting and styling Dovian’s hair. The man nervously chewed on his lip as she worked. Orin surprisingly was entertained by the event. As I’Lanthe cut Dovian’s hair, Orin hazed Lita. Eventually, Lita ended up on his lap, much to Dovian’s dissatisfaction. Orin chuckled and whispered in the young woman’s ear.
“I do believe that there has been a mutiny tonight,” Dovian murmured.
I’Lanthe looked at Lita and Orin from her peripheral. “Hm, love is in the air.”
Dovian watched her. Her lips were a light shade of pink. Her skin wasn’t nearly as pale as his but slightly suntanned. She had long, thin fingers. Her smile was bright. Her violet eyes glistened beneath the dim glow of the light from the lanterns in the corners of the room. Her long eyelashes touched the top of her cheeks when she blinked. Her nose was sharp; her face was tight and angular. To Dovian, I’Lanthe was an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Everything about her screamed of high status and class. She made him incredibly nervous.
“Hm,” I’Lanthe hummed as she backed away.
“What?” Dovian asked.
“Hm.”
He lightly touched his hair.
“No! Don’t!” She grabbed and lowered his hands, pinning them to his sides as she stared at his hair.
Dovian felt scrutinized. “Is it bad?”
I’Lanthe chewed her lip as she ran her fingers through his locks. She hummed a few more times and then gave a low, agitated growl.
“Your hair has a mind of its own!” she howled.
She ran both hands through his hair, messing it in every direction, and let the strands settle. She then played with his bangs before taking another step back.
“Hm.”
“Every time you make that noise, I worry more.” He frowned.
I’Lanthe smiled and clasped her hands. “Perfect!”
Orin and Lita both looked at Dovian.
“Wow! That actually looks really good!” Lita praised.
Orin nodded slowly. “I’ll admit, I wanted to make fun of you Dovian, but that style suits you. It’s messy, modern, cool.”
“Messy, I can attest to. Modern and cool…I’ve never been associated with those words.” Dovian stood and quickly made his way to the mirror.
“Oh, yeah! The humans would totally love it!” Lita nodded.
I’Lanthe giggled nervously. “I was trying for a faux hawk, but it wasn’t looking right, so I just kept going until it looked more fitting.”
Dovian looked back at the girl. She blushed. “That’s reassuring,” he said with a laugh.
Staring at his reflection, he ran his hand through his hair. He agreed; the haircut did look good.
“Well?” I’Lanthe asked.
Dovian faced the woman. “Well…” he hesitated.
Her expression fell into a look of dread as Dovian remained silent for far too long.
He grinned. “You’re officially my hairdresser!”
“So, you like it?!” she asked with a hop.
Dovian nodded.
I’Lanthe giggled and jumped toward Dovian, her arms wrapping around him in a tight hug. The man locked up for a second before he gave into the casual embrace.
“Lanthe is very touchy-feely when she drinks,” Lita whispered with a wink.
“Sorry!” The woman quickly detached herself. “Where are my manners?”
“Quite alright,” Dovian said.
“Ah! You know what we need?” Lita shouted. “Music!”
Orin lifted his armband, pleased by Lita’s suggestion. “I’ve got just the thing.”
With a few clicks of his band, Orin had music blaring throughout the room. It was human-created which often played in the nightclubs. Dovian didn’t venture outside of Ives very often when not on missions. However, Orin and Lita loved the company of humans. They and many other Sorcēarians would don human clothing and bar hop during the weekends. Now and then, Dovian was drug from the confines of his bedroom and forced to socialize. Tonight, however, there was no escape as the socializing took place inside his bedroom.
“You know these tunes?” Dovian asked I’Lanthe.
“Tunes? Yes, a few of them. I travel with Lita sometimes,” I’Lanthe said. She nearly had to yell over the music.
“I have to admit; you surprise me every day.” Dovian rubbed the back of his neck.
“Oh, you’ve barely scratched the surface!” She lifted an eyebrow.
Dovian sighed, realizing there was no avoiding the woman’s flirtations.
The rest of the night was spent dancing, joking, and yelling. It was certainly not how Dovian had planned his evening. Despite usually favoring solitude over partying and small talk, he was having a good time. But one thing bothered him. He still had to speak with I’Lanthe about her speech. He couldn’t get her words out of his head, and he still wasn’t feeling quite like himself. Their current personal encounter only made things more difficult. He wasn’t a fool. I’Lanthe certainly was up to something. He just had to figure out what it was and stop it before it got out of hand. In the meantime,
he allowed himself a chance to have fun with Orin and the girls.
