The Esoteric Design: Civilization Lost

by A. R. Crebs

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” Hampden stuttered, feeling angry and simultaneously frightened to tremors.

  “Putting the blame on you won’t work. I see now; I must take matters into my own hands. They will all die by my hand; I will not allow you to share in my glory.” Euclid spoke mostly to himself, his mind in another time and place.

  “You will betray us? Was this your plan all along? Are you the one responsible for the attack this morning?” Hampden shouted at the towering man.

  “Oh, your stupidity, though it humors me, will not be missed.”

  The council had taken too long. Euclid needed his war now. The human leaders were acting like cowards. If anything, he had expected them to jump the gun and retaliate against Ives as soon as news of Euclid’s attack reached their ears. Instead, they were so quick to throw in the towel and try to think logically about the situation. Since when was humanity logical? It angered him. His plans were slipping through his fingers. If Hampden and his sheep didn't follow his lead, Euclid would do all the work himself. They already questioned his motives. Only the members of the World Council had any inclination of Euclid’s true intentions. They were the only few who could potentially cause any faltering of his tactics. To extinguish them would be no matter. Getting rid of the council would only lead the world into the chaos he needed. Confusion. Humanity always bit back during times of hysteria. The militaries were already on standby. By having the council out of the picture, the forces would mobilize on their own.

  “What do you mean, ‘will not be missed?’” Hampden glared.

  “You.” Euclid pointed toward the Speaker of the Council. He was the senior man who did absolutely nothing but record the events that took place during meetings and read the case numbers, files, and verdicts. He held no high position of authority or input. Of the whole lot, he was Euclid’s favorite. A kind, quiet man with morals and a modest lifestyle—the only man on board who hadn’t delved into the profiteering of warfare. “Stand over there.”

  The older man quivered and did as told, clutching his record keeping portfolio against his chest.

  “I need you to keep a record of this.” Euclid then pressed his palms together. A deep buzz hummed; a slight pressure consumed the room. In the record keeper's mind, Euclid manipulated his vision. Everything the Sorcēarian would do next would be in the image of Sir Gaius. Misunderstanding overtook the old man as his previous memories were altered to serve Euclid’s bidding. Timidly, the man raised his phone, setting it to record.

  Euclid’s time was precious, and he had grown tired of these people. Thrusting his palms forward, he sent a wall of power toward the council members. Hampden, being in front of the group, was hit first and took the brunt of the attack. The room filled with terrified screams. Euclid followed through with one wave, then another, and swayed both hands at the same time to send two spiraling blasts. The shrieks quickly finished beneath the sound of bone crunching and blood splattering.

  Inhaling deeply, Euclid lowered his hands, black smoke flickering between his fingers. He peered at the Speaker of the House whose phone remained clenched tightly between trembling fingers. Euclid didn’t say anything but tread past the man, making for the exit. The Sorcēarian looked down at his wristband, taking in the time. He was going to be late to his next meeting.

  “So much to do in so little time,” he mumbled, using his sleeve to wipe away a spec of blood that had found its place on the blue tattoo streaking down his cheek.

  With a zap, Euclid disappeared, leaving the old man surrounded by the pieces and chunks of what remained of the World Council.

  “Now, where shall I begin?” Euclid murmured as he took flight along the clouds, looking out into space.

  He made a motion with his hands and clasped his fingers together. Closing his eyes, he focused on the satellites. A chime sounded on his wristband as he locked onto each one. Next, he easily hacked every outlet, gathering information on secure networks to flood the cable lines and anything else technological he could get his mind into. Soon, he’d have control over all the television networks worldwide. It was going to take some work and would be incredibly draining, but if done correctly, he could ignite the war. Using his methods of deception, Euclid created the ultimate illusion—the annihilation of every major city on the planet.

