by A. R. Crebs
“Grandpa…” Lita whispered. “Why am I having these visions?”
The two women eagerly awaited his answer.
“Why do I have a special connection to Euclid?”
Sir Gaius dropped his head. A long breath escaped him. He held up his hands in defeat. “It’s not so much a connection to Euclid as it is a connection to Dovian.”
“What do you mean?” Lita thought on how she could often read Dovian’s mind, feel the same emotions as him.
“It’s something I had intended on keeping a secret.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because, Lita, you and Dovian are soulmates.”
Goosebumps covered her arms. She looked sideways at I’Lanthe as her mouth dropped open in shock.
“That’s…a bit creepy, isn’t it? I mean, shouldn’t that be…Lanthe?”
Sir Gaius gave a small laugh. “Soulmates can be many things, Lita. You and he were inseparable during your time before this. Not a moment went by where you two weren’t near one another. When Dovian agreed to his position in this life, you couldn’t stand to wait as he spent his years here while you remained behind.”
Lita closed her eyes, trying to remember her life before. Nothing came to mind.
“Even though you chased right after him, time here is much different. You weren’t born until far later. You must’ve been waiting for the right moment so that you could be placed within his lineage. You were always very protective of him,” Gaius explained.
Lita blushed. She had no idea that would be the reason as to why she was so close to Dovian.
“Soulmates have fascinating, binding relationships. Somehow, you managed to maintain that link while being birthed here. I’ve not known of anyone else who has managed that. But then again, nothing that happens to us is without reason. These events no doubt have a strong connection to Dovian. It’s within your nature to protect him, so it only makes sense that is the reason why you are having these visions.”
“So, if all of this is connected to Dovian, then that means…everything Euclid does affects him.”
Sir Gaius swallowed, thinking a moment before replying. “It does.”
“What else aren’t you telling us?” I’Lanthe pressed. “Why would you keep this a secret?”
“Because there is the possibility that this knowledge could have adverse effects on the timeline. If anybody were to know the truth about their future or all the answers to their questions, would they fulfill their destiny? Perhaps the timeline would move on regardless. It’s a risk I cannot take.” Gaius hoped they would understand. He needed as many on his side as possible. He couldn’t risk angering the girls, but anymore he felt powerless to the world.
“Am I changing things as I speak to you about my visions?” Lita fearfully squeaked.
“If anything, I would call your visions a blessing. They have put us ahead of Euclid. Let’s hope they continue to do so. Though they aid us and correlate to my speculations, we still need valid evidence.” Gaius followed his statement with a moment of silence to ponder. “This private meeting Euclid had, can you name anyone who attended?” Sir Gaius was desperate for any leads.
Lita closed her eyes, thinking. “At the time of my vision, it was as if the meeting hadn’t occurred yet. The images were vague. I saw many with their hood drawn, but heard no names and saw no familiar faces.”
The Elder’s hope deflated. If they couldn’t gather any hard evidence, Lita’s visions would have no validity in court. There was no proof that they were entirely true.
“I can confirm it,” a hollow voice interrupted.
Gaius turned. In the corner of the room stood Rhondin, his black shroud fading into the shadows.
“My boy,” Rhondin stammered, “is infected by darkness.”
“Tell me everything you know.” Gaius’ eyes ignited.
“I caught Euclid this evening holding a private meeting in the cemetery. Of those present, I am unsure as to who they are except one—Antron.”
“Quentin’s son?”
Rhondin nodded. “Do…you think it’s possible that Euclid was involved in the death of Quentin’s family?”
“It most certainly is not out of the question.” Gaius eyed Lita.
“He plans to start a war. Euclid wants to overthrow the Council of Elders and the World Council. I believe my son wants to turn the world upside down.”
“For what reason?” Betrayal was a feeling Gaius had quickly grown accustomed to. He had given Euclid far too many chances.
“He wants to rid the world of humanity,” Rhondin replied with shame.
“Where is he now?” Gaius demanded.