As the night came to a close, Dovian pulled Orin to the side. Their guests were well on their way to Lita’s quarters, giving Dovian a moment to ask his friend one question that had been plaguing him the entire night.
“What is with you?” Orin gruffly asked.
“I need you to read me,” Dovian quickly spouted.
“What? Read…read you? Why?”
“Just to see if I’m under the influence of any spells.”
Orin grinned. He didn’t say anything as he scanned Dovian’s body with his sight. After a moment, he chuckled and patted the man on the shoulder.
“No. The only thing you’re under the influence of is good wine and beautiful women.” He winked. “Try not to overthink things, Dovian.”
Dovian nodded, feeling a bit flustered. He waved goodnight to Orin, shutting the door behind him. He felt dizzy but not necessarily from the wine. Dovian still wasn’t convinced. I’Lanthe had done something. He was going to figure out exactly what was going on. For now, he needed some sleep. He’d push the thoughts away until class on Monday.
"Gathering Light"
Chapter 7
Monday morning came all too quickly. The rain hadn’t settled much over the weekend but had at least slowed to a calm drizzle. Fog rolled over the mountainside, swirling toward the city over the silver lakes. The mist parted ways as it attempted to engulf the massive bridge in the center of the land. A giant cross decorated the arch of the walkway, the fog streaming around it where the light splayed like a beacon. It was a still morning, smothering Ives with a foreboding sense of warning. Some would think it to be a calm day, but the thick air didn’t feel quite right. Dovian noticed it as soon as he awoke and fought to maintain his typical peace with the weather.
The conditions did nothing for his sluggish disposition. He swayed with the breeze, moving nearly as slow as the fog from class to class. He sensed it within his warriors, a type of unease. Whether it was the weather making them all lethargic, or if they shared the same feelings as he, was unknown. Dovian went easy on his students, even dismissing them a bit earlier than usual.
Trudging to his genetics course, he found that Lita was especially cheerful. He eyed her workstation and found, much to his surprise, that the girl had arrived early and already had her lizard recipe complete. Her vivid eyes stared adoringly upon the tan-spotted egg inside her incubation chamber. She cooed and whispered to her creation. Dovian eyed her suspiciously.
“You arrive early on a Monday morning, happy, and already with an egg. Are you feeling well?” he asked.
Lita gave a toothy grin. “I was too excited to wait!”
Dovian plopped into the chair beside hers. His skeptical gaze wafted from the young woman to her egg. Reaching into his coat pocket, he retrieved his optical viewer.
“You look pleased…” he murmured.
“Just a good feeling I guess,” Lita chimed.
Dovian gave one firm nod as he grunted. As he flicked on his optical device, his vision lit up with intense light. Dovian leaned back, squinting. Lita’s egg shined with an astounding gold aura. Not a flicker, not a round orb, but a pulsing, swirling ball of light that produced its own rays. It was unnatural. Dovian quickly looked to his cousin out of his peripheral.
“What did you do, Lita?”
She shrugged. “I followed your recipe.”
“And what did you do differently this time?”
“I concentrated on utilizing my light.”
Dovian dropped his posture in exasperation. “Lita,” he pointed at the egg, “that is not normal. There has never been an egg with that much light.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” she asked.
Dovian’s brow wrinkled. “You did something….”
“What?!” she snarled. “I finally have an egg with life contained inside of it, and you’re mad?! I can’t win!”
Dovian scowled. “I don’t believe it’s possible for you to have failed so many times, without an inkling of any light, no signs of life whatsoever, and suddenly you have an egg glowing as bright as the sun.”
Lita folded her arms and lifted her nose into the air. “Where’s your faith, Dovian? Stranger things have happened! I meditated all weekend to generate that light.”
Dovian studied the egg again with his optics. The shuffling of robes and the chatter of his students broke his concentration. Dovian abruptly stood and pocketed his viewer.
“You had better pray that egg hatch, Lita. If it turns out to be something other than a standard lizard, you’re in trouble,” he spoke behind his teeth.
Lita wrinkled her nose. Dovian leaned forward and poked her forehead, giving her an icy glare. Then he spun, his cape flowing behind him as he trailed to the front of his class.
