“Arias…father?” he whispers.
The sounds of footsteps approaching cause him to close the book quickly. He conceals it in his clothing then throws the rest in the chest. As the patrol officer stands over him, he begins cleaning the golden-eagle crest with a dirty rag.
“I may have damaged it…I didn’t want the Archon to show off a busted box,” he explains.
The patrol-officer is satisfied, “Yes Sir. Will you be here long?”
“No…Take this to the Archon. Please let him know I did my best to fix it.”
The patrol officer nods then accepts the box. They both make their way outside; the officer climbs into his waiting car, observing Alexius mount the hover-bike. They leave together down the road.
-OFFICER BARRACKS SHOWERS-
The constant rhythm of falling water from showerheads is a welcoming sound, especially after being out in the forest all day. The rising steam quickly forms clouds, making navigation of the bath area somewhat tricky. Alexius makes his way to the back of the showers.
He has developed an affinity to form relationships with things, mostly inanimate, to cope with the isolation a soldier feels. He has his preferred parking spot, favorite cup, his favorite shower stall; a bit compulsive but a necessary comfort for the chosen profession he practices.
The sounds of falling water intensified since he first entered, now closer to his comfort area, new sounds begin to echo. He is curious who is back there this late, laughing. He breaks the corner only to chide himself; I should’ve known…Deidra.
She is lathering up with her girlfriend Cleo, in his favorite stall. He gets into the spot next to Deidra, as he does both girls become silent. He turns the water on, quickly soaking in the stream.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he tells the girls.
Deidra looks at him, blatantly annoyed, “FaW-C huh? You son of a bitch…you could have told me.”
Alexius calmly responds, “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Did you even consider I would? Fucking shit.”
At this point, Cleo is expecting a brawl. She quickly turns off her shower.
“I am sorry, truly am. What’s done is done. You should be happy you’re leaving this place.”
“I’ve had enough of it,” Deidra declares. “Time to return to real fighting, with honor and glory.” She pauses, waiting to drop the sliver of gossip she received. She decides to put aside her annoyance for a while to share her news; there is a chance Alexius would change his mind about FaW-C. “Did you hear? Your mentor Commander Stavos is starting a campaign.”
Cleo’s footsteps slosh away on the wet floor as she heads to a stack of towels. She looks at Deidra with that look in her eyes, the look Alexius knew all too well.
“Your victim for the tonight?” he asks.
Deidra’s lingering anger disappears. She softens up as she blushes, “Possibly. We’ve been on and off.”
“Look…I’ve always wanted to experience the mystery of the land beyond the ocean.”
Deidra’s anger quickly returns, “Go fuck yourself.”
“I have to tell you something…it has to stay between us,” he warns. A short silence passes. “I took one of the books. It belonged to my father.”
Deidra is appalled. She begins to protest, but Alexius quickly covers her mouth. She starts to calm down, “If the Archon finds out, he will have our heads.”
“He won’t,” he reassures her. “Why were the nomads stealing these books? And what does my father have to do with it?”
“No great Atlantean such as your father would be mixed up with nomads. Simple coincidence, that’s all.”
“It could be. Oh, I leave for Parthon in the morning.”
Deidra steps out of the shower, angry. “You really can’t wait to leave me can you?”
“My mother has passed on. Inias insists I go.”
Feeling stupid, Deidra steps closer, this time she tries to offer consoling words. She knew of the turbulent history with his mother, but somewhere deep inside him there had to be some version of love.
“Let go of the past,” she advises. “Do what is right by paying your respects. She was your mother after all.”
“For the sake of honor, I will go. Then I’ll meet you in the capital.” He watches her walk away.
“You do that,” she exclaims, grabbing a towel from the rack.
-ALEXIUS’ QUARTERS-
Garrison officers are afforded some luxuries due to their rank and station. One amenity is the convenience of private quarters. The Cadets all share rooms with ten per space, cramped in a stuffy compartment; not the case in Captain’s Alexius’ room.