“I-I have no idea. He revealed very little to me. I believe he’s outside time, plotting something, Sir Gaius. Something terrible.” Rhondin felt disgraced at betraying his son, but he was at a loss for what to do. He didn’t want to lose his boy. Euclid needed to be locked away, for his own safety, and for everyone else’s.
“Azera, come here immediately,” Gaius mentally called to his right-hand man. The Golden Warrior appeared in an instant, ready for his orders.
“Sir…” Rhondin started, “Euclid has the spell book. And he knows about…Dovian.”
“Knows what about Dovian?” I’Lanthe stepped forward. Gaius quickly silenced her with a raised hand. She swallowed her pride, respecting his request.
“He has overstepped his bounds, Rhondin,” Gaius hissed. “I cannot guarantee Euclid’s safety.”
Rhondin’s lower lip quivered. It was unheard of to have to hunt down another Sorcēarian in such a way as this. “Do what you must,” he responded with a shaking breath.
“Return home. Any sign of your son, you are to notify us immediately. Azera, Euclid is thought to be outside the timeline. Find him, figure out what he is up to. I’Lanthe, go to the confinement tower. You are in charge of Dovian’s well-being. The safest place for him is behind those bars. Lita, you have to rest.”
Rhondin bowed and promptly disappeared. Azera stood still, his eyes a shimmering vortex as he searched outside time through his sight. I’Lanthe bowed, patted Lita on the shoulder, and disappeared as well. The Elder had never been so frightened in his entire existence. If Euclid followed through with his plans, Dovian’s life would be in danger. It was the moment he had dreaded since he came to Earth.
***
Euclid sat in the darkness of space, his legs crossed in meditation. With his hands resting on his knees, he focused his breaths. Gaius’ book sat open on his lap; the pages flipped to the chapters subjecting the mathematics of time and space. The Azure Sorcēarian reflected on the past, time slowly churning behind him in a cloudy vision. He paused a moment, focusing on the nebulas all around. The timeline remained silent, beautiful. Euclid had sat outside before; it was how he had advanced his skills so quickly, but this was the longest he had hidden from the real world. It felt like days, but not more than a couple seconds had passed in the physical world. Still, he ran low on energy, and his lessons weren’t yet learned.
Reaching into his pocket, Euclid retrieved an apple. He bit into it, his eyes skimming the text on the page. The script was written in Legacy, something that humans had yet learned to interpret. It wasn’t within their minds to comprehend and was probably one of the few reasons why mankind hadn’t overruled the Sorcēarians and stole the divine spells and technology. Even if they could, humanity couldn’t utilize the knowledge to its full potential. Their DNA hadn’t the capacity to withstand the spell work and information. Euclid took another bite, smirking at the thought. They’d never have as much power as the simplest Sorcēarian, let alone him.
Euclid finished the fruit and closed his eyes, humming as he licked his lips. Break time was over. Breathing in deeply, he resumed his previous position. With a deep exhale, time swirled around him, pushing further back. He skimmed the warfare, considering all the times he had been disgusted with humanity. Eventually, the vortex brought about the imagery of his long-forgotten past. In these times,
Euclid no longer fought in nonsensical wars but attended classes like all young Sorcēarians. Time revealed events that hadn’t crossed his mind for many centuries. The memories overflowed, flooding him with a contradicting swirl of emotions. His nails clenched the cloth of his robes.
Euclid relived his childhood. He and Dovian used to run and play by the silver lakes behind the Gaius complex. They’d fish with Orin. All three would play hide-and-seek. Swimming was one of their favorite pastimes. As boys, they had countless sleepovers, pillow fights, and chess matches. Sometimes Gaius III would join in. Euclid had forgotten how much fun he and his friends used to have.
Euclid recalled the moments that Dovian’s mother acted as his own. Elysia constantly fed the children treats, much to the disliking of Dovian’s father. She brought Euclid soup whenever he was sick. She would even care for his father at times. Elysia was a pleasant lady, one any boy would love to call mother.