  In London, everyone witnessed the destruction of New York. Hovering above the city appeared to be Sir Gaius, his golden robes flickering in the breeze, sunlight sparkling against the silken fabric. The Elder was an inferno of rage, his wings like fire, his eyes made of lightning. Holding out one hand, he pulled the ocean upwards, curling it over the city. The earth trembled, threatening to shake the skyscrapers to dust. In a panic, the citizens scurried down the streets away from their vehicles, screaming and scrambling for refuge. Those in the buildings took to the roads; anyone outside ran into the shops and underground to the subway stations. No one knew where to go; there was no safe place. At the same time, the world witnessed the White House go up in flame beneath Gaius’ charge. Government buildings from across the nation were destroyed, disintegrated or swallowed by the terrain. Vegas and LA became a kaleidoscope of demise as the city and its inhabitants were raised and then turned upside-down. The oceans swallowed the coasts. Desert sands consumed anything that resided on the wasteland. The destruction flowed from one city to the next, leaving the nation devastated.

  Likewise, the people of the United States helplessly watched as Big Ben crumbled to pieces. Across the world, ancient structures of art and architecture fell apart. World history was simultaneously seemingly destroyed and all by the hands of one Sorcēarian, Sir Gaius. The illusion of ruin spread to Moscow, Beijing, Paris, Berlin, Barcelona, Tokyo, Rome, Istanbul, Sydney, Cairo, and more—the world observed each other’s nations crumble but never their own.

  Communications were shut down between the cities. The World Council was out of commission. The governments could only rely on their own intuition. There was no choice but to fight back. And soon, Euclid had his wish. The world’s top militaries immediately deployed with their target being Ives.

  “Orin and Kitara”

  Chapter 27

  A thousand eyes upon him, murmurs and whispers that spoke his name, and an incredibly tense atmosphere—all these created the most embarrassing situation Dovian had ever experienced. It seemed he had been in the courtroom more in recent times than he had the past couple hundred years combined. This time, however, he sat in the center of it all upon the mahogany chair that rested on the maroon aisle rug. Never in his lifetime would he have thought he’d occupy this seat beneath the scrutiny of his Elders. At least, not under these circumstances.

  The tense stares from his family members and friends only embarrassed him further. Even though he was innocent, Dovian still felt guilty. I’Lanthe observed him, her beautiful lips curved into a frown. He grew to both fear and love that look. She fought to remain strong, but every fiber of her being wanted to race down and unshackle him. Dovian’s father sat beside Gaius II. Lita was on the opposite side with Karter next to her. Lita must have felt Dovian’s stare because her dreadful expression quickly twisted as she locked eyes with him. She wrinkled her nose and smirked, wiggling her fingers at him. Dovian’s nerves calmed only a smidgeon at her unprofessionalism. Someone coughed, the noise pulling his awareness to the front of the courtroom.

  Even the Elders were uneasy. Sir Gaius, staring straight ahead at his great-grandson, leaned to the side, whispering to Fardon. “Any news from your grandson?”

  Fardon murmured quietly, his eyes scanning the room. “I’ve seemed to have lost contact with him. It is possible he’s outside the timeline right now, on his way here.”

  “It takes but a moment for us to perceive his travel,” Gaius replied, slightly perturbed.

  “It’s unlike him to be late; you know this.”

  Gaius scowled. “Which is why I’m worried.” His glowing irises moved to match Fardon’s spiraling own.

  �
�I do hope there was no trouble.”

  Narita cleared her throat, gathering the men’s attention. “We can’t wait much longer. Either we start soon, or we must postpone the hearing.”

  “Our time is greatly limited.” Sir Gaius rubbed his forehead. His heart ached for Dovian; the Scarlet warrior seemed meek in his current position. They greatly needed Orin and his newly gathered evidence to support Dovian. Without it, he would soon be found guilty, permanently confined to the tower. With a dismal heaving breath, Gaius lifted his hammer. It was too risky to continue without proper evidence. He’d have to postpone. He gently clacked the hammer upon the arm of his chair. The sound echoed loudly throughout the room, silencing everyone. The Elder stood, his vast cape stretched high behind him, latched to the ceiling as usual for court. Before the Elder could speak, however, a tinge of alarm rushed through him. He quickly turned to Fardon, but his friend already had his churning gaze set on the far wall.

  “I see something!” Fardon gasped.