The décor shows off expensive taste, with ornaments, drapery, decorative pictures, all rivaling the Archon himself. Alexius even has a rug from Parthon, woven by raunchy barmaids. Everything is neat and appropriately placed. His bed is of average size and carefully arranged with expensive silks. The past two days have been long; all he wants to do is finish packing.
Procrastination is something he excels at, always putting off a task in favor of a lucrative distraction. Tonight’s indulgence is the book he stole from the Archon’s chest. By right its mine, he convinced himself. This does not diminish his caution, for if Inias realized it was missing, soldiers would be breaking down his door before morning. Maybe he didn’t know it was there.
He lays on the bed ready to skim through the diary. Sleep is crawling up his back, slowly taking over like a shadow, squeezing his eyes shut. Always a stubborn lad, he pushes through the fatigue in favor of reading a few pages. In a whisper, he reads.
“The houses of ENlil and ENki brought the Great War, devastating Hyperboria. ENlil invaded the lands of Persephone and Osiris, purging the royal house.”
He closes the book, looks at the door, then opens it up again. Skimming through, he stops midway back to a map of the Cappadocian region in Anatolia. The illustration is detailed, showing hidden entrances to parts deep underground. He turns several pages then continues to read a notation.
“The path to the key of power starts in Cappadocia. The eye of Persephone will guide you to Lumeria. Protect the people Alexius, my son.”
He slams the book shut, overwhelmed at the thought of his father’s book being involved in everything that transpired. Confused as to what part he has to play in the journey that will unfold, tired of running away from his family, he tosses the journal into his chest. Sleep overcomes him.
Chapter 08: Is It Lumeria?
-FROZEN WASTELAND IN THE UNKNOWN SOUTHERN CONTINENT-
An endless blanket of snow stretches across the landscape, reflecting the sunlight to the point of being unbearable. This land was once green, fertile, one where life flourished. It exists as a barren icy wasteland now, with a history lost to antiquity.
All scans have returned the same result; it is devoid of any life or habitation. Many expeditions have braved the treacherous conditions, however, searching for the mythical land of Lumeria. Lost through the annals of history, it became a myth. A story told by survivors of the Great-War, enticing adventurers to undertake foolish errands.
The continent is vast, existing at the southern pole of the planet. No one wants to be here; no one dares stay here. For the myth promises that any who ventures in search of Lumeria, shall ultimately meet their demise. This does not convince the latest group of explorers to leave. They stumbled upon a massive pyramid, one they are convinced is the entrance to Lumeria.
One year ago, a scientific company was hired by the Illyrian conglomerate to conduct a survey of land holdings in the province of Ulimaroa. This province once belonged to the kingdom of Aryavan, located in the southern seas of their domain. It is an island continent as big as Atlantis, but far more diverse.
During the Illyrian and Aryan wars, Ulimaroa served as a major battleground. Many died during this tumultuous period, with peace only coming after the Empire of Atlantis joined the conflict. The Aryan monarchy was, after all, cousins to the Anuk rulers of Atlanti
s; it was expected that they would come to the aid of the house of ENlil.
The Anuk king fought alongside his kin, eventually losing all his children in the war. Devastated by this, he sought to end the conflict by any means available. Treachery had stolen his sons and daughters. He was forced to employ the same to end the war, ultimately taking Ulimaroa from the Aryans.
The Aryan ruler at the time attempted to usurp the Atlantean king by killing off his offspring. He then tried to put an end to the Monarch, the legitimate heir to the Anuk bloodline, the heir to the empire. The attempt failed with the Aryan ruler meeting the same fate he was conspiring to dish out.
Atlantis was on the brink of economic failure. Absorbing another continent would have led to financial ruin. The land was sold off to the Illyrian conglomerate, angering the remaining Aryan house. Unknown to Atlantis at the time was that Ulimaroa was rich in natural wealth. The Illyrians were now exploring the land resources.