Time twisted the opposite direction as Euclid focused on the woman. He relived the moments of her death as he fished with Orin and Dovian. He was as shocked and panicked as the other boys were to hear the foreboding sound of the complex’s bells gonging in unison. It was the same day Dovian displayed his great power and Sir Gaius equipped him with the back apparatus. It was the day Rhondin lost his arm. Time churned further back as Euclid focused on the pain his father had repeatedly suffered. Rhondin was once a strong, able man. However, his strength greatly dwindled once his wife died and continued to fade with each disaster following. Elysia’s death was the last straw.
Euclid winced. That was the problem with love. Love was a weakness. To love another person meant to be distracted by them constantly, to worry, be feeble at the time of their absence or loss. Love wasn’t something Euclid needed. Love was the one emotion that tore down everyone he had known. To show love and caring for others meant to strip yourself of your power. Euclid needed power. He needed strength to save the world from the perils of humanity.
He focused once again on his goal, time spiraling toward the day that Dovian was born. The rapidly rolling images enveloped him as time slowed; a deep groan echoed through the vastness of space. Walls closed in around him, decorated with stained glass windows and billowing white curtains. The scent of rain followed along with the dull drumming of thunder. Euclid opened his eyes and lowered his legs into a standing position as the marble floor pulled up beneath him. Taking in his surroundings, he moved slowly toward a door at the end of the hall. Orange firelight seeped in a line across the floor and wall from a thin opening. It was the middle of the night, the setting eerily silent. As Euclid neared the door, he heard a faint humming. The sound chilled him. He heard the song before.
Euclid peeked through the crack, the pale light casting over his face. He took a moment to calm his sudden quick breaths as he examined the room. Elysia sat on the bed, the covers drawn up to her waist with pillows stacked behind her. Strange, he never realized how young she appeared. A few strands of her long hair were pinned back atop her wine-colored curls. Her vivid green eyes were familiar, those he had seen on Lita. The woman’s pale skin reminded him of a marble statue, an attribute belonging to Dovian that was further understood. Elysia stared adoringly at the small bundle in her arms.
Euclid’s blistering gaze flickered as he momentarily held conflicted emotions. He stared upon a living ghost. At this moment, he could forever alter time. He shifted, the thunder roaring as he moved. Elysia gasped, her eyes immediately locking on him. Her thin hands instinctively clutched the infant Dovian. The baby made no sound. Euclid froze with fear. He could kill them both, but he didn’t want to kill Elysia, only Dovian. Elysia was important to his father. Rhondin needed her. Slowly, Euclid soundlessly pushed the bedroom door open and silently entered. The subdued lighting of the room created a haunting effect.
“Do…I know you?” Elysia whispered.
Euclid tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He wasn’t sure what to say. A slight shift in her eyes gave him enough warning to roll to the side, narrowly avoiding Azera’s sword.
“I’ve been chasing you through time for a while,” Azera’s rich voice croaked. His eyes swirled.
Euclid sneered. Azera read the timeline, sending warnings to himself in the past. The Golden Warrior wasted no time, slashing toward Euclid with blurring speed. Azera’s sword met the air once again as Euclid teleported; a black cloud swooped around the warrior’s legs, knocking him off balance. Appearing from behind, Euclid swiped at Azera with his claw rings, shredding through Azera’s cape instead as he defensively sidestepped. The hilt of the sword caught the Azure man’s chin. An outbreak of attacks persisted. Breathing wasn’t even an option as Euclid dodged one after another metal and energy as Azera held nothing back. Euclid formed a protective barrier around himself. He couldn’t even find an opening to the bout, and it took everything he had to block the expert’s attacks. It only angered him further. Despite his secret training, Euclid was still no match for Azera.
Azera wound up, light swirling around his sword. Euclid chanced a sideways glance. The golden giant managed to keep Euclid far away from Elysia. It was now or never. Euclid would take the chance; if not, he’d be dead anyway. Palming his tuner, he jumped back just as Azera threw his sword. The weapon’s light shattered the shield, and the tip of the blade made contact just as Euclid disappeared. He reappeared on the opposite side of the room, furthest from Azera. Blood seeped from the right side of his chest, darkening his blue robes. Azera’s expression faltered, and for the first time that Euclid had experienced, the giant Sorcēarian seemed fearful. This built Euclid’s confidence, and he reached for the infant in Elysia’s arms. The woman gave no shout but glared evenly upon the intruder.