  A horn thundered from afar, a warning. It was a rare alarm, one that was used by the Watchers on the opposite side of the lake. The group of visionaries lived together within a complex. Being close in proximity helped with gaining visual acuity in their premonitions and sight. With a flicker of light, one of the Watchers appeared before the council.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but there is a matter of utmost importance that needs to be looked upon.” The Watcher fisted his chest and bowed. The dangling beads of his headpiece clinked musically together as he made the motion.

  Fardon’s eyes whirled as he made a gasp. “I can see it.”

  “Show me!” Gaius shouted. The room filled with murmurs. Gaius raised his hand, a motion that told everyone to remain calm. He quickly cast a dome of light around himself and the Elders, shielding the meeting from the rest of the court.

  The Watcher palmed his wristband, bringing up a projection. It swirled with evidence of the chaos surrounding the world.

  “Why was I not notified sooner? What is going on?” Gaius’ peaceful conduct shattered into one of rage.

  “It’s not real,” Fardon said with relief, however, his face remained tense.

  “How?” Gaius demanded.

  “Illusion,” the Watcher spoke. “Unlike any we’ve ever seen.”

  “It had nearly slipped past my sight. Illusions take place on a different frequency than we normally deal with. Euclid is too crafty,” Fardon hissed.

  Sir Gaius eyed Fardon. “Do we have proof it’s him?” He agreed with the man’s speculation. However, they needed proof.

  The Watcher shook his head. “No. Sir…the illusion reveals it’s you who is responsible.”

  Elder Gaius’ mouth fell slightly agape. The Watcher didn’t need instruction on what to do next. He motioned toward the vision hovering before them and rotated his hands, rewinding the imagery. Sure enough, soaring in the sky above all the devastation at each location appeared Sir Gaius.

  “I curse the day I ever allowed that boy to hold any power,” the Elder growled.

  A screech came from above. Fardon made a noise of recognition, lifting his gaze to the domed ceiling. One window remained open, and through it tumbled Kitara. The poor girl was broken and bleeding, spiraling ungracefully toward them, nearly falling. Despite the damage, she had somehow been able to summon her barriers to protect her on the supersonic flight home. This alone made Fardon’s blood run cold. If Kitara had to travel in such a way, that meant she separated from Orin.

  “Kitara!” Fardon leaped through the privacy barrier, shattering it, and over the podium to catch the exhausted bird. She was on her last breaths. The Emerald man stared into her eyes, gathering any evidence the owl had recorded. His fingers lightly massaged her feathers.

  As Fardon was distracted, Sir Gaius hurriedly approached him. “Everyone stay in your seats!” he ordered the court. He quickly passed a hand over the bird, healing her. “Tell me what you see.”

  Fardon gave a quick shout, followed by a moan. The Elders, not heeding Gaius’ words, quickly rose from their seats, all watching in fear. Dovian latched tightly around the arms of the chair. He had no clue what was happening, but Kitara rarely went on missions with anyone other than Fardon. He knew Orin was involved.

  “Sir Gaius,” Fardon barely managed to eke out the words. “O-Orin….”

  The Emerald Elder looked to the stands where Orin’s parents and siblings sat. Beside them was Fardon’s wife, Maren. Those carrying Fardon’s genes held horrified expressions, their eyes spiraling as they processed the information. Orin was dead.

  “Tell me what happened! Quick!” Sir Gaius spoke.

  “He…was…m-murdered!” Fardon placed Kitara on the floor, covering his face. A haunting cry erupted from the devastated man; the image of the human woman and Orin’s deaths replayed in his mind along with the faraway sight of the city going up in flames. “It was Euclid! He killed the female witness. Attacked Orin! The city…it was nearly destroyed! I know it. He’s responsible for all of this!”

  A series of screams flooded the room. Sir Gaius lifted his hands, taking a moment to observe in the scene around him. As he did so, his timeline greatly condensed. To his visions, multiple figurative doors closed. The consequences of Euclid’s actions were altering time and setting humanity’s fate onto a singular path. Their options were greatly limited. The game plan had changed. Everything Sir Gaius had intended to put into motion while occupying Earth was now forever tainted. All because of one Sorcēarian.

  “I was foolish,” he whispered.

  Fardon gaped at the golden-robed man with an overwhelmed expression. Dovian looked to him as well; his mind ached with a strange feeling of constraint, and he wasn’t sure why.

