by A. R. Crebs
I’Lanthe awoke a short while later on the sofa, nude. As she raised her head, the soft blanket slid down her bare shoulders. Her long curls draped over half of her face. Purple eyes searched the room. Folded upon a nearby chair was her clothing. On the back of the couch lay a silken bathrobe. A freshly brewed pot of tea sat on the table beside her. I’Lanthe hummed as she stretched. Covering with the glossy robe, she tiptoed into the kitchen. From the window, she saw Dovian meditating at the top of the hill, the colors of approaching night circling his silhouette. With a relaxed sigh, she sipped from her mug and decided she may as well get some reading done.
The sunset was a pulsating glow of orange that meshed with the dark purples along the horizon, a gradating wash of colors from pink to yellow glistening against the slapping waves of the faraway silvery lakes and brushing blades of grass. The wind whirled across the plains. An assortment of leaves and flower petals weightlessly danced through the air. The sweet smell from the surrounding fields mixed with that of the crisp, cool scent carried in the spring humidity. There was yet another possibility of rain later in the night, but the current breeze was fine and refreshing rather than warm and sticky like in the summer months. It was a comforting, soothing scene that helped Dovian with his meditations.
Running his fingers through the damp grass surrounding him, Dovian sat with his legs folded and watched the lowering sun with casual interest. A low, deep breath passed through his nostrils as he thought particularly about nothing. He didn’t want to worry about a thing. He simply desired to exist, be a part of the world during its time of peace and serenity. With the sunset, he wished to be a part of the calming departure of the day into night.
He closed his eyes, letting out another deep breath. Then, he heard it, the shuffling of robes against the lawn—light footsteps that were quick and short in nature. The foot displacement, the slight swagger with each step, he could identify the person without ever having to look back just by the sound of her feet against the ground. Only, this wasn’t a typical visit. There was a hesitation and slight pause before the movement continued toward him. Then, he jutted forward as the body plopped against his back, arms wrapping around his torso, chin resting on his shoulder.
“What’s the matter, Lita?” he asked, never opening his eyes. “Can’t sleep?”
She remained silent. It was a rare behavior.
“Lita?” he pressed again, using a bit more authority in his voice.
“Nothing,” she quickly emitted. Her voice was quiet even when next to his ear. Where was her cheerful voice? She almost sounded foreign, not using her Americanized tone as she often did.
“Come.” Dovian opened his eyes. He cocked his head to the side, looking at the girl’s face that was so close to his. He raised his palms, arms outstretched.
Lita faltered, gauging him a moment. Giving a soft sigh, she stood and took two wide strides around him, standing to gaze at the horizon for only a short moment before dropping back into a seated position. Dovian shifted with her, placing his legs on either side of her form. He held her, and she leaned back against his chest.
“What’s the matter?” he asked again, his voice barely a whisper.
Lita shrugged—a casual gesture that told him more than he needed to know. She was certainly depressed.
“Karter?” Dovian asked.
“Erm.” She made a short grunt, shaking her head.
When Lita got into these moods, it was nearly impossible to get her to talk, which was odd for someone with such a boisterous personality.
“Petey?” he asked.
“Erm.” She squeaked. Dovian read it as, ‘No, not that, but thanks for reminding me.’
“Then what? I’m not going to sit here all night guessing.” He ran a hand through her messy curls. “You haven’t even done your hair today.”
Lita watched the sunset, the orange glow bouncing against her green irises. Dovian gave her some silence, combing his fingers through her tresses. The woman leaned forward, allowing him a better grasp on her hair. Without her having to ask, he gathered a few tendrils on the left side of her head, effortlessly braiding them. He looked over the top of her, watching the sun sink behind the hills. Though he was interrupted from his meditations, he remained in a peaceful state.
Reaching for a flower, he plucked it and twisted the stem, tying it at the end of the braid he had just made. He tossed the hair over Lita’s shoulder, the braid smacking against her face. He smiled when he heard her snort a little laugh.