Euclid was met with the harsh crackle of electric shock as he contacted her protective barrier. His body tremored and violently flew back into the wall. Euclid was stunned. He had heard of Elysia’s wondrous medic skills and protective spell work, but he had never come across a barrier such as this. Perhaps he was too hasty, didn’t sense the tingling sensation surrounding her and the baby. He couldn’t fathom she was so powerful that she could shroud her magic from even him. A loud scoff passed Euclid’s cracked lips. Before anybody moved, he pulled himself away from the room, disappearing outside of time with the last amount of strength he could muster.
The Azure Sorcēarian remained in the otherworldly plane, breathing in shallow breaths while in a meditative trance, trying to heal his wounds. Whatever Elysia had done, lapped up most of his energy in one strike. It was unnatural. His teeth ground together.
“Must get stronger,” Euclid seethed.
Blood smeared across the pages as he turned to the section of forbidden spells. Sputtering the words, time curved around him. Stars and nebulas swirled. The universe bent at his will, and a thick darkness enveloped him. Even Azera wouldn’t be able to see through this form of protection—a black hole. But time wasn’t unlimited. Slowly, seconds went by in the real world. Even if it would take but a minute for Azera, Sir Gaius, or even Fardon to notice and investigate the new creation in space, Euclid had plenty of time to review the spells. As soon as he would reenter active time, he’d have all eyes searching. His cloaking needed some fine tuning.
As the black void swallowed him, Euclid flipped through the book, the words glittering along the pages, filling his mind and soul with forbidden knowledge and power.
“Great things come to those who want it more, who work harder than the rest.” He narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the symbols on the parchment.
***
Rhondin sat on the mattress in Euclid’s bedroom. His son had placed an intricate locking spell on his door, but it was something that took minimal effort for him to decipher. Euclid was sure to turn up eventually; it was his place of refuge, always had been. With eyes scanning the room, Rhondin tried to gather any evidence of his son’s corruption. Had the boy always been this way? What terrible signs had Rhondin missed? Treating the boy with care and sensitivity was se
cond nature. It seemed, no matter what he did, Euclid’s path always led to this point. Tough love never worked, as Euclid was increasingly spiteful. What could the man do to persuade his son to back down from his transgressions?
“Love.” Rhondin trailed his fingers over the handmade quilt on the bed. His wife had it made for the boy when he was young. “Love is the only answer.”
‘Euclid’s vulnerable. Scared. I know him. He doesn’t truly want this. He’s simply dug in too deep and thinks there’s no turning back.’
The room smelled of cinnamon incense and a hint of whiskey from the bottle hidden in the wardrobe. Euclid’s Azure banner hung proudly on the wall above a full-length mirror. The room was rich in design, made of dark wood and metals of gold and bronze. There were very few sentimental items. Euclid never held much regard for material things. Upon reflecting on his son’s room, Rhondin came to realize that the only thing Euclid ever held much pride in was his power. The only time Euclid thrived was during times of war. The man’s face paled, his hands shaking. He had to pray for his son.
“I don’t believe that will do you any good.” Rhondin jerked at the sound of Euclid’s voice.
“Euclid!” He stood, turning toward the door which the young man blocked with his stretched inky wings. Immediately, Rhondin sensed a thick darkness surrounding his son. “What…happened to you?”
Euclid’s penetrating glare chilled Rhondin to the core. A hum echoed within the room; a thick, murky cloud brushed along the floor with cool wisps of air. Breathy moans assaulted the older man’s senses.
“How long has it been, father?” Euclid numbly asked, his eyes scanning his bedroom.
“How long?” Rhondin repeated.
“Since our last encounter. It’s been so long. Has it been seconds, hours, days?” Euclid eyeballed his hands. A black fog spiraled between his fingertips.
“You’ve been outside time,” Rhondin gasped. “This whole time?”