A deep drilling survey team had stumbled upon a massive ancient area; an old outpost dated to be over twelve thousand years old. Since no records survived the Great War, the Illyrians relied upon the only authority they could, the priesthood.
Quicker than a thunder clasp, the priesthood secured the finds, designating it ‘Holy ground.’ The Illyrian conglomerate lost all rights to the site. Atlantis once more controlled a swath of Ulimaroa. Artifacts were discovered which pointed to the frozen wasteland much further south.
Now, one month in the barren tundra, the survey team has made camp at the base of a snow-white pyramid. Their communications are disabled, all means of transport inoperable, their numbers are dwindling; they are cut off from the rest of the world.
At the base of the pyramid, an Atlantean High Priest, Remus, is examining some old writing carved deep into the snow-free section of rock. His slave, Atmis, was the one who discovered it. Remus is a proud man, well built, with a full head of grey hair. Atmis, who almost never leaves his side, is in his early twenties.
“The ancients smile upon us, Remus announces. We have succeeded where no one has before. My boy, this is Lumeria.”
Atmis smiles, exposing chattering teeth, “Prince Timon will be most pleased, your eminence. But, how do we get in?”
There is a glint of excitement in the old priest’s eyes, “Ah, it is a matter of deciphering the ancient language. And I believe these symbols here will do the job.”
Remus presses a series of the symbols in the rock. Suddenly, a bright blue light envelopes him and Atmis; they instantly disappear.
-DEEP UNDERGROUND, SOMEWHERE-
A soft glow of light begins to warm a dark chamber. The walls are artificial, with a metallic texture indicating this. Consoles are spread out generously in the spacious area beyond. With the brightening light, screens come to life as if waking from a long slumber. Displays with the ancient writing materialize by the walls.
Near the chamber, inside a smaller room with an arch, bright blue light explodes into the dark. Remus appears with Atmis, bewildered as to what happened. Remus smiles, giddy with excitement. Atmis is awestruck. They walk out cautiously, being careful not to touch anything.
“What could this be?” Amis asks.
“I don’t know,” Remus responds, “but this is old, from the time of the forefathers. Travel by light is only myth told in stories. This is technology beyond anything which has existed since their time.”
He points to a passageway, motioning Atmis to follow. They traverse a narrow catwalk; below it are unknown levels of darkness. There is both apprehension and excitement in their movement. The catwalk ends at the entrance of a larger room. As they approach, the lights inside come alive, the door opens.
They step in, expecting some horror to manifest itself. A medical bed sits in the center with blood stains on it. A pile of bloody clothing is on the floor. Above the bed is a glass covering. It hangs ten feet in the air as if waiting to drop on an unsuspecting victim.
A buzzing sound emanates from a panel. A hologram of the beautiful Persephone appears next to the bed, momentarily phasing out, then reappearing. “I am Persephone...Daughter…east, west, and…house ENki…Survive my child.” The image disappears.
A symbol appears on a console, flashing as if it’s an invitation to hear more.
Remus is dumbfounded, his beliefs challenged. This was Persephone, the heretic Anuk who was struck out of the histories of the world. Her story remembered only in part by the priesthood, is kept locked away from the masses. No one could know the truth, no one dares remember her. The console keeps flashing; there has to be more.
Remus instinctively hurries to the console. With a bit of hesitation, he touches the flashing light. The beautiful image of the blonde, sad yet determined ruler does not reappear. Instead, the room begins to hum. Slow at first, then a quick deep resonating thunder.
Streaks of light shoot out from the ceiling, landing on Remus and Atmis, instantly vaporizing them. The sound does not dissipate, and for now, it is as if there is power coming from deep below, getting ready for some monstrous purpose.
-AT THE CAMP OUTSIDE THE PYRAMID-
The ground begins to rumble. Panic sets in the small number of people stranded there. They look up at the sky expecting an assault.