“I’ll soon be going to bed again anyway,” she finally spoke.
“Then you can sleep with wildflowers in your hair. You did it all the time when you were little,” Dovian replied in a low tone. He reached for the hair on the right side, quickly making another thin braid. Once finished, he tied it off with a flower like the first. After being tossed, the braid tapped Lita’s nose. Dovian muttered, “Finished.”
Lita leaned back again, and he embraced her. She hadn’t been this cuddly in many years. Honestly, it worried him.
“Are you going to speak to me, or did you just come here to watch the sunset?” he asked, the rumble in his chest vibrating against her back.
“I’m worried,” she uttered with an empty tone.
“About?”
“The future.”
“Worrying about things you can’t control?”
Lita shook her head. “I just have a bad feeling, Dovian.” She finally looked over her shoulder, and he tensed beneath her radiant gaze. She was on the verge of tears. “I fear war will be upon us soon.”
Dovian sat a little straighter. “What are you talking about, Lita?”
“I…I just have a bad feeling.” She closed her eyes. “I’ve been having dreams.”
Dovian understood what she meant. If the premonitions were enough to set her off this bad, then he knew he should take her seriously. Besides, he had been having dreams, too.
“I know you’ve had them.” Lita looked at him again. “It shows on your face….”
There was never a way to keep secrets from Lita. She could read every expression, wrinkle, and pupil reaction Dovian had. The older she got, the stronger their connection became. Dovian only wished it wasn’t one-sided.
“They are only dreams, Lita.” He tried to coerce her out of her slump.
“You know they are more, Dovian. You know it,” she said, twisting in his lap. Her eyes brimmed with tears.
“Lita.” He was at a loss for what to do. Usually, it was he that was the disheartened one.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Dovian lowered his head as he hugged her tightly. “I’m not going anywhere, Lita. I’m never leaving.”
He was completely baffled by her behavior. It had to have been the stress over losing Petey so abruptly. To make matters worse, Lita had tried to visit the lizard many times since his abandonment, and Petey never reappeared. The only comfort Lita had was Dovian’s admission that he could sense the beast lingering in the caves somewhere, alive and well.
Lita began to say something but then halted and simply shook her head and gave a small whimper.
Dovian continued holding her, letting her have her peace and quiet. Now the sun was gone, the sky a dark shade of blue. Slowly, the stars lit up the sky. Eventually, the moon rested high, bursting with white light, the beams reflecting off the dark clouds of the new approaching storm. He would hold her until she fell asleep, then he would return her to her room. Like all the other times before, Lita would wake in the morning with nothing but thoughts of pancakes and bacon on her mind. And now, at the mere thought of it, that was all that was on Dovian’s mind.
***
Lita stood among grassy fields. A dull rumble shook her body; black clouds rolled deep within the valleys, fog stretching across the lakes like reaching fingers. She realized the ground was shaking. Not an earthquake, but the beating of thousands of feet upon the soft muddy soil. Armor of gold covered her bo
dy. Thick leather and chains held pieces of her green robes and breastplate together. As she watched, a large helmet shifted on her head, further tangling her dusty hair. Her jade eyes glowed as she focused on the horizon. Armored vehicles sat side by side, the fronts lined by soldiers from many nations. She recognized the landscape and tried to slow her panicked breaths. She was on Ives.
‘No, it’s just a dream,’ her mind repeated.
In the distance, an ominous war call of a thousand horns blared. Lita jumped at the sound; goosebumps covered her skin. She spun, looking in the opposite direction toward the city. The land was full, as far as she could see, with Sorcēarian soldiers—all armed, all prepared for battle. Sorcēarians never readied to kill humanity, not unless necessary, but now there was a threatening blaze in the eyes of the angelic race. Something told her that there was no holding back this time. Lita shivered as her body became weighted down by the sudden rain, her boots sinking into the mud. More horns sounded, and the opposite end screamed. That was when Lita recognized armed Sorcēarians in the middle, their forms soiled with a dark inky substance.