  Multiple people rose from their seats with their hoods drawn. From their robes, they retrieved an assortment of weaponry. Their first target, Orin’s father, was grabbed from behind, a blade shoved through his chest. The shrouded men repeatedly stabbed another family member. And the barrage commenced with sliced throats, battering of heads, and shockwaves of power. The courtroom quickly became a war zone. Gaius turned to look to the Elders. A small group of assailants leaped from the highest balcony and landed behind them. The figures each raised their weapons, something Gaius hadn’t seen in many years. Dread overtook him. The attackers held ancient artifacts, those that had supposedly gone missing long ago. With a short twisting blade and a thick jewel-inlaid handle, they were titled Angel Slayers by those who fell before. Even if one could heal himself, a puncture from one of those blades would absorb a Sorcēarian’s life-force. They were a long-forgotten ancient device, no doubt found and distributed by Euclid.

  The attacks occurred simultaneously. Within seconds, most of the original Elders were down. The blades pierced their flesh, absorbing the light of their power and souls. A few fought back, narrowly escaping their impending doom. Narita and Jaleal worked together to dispose of a few of the enemies. They quickly grew outnumbered, working their way toward the center of the room to join Sir Gaius.

  In the crowd, Maren retrieved a battle axe from one of the enemies. She fought swiftly and valiantly, guarding the younger generations who hadn’t mastered their classes yet. Fardon remained locked in a spiraling daze, unresponsive to the goings-on around him.

  Dovian tried to move, but the chains on his wrists and ankles kept him firmly locked in place. He scanned the room, watching the members of his society unjustly fall. Desperate, he mentally called out to Lita, hoping she would hear his cries. Something gathered his attention, and he saw her, being shielded by Karter as he fought against the assailants. Lita peered over her shoulder, giving Dovian a reassuring smile. Her hands lit up with blue as she held up a shield. She would occasionally summon a blast of her own to knock back attacks from behind. Luckily, her mother was not there. Her father, however, was on a rampage.

  Gaius II hollered, punching the air around him, knocking the men back. If any so much as got too close to Lita, he personally grabbed them by the
collar and tossed them across the room. His methods were harsh at times, but he still refused to kill anyone.

  Gaius III protected the civilians in the room, guiding them to safety out a side door. He did a good job hiding his concern for his own son but chanced a glance now and then at Dovian. “Sir Gaius! Release him!” he called.

  The events momentarily dazed Elder Gaius. At the sound of Gaius III’s voice, he quickly moved to Dovian. He snapped his fingers, and the chains fell from the prisoner. Dovian readied to thank him, but a tingling sensation took over, and he immediately twisted out of the way just as his chair splintered in half.

  “He’s here!” Dovian shouted. He palmed the air and frowned. The golden bracelets still hung on his arms, making him powerless.

  Sir Gaius shoved Dovian out of the way as another shockwave rushed toward him. The Elder’s barrier easily absorbed the impact. A dark shadow swirled around them and funneled upwards a few feet away. Euclid stepped from the darkness, his attention on his Scarlet friend.

  “Euclid! You have lost your mind!” Elder Gaius stepped directly between Dovian and the Azure Sorcēarian.

  Euclid chuckled, gesturing around him. “And in doing so, I have gained freedom.”

  “By destroying the freedom of those around you.”

  “I’m already bored with this conversation.” Euclid motioned forward. His next attack was a hundred times stronger than the last. The Elder was unprepared; his shield disintegrated upon impact. Euclid quickly followed with another, and Gaius easily dodged, throwing Dovian across the room.

  Dovian tucked and rolled, trying to absorb the crash the best he could. While still being bound, he felt completely useless. He could do nothing but watch the fight unfold between Sir Gaius and Euclid. There was an exchange of powers, each one dodging the other’s attack. Whereas Sir Gaius focused his spells strictly on the other man, Euclid was reckless, allowing his power to move freely, even if he missed his target. The Azure Sorcēarian put others in danger by destroying the pillars of the room. He used this tactic to distract the Elder. Dovian could sense his great-grandfather’s frustration.