The remainder of the period went like it did any other day. The students doted on their baby reptiles. None of the infants had perished over the weekend. As the excitable classmates went about tending to their creatures during their latest biology lesson, Lita stared at her egg, entranced by it. She never made a sound or said a word. As the time passed, Dovian began to feel a bit guilty for not having been proud of her. Perhaps he doubted Lita too much. She wasn’t stupid by any means but was very intelligent, almost too crafty. It was because of this that he suspected foul play. Perhaps she really did work exceptionally hard at generating light for her project. She had begged for another chance, and this was her final opportunity to pass the class and gain her father’s approval for her efforts.
As the period ended, Dovian motioned toward the girl. Her green eyes were glowing, her pupils nearly nonexistent as she watched the incubator. Dovian lightly touched her shoulder.
“You’ve not moved nor said a word. You have to go to your next class,” he softly spoke.
“I’m not leaving him,” she whispered.
“How do you know it’s a boy?”
“I just know.”
“Come, Lita. We both can’t be late.”
“I don’t want to leave! What if something….” She chewed on her lower lip, tears wetting her eyes.
Dovian sighed. “Listen, Lita. I apologize for doubting you earlier. I know you’ve put a lot of time and effort into creating your lizards. Take my word for it; nothing is going to happen to your egg while you are gone.”
She looked at him with expectation.
“I’ve not seen an egg shine like that in all my days. I would be most perplexed if it didn’t hatch. But then again, you’ve stumped me before.”
“Do you really think he’ll be okay?”
Dovian peered at the shell. “Yes. I think he will.”
The smile that etched its way across her porcelain face made Dovian grin.
“Come on. He’ll be safe here. You can stare at him throughout class tomorrow.” He tugged on her sleeve.
Lita finally moved from her chair, shouldering her bag. Motioning her fingers to her lips, she blew the egg a kiss and then gave a squeal.
“I’m going to have a lizard!” she cheered.
“Finally,” Dovian sputtered.
Lita gave him a quick punch in the arm.
They traversed to the literary course. Dovian leisurely moved as Lita danced and twirled, the fog swirling around her like a haunting partner. She hummed to herself, lifting her face to the sky as the drizzle wetted her hair and eyelids. She was in an extraordinarily good mood. However, as they neared the art buildings, she stumbled and locked into place.
“What is it?” Dovian asked.
The girl’s face hardened. She stood rigidly in the fog, not acknowledging the man. She was listening, recalling something. Dovian had seen that look before. Peering to the left, she shivered, her sight lost on the horizon.
“Déjà vu,” she anxiously whispered.
Dovian’s hair stood on end as he felt an electric current tingle throughout his body. “Good or bad?” he asked despite knowing the answer.
Lita spun, letting out
a shuddering breath, smoke ghosting past her lips. “Bad.” Her tone was low, slightly frightened.
“Emergency?”
“I’m unsure.” She trembled as her lips turned a shade of blue.
“Lita?” He became concerned and lightly touched her.
It was slightly cooler this day, but not so chill to draw a cloudy breath. Lita’s premonition was pulling her to a different place, perhaps another person’s life-force. It could be anyone—a human, a Sorcēarian, possibly even an animal.
The woman gave a quick intake of breath, her glassy eyes sparkling to their usual shade, her lips and cheeks reddening.
“Who?” he asked.
Lita shook her head. “I…I don’t know. I can’t remember. I’ve dreamt this before–the fog, me being happy and dancing, and you at my side. Then, I saw it.” She pointed toward the cross on the bridge off in the distance. “The way the fog is moving. I saw it in my dreams.”
“No visions of the person?” Dovian asked. He stared at the bridge. He also felt the strange warning.
Lita shook her head. “I can’t tell who it is. There’s too much dust. But…I feel like I know them.”
Dovian frowned.
“Mom and Dad are both at home,” she quickly said, easing Dovian’s immediate worries. “I can’t think of anyone right now who would be in danger.”
“Are you positive of your feelings right now? Is your premonition a negative one?” Dovian watched her face.
“I can’t make out who it is, but I can hear them, Dovian,” she whispered. A look of sorrow and fright covered her features.
“What are they saying?”
“They aren’t saying anything.” Slowly lifting her gaze to his, she swallowed hard. “It’s a horrible choking sound.”
Dovian quickly wrapped his arm protectively around her and guided her toward the school.
“Let’s not worry about it. Can you feel or see anything right now?”
She shook her head.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I will be in a minute. It just takes a bit to get out of that mood,” she mumbled.
Dovian lightly kissed the side of her head. “Okay. Let’s get to class before we’re late. I’ll have Martelle read a poem about baby rabbits if you’d like.”