It wasn’t just humans versus Sorcēarians, but her race was divided. One line stood for humanity. Another, against it. In a sequence, a battle broke out. Lita’s mind flashed with images of humans killing Sorcēarians, Sorcēarians brutally annihilating humans. Some images were even more shocking—Sorcēarians killing their own kind. As a Sorcēarian, one of the worst crimes was to go against your own. They knew better. They had a higher understanding of what was needed and expected of this world. These actions were appalling, and Lita suddenly felt sick.
At the head of the lines for humanity—those against the Sorcēarians—stood Euclid. His large smile and pointed sparkling eyes told Lita all she needed to know. He was a cold-blooded killer, and he was going to enjoy annihilating everyone. But for him to stand with humanity was unheard of. No, Euclid was going to destroy the human race. Lita blinked, her head pounding as scenes flew at light speed through her mind. She couldn’t keep up—humans occupying bars, strippers in nightclubs, arguments among the races, thunderous booms of warfare, Euclid killing humans and Sorcēarians alike, Karter and the others fighting and struggling. With each flash, her body jerked. As the fights commenced, the land around her crackled and dried to nothing more than hot desert.
Lita recognized the caves in the background. The landscape of rocky caverns pulled her in until she was swallowed by the darkness of one opening. Within the black was the spiraling light of teleportation and the rich sound of Euclid’s laughter. After a couple of lightning bursts within the darkness, she dropped in the center of a flat desert landscape sans the caves. The sounds of war broke out once again—screaming, booming, and a strange shrieking that didn’t sound natural. Lita looked around, her eyes blurry from the fast-paced warfare and a dusty unknown land. Among the powdery billows were battling figures. Strange jittery forms moved along the battlefield, but she couldn’t make out who or what they were.
A horrendous crumble nearly ruptured her eardrums as projectiles and strange laser-like beams of electricity took to the sky and crashed on the land, blowing massive holes into the earth. Vehicles and people alike flew in pieces through the air. Horrified cries and shouts swirled with echoes of humanity’s pain and mental torment. Lita covered her ears, dropping to the ground on her knees. Quick, wild bodies moved by her. Heavy footsteps stomped into the dirt directly beside her. Lita raised her head, noticing a tan-skinned woman with long dark hair. Her attire was strangely out of place on a battlefield. Her eyes were the color of warm caramel, but the pupils shifted unnaturally. The woman leaped into the air with a crunchy, crackling sound, much like jet thrusters. Was this a different war?
Lita felt disoriented, nearly falling over.
“DOVIAN!” A loud shout gathered Lita’s attention. It came from a woman, an unknown voice.
Lita looked to the sky, catching sight of Dovian soaring through the air, flames surrounding him. He was terrifying, unlike anything she had ever seen. Was this his full power? It chilled her.
More images flashed through her mind—explosions igniting the horizon, dust touching the sky, the earth shattering from impact, strange mechanical wails, terrifying technological weapons destroying everyone and everything. Innocents died, and soldiers were gruesomely destroyed. Humans were divided, some behaving strangely, and somehow Lita swore she heard a child giggle.
It was too much; it didn’t make any sense. Out of the chaos came another shout, Dovian’s name again. Lita saw her comrades falling, the scene flickering between the plains of Ives to the desert. And suddenly there was red—Dovian slathered in blood. His breathing was labored, his eyes nearly white. His power drained from him, and Lita could do nothing about it. She ran to him, to his bloodied and broken form, screaming his name. As she slid to her knees, she grabbed the front of his coat, shaking him.
“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare die on me!” Lita screamed, though her voice felt strange echoing in her ears.
Dovian lay motionless beneath her armored hands, hands that belonged to someone else. She shook him, smacked his chest, begged him to return to her. The sun disappeared behind clouds of red. As the harsh light of day faded to the black of night, rain pelted her face once again. She caught her breath as the sky lit up with brilliant blue. An electric dome encased all that she could see. Within seconds, it pulled back away for only a moment before exploding outward, soaring toward her and the corpses surrounding her, sending all into dust.