High up on the pyramid face snow begins to melt. The rock surface appears to be about fifty feet square. There is a glow on the rock now, competing with the glistening sunlight. The surface rock gives way to a metal covering, it opens. Bright blue light shoots out of a cavity, striking the encampment below.
The inhabitants are running wild, trying to clear themselves from the pyramid’s precincts. The beam strikes those that flee, vaporizing them. The inoperable crafts nearby are also hit, erupting in flames, melting to the ground. The remainder of the camp is ablaze in seconds. The light intensifies, assaulting the area once more, then it disappears. Smoldering ash remains.
The wind continues to howl, kicking up loose snow on to the black ash. It will not be long before everything is covered in white, erasing the footsteps of those who had ventured there. This is a secret that will be protected, one not meant for the likes of man.
The day will come when Persephone’s message will be heard by the one it was meant for. Soon, for the days of Virgo are numbered, the time of the Awakening is at hand. The age of prophecy begins.
Chapter 09: Homecoming
Waves crash on large jagged rocks on the side of a small coastal elevation, spitting up foam and mist. The outcrop of land rises fifty feet with a flat area at the top. A solitary tree stands in an open field leading to a light forest. This is but one tiny corner of the estate belonging to members of the House Badur.
This House is a noble one, which served the great king of Atlantis, but eventually, it faded away into a passive existence. Their old wealth has secured the family much prominence in the country; at one time they held sway through the Empire.
Lord Arias of Badur was a close adviser to the King; his friendship would eventually secure a governorship of the Far West Continent. Arias experienced some unfortunate events during the last five years there, which forced him to resign the post. He returned to the capital, married his childhood sweetheart, a widow at that time, then settled in the family’s ancestral lands. Together with his new wife and her children, he was content to leave public life.
Arias fathered one child, Alexius. Now a grown man, he is considered a disappointment, an undesirable to some of the nobility. He is only adept at being a warrior, an undisciplined one at that. This does not matter to his siblings for they love their brother no matter what, as Arias loved them as his flesh and blood.
Cassandra is six years older than Alexius. She takes after her mother, medium height, slim, carefree. It is too early to be riding, she chides herself as she approaches the solitary tree on horseback. Her flowing raven hair shines in the morning light. Her angry composure can only mean one thing; she is looking for her brother. Not today of all days, she exclaims silently.
Today
a funeral service will be held for the family’s Matriarch, Alexa. In her youth, she was a woman to behold, the youngest daughter of a nobleman, married to a commander in the Atlantean army. They had two children, Remus and Cassandra. They lived contently until revolt erupted in Egypt.
Alexa lost her husband to war. All seemed hopeless until one day, a young nobleman came to visit. Her childhood love, Arias, had returned from FaW-C, pledging to give up his adventures in far-off lands in exchange for her hand. She couldn’t refuse, not because of his station amongst the nobles, but because she loved him.
They were married in a lavish ceremony; in attendance was the King himself, and much of the poorer folks in the province. Life was excellent; the troubles of the world seemed too distant to disrupt their happiness. Then, Alexius was born.
Cassandra dismounts her horse by the tree, Alexius’ tree, she muses. There is a small mound of dirt near one of the protruding roots. Buried within is a set of climbing gear her brother used to descend to his secret pirate cave. It is undisturbed, leaving her to wonder how he got down there. It doesn’t matter; she will take the plunge.
The cave is an eighteen-foot drop from the top. From inside the vast ocean can be viewed in all its glory. At the cave’s mouth near the edge, Remus’ five-year-old son, Steven, peers down at the dark blue water. He looks at his sandals, wondering if he should let it take the thirty-two-foot fall. He is fearless just like his uncle.
Steven looks back inside the cave grinning. He pushes off the edge. As his little body drops a few feet, he is instantly hoisted back into the cave. Around his waist is a thin cord attached to a brilliant pulley system. The cord retracts just enough for him to dangle in mid-air. A device connected to a rail then transports him thirteen feet towards the interior.
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