The last thing she heard was the sound of Dovian’s scream, merging with her own as she shot upward in bed. Lita sucked in air, trying to fill her lungs as if she had been under water. As she gasped, her hand clutching her chest, she heard a worried whisper beside her.
“Lita?” Karter asked.
His warm fingers touched the bare skin of her shoulder, simultaneously calming her and causing her to shiver.
“Sorry. Bad dream,” she quietly replied.
She looked down at the man, her long hair slowly slipping across one shoulder down her chest. Lightly, she grabbed his fingers. He gave her a sad smile, his crimson eyes dimming to a more neutral hue. She gave him a weak smile in return and kissed his forehead as she brushed her thin fingers through his thick messy hair.
“What about?” he asked as he guided her to rest on his chest. Lita placed a hand on the shoulder opposite of where she laid her head and dangled a leg over his.
She took a deep breath and sighed. “The end of the world.”
“Premonition”
Chapter 20
Sir Gaius busied himself with feeding Kitara. Truthfully, he missed Petey. To mend his sorrows, he started the habit of sneaking snacks to Fardon’s overgrown owl. Kitara had taken a liking to Sir Gaius’ extra attention and had grown accustomed to meeting him every day around noon at his office window.
“You don’t like these as much as the others, do you?” Gaius questioned the bird.
Kitara twisted and cocked her head; her eyes focused on the tasty morsel between his fingers. With haste, she plucked the food from his hand. Gaius’ armband beeped as a message arrived.
‘Please send my bird home, and cease giving her so many treats. She’s become too sassy these past few evenings.
From: Fardon’
Gaius chuckled. “Alright, I’ve spoiled you plenty this week.” He dismissed the bird, much to her dissatisfaction. Kitara hissed, bobbing her head forward before taking to the sky to return home.
“Sassy is a generous term.” Gaius frowned.
The Elder turned and strode to his door. As he waved a hand, the doors opened to reveal a nervous Lita standing outside. Her hand was propped in the air, ready to knock. Her emerald eyes had widened for a second before her shoulders slumped and she dragged herself into the man’s office.
“What brings you here, my dear?” Sir Gaius asked.
“Oh, just…wanted to see what was new.”
“New?” Gaius repeated with a small laugh
. “What was new for me today? I had strawberries with my pancakes instead of blueberries.”
Lita’s eyes narrowed. “That’s all?”
Sir Gaius squeezed his chin, thinking. “Kitara hissed at me.”
“Isn’t that typical of her?”
“I guess she can be a bit temperamental.”
Lita forced a smile, and Gaius’ amusement deflated. He clasped his hands before his waist.
“Lita, what troubles you? Don’t bother beating around the bush. Tell me straightforward.” The man didn’t sit before her but remained off to the side, walking slowly across the room as his eyes scanned the paintings and antiquities decorating his walls. Over the many years, he discovered Lita would often be more honest if the listener were busy moving about as she spoke.
Lita kept her eyes on the fireplace ahead of her. No heat emanated from it, but rather a cool breeze. Gaius liked the fire effect and treated the flame as an air conditioner for his room during the warmer seasons.
“I’ve been having dreams,” she grumbled.
“About?”
“War.”
“What kind of war?”
“Sorcēarians against humans.”
Gaius hesitated only for a split-second before continuing his casual fidgeting. “And?”
Lita swallowed. “It takes place on Ives.”
“Here?”
She nodded. “Outside the city and within the desert. Near the caves, it seems.”
Gaius peered at her out the corner of his eye. “Our caves?”
“I think so. There’s desert surrounding us.”
The Elder placed his hands on the windowsill, looking out to the sky.
“Our desert?” He quietly pondered.
Lita reflected on the premonition. “Our plains, our caves, and then the desert. I’ve not traveled to our desert many times. I would assume it is ours.”