Atlantis: City of Mages

by M. Arcturus

  Within their own cell, it had been a while since anyone had uttered a single word. Jarrah looked among the crew only to be met by long, thoughtless faces. It was hard to keep sane within the towering white walls. There was not even a crack to stare at for some subconscious comfort. After sailing on the seas for so long, continually walking on land was bad enough, let alone being held captive in a pristine marble-walled cell with no external windows, limited light, and trapped with the stench of men who needed a bath. Some of the crew had puked from the feeling of earth under their feet. Sailing for so long, and then no longer feeling the sway of the ship was a big transition that most of them had not adjusted to. Staring into the darkness across the way didn’t help matters either. Seeing their captain die before them was enough to silence anyone who dared to break the placidity.

  The only solace Jarrah had was that there must have been a water pipe hanging from the ceiling just outside of the cell door. Periodically, a drop of water fell to the floor, adding to the small puddle on the ground. Then again, there was that mysterious ray of light that graced Campanula in her cell. Maybe that was moonlight from the outside world. With that as a possibility, the dripping water might actually be rainwater from the recent storms. Now Jarrah wished he had stopped thinking. It was much easier to deal with the situation not knowing the potential of being so close yet so far away from escape. The sound of their own breathing, an occasional cough, and the cell across the way was no match for the thought of freedom. Nothing amused him now.

  Campanula slowly lifted her face up to the pale ray of light. The lights of her cell and the one across the hall still flickered as they tried to regain strength, but all the other lights had come back on. She stood up and stretched as high as she could go. Making herself presentable, she dusted off what was left of her dress and took her hair down from the braided bun. It looked more like a rat’s nest than a bun at this point. Running her fingers through her hair, she worked diligently to get out all of the tangles as she walked over to Resheda’s body.

  “I figured I would have to face you sooner or later. Not sure if I have an explanation for all of this. I just thought you should know that I never wanted to harm you.” As she spoke, one last Bennu bird exited her body through her feet and went up the wall to perch on the shoulder of Resheda’s dead body. Almost like a black, forbidding shadow of truth, it sat there and acted like it was Campanula’s judge, jury, and executioner.

  Campanula looked at it briefly and continued to speak as if nothing happened, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her calm demeanor. “I had no clue that the blood Juron was going to grant me would be Bennu blood. As I look back on the last words I said to you, before intoxication overtook me, I regret that I wasn’t more understanding. Realizing now that we didn’t have enough time to reveal all of our secrets to each other, I just wish I knew more about the cargo. Maybe, if I knew more about the girl, I would be able to fulfill your destiny. I’m not even sure what your plan was or what I’m to do with her. I do not want any glory; I just want you to see your journey completed so you can rest in peace, my love.”

  Campanula paused, looked longingly at Resheda’s pale, beautiful, yet lifeless face. She drew in one more breath, “Yes, I fell in love with you. I came close to asking you to come home with me to Oradea, but I see now that you had other business in mind. Not that you can answer me, but is the other girl pretty? Did you ever have feelings for me? Or were you involved with the girl? Would you have come back with me or would your travels have taken you too far away? I love you.” She leaned forward and kissed Resheda’s cold bloodied lips with a short, yet affectionate kiss.

  Resheda’s ghost came up behind Campanula. Now being taller than Campanula, she wrapped her arms around her friend and held her protectively. She hadn’t known that Campanula felt that type of love for her. She knew now, but wondered if she would have ever formed the same type of love for Campanula in return.

  As for her destiny with the girl, it wasn’t like that. The girl was worth a fortune to some, and life to others. Resheda thought about how she could have sold the girl to a warlord so their enemy could be destroyed. Auctions could have been created to lend the girl’s destroying capabilities to different bidders for a certain time frame. Or she could have kept the girl all to herself to destroy her own enemies. It was very challenging to see why some could not see the girl’s destructive power as a blessing. There were a few who would have paid quite nicely to have their king’s empire fall to the ground. To some, it was looked upon as liberation.

  “I was not in love with her,” whispered Resheda’s spirit into Campanula’s ear. “She was my key to fortune. I knew one way or another that she was worth a lot. As for returning love, I’m not sure if I could, but knowing me, I would have given it a try. I have a hard time answering that because I never thought about being with another woman until now; my heart has always belonged to the sea. Even as a little girl, watching the sea was my only solace. In that regard, I don’t think I could have lived with you in the hills of Oradea. I’m sure the winters are beautiful there. You’ll be home soon.”

  Campanula couldn’t see or hear her, but instinctively felt as if Resheda replied. Not fully aware if Resheda had said something, and feeling a little foolish for talking to herself, Campanula still felt compelled to respond, “The hills are very beautiful in the winter. Only three more months till the snow is thick and fluffy. I’ll be glad to be on my way back to Oradea. The sea is a long way away from the hills of my home. I doubt if you would have been happy, let alone stay.”

  The crew kept watching Campanula’s cell, just waiting to see what would happen next.

  “I don’t know if I have enough energy to do this. My breed doesn’t do this often,” is all that the crew could hear her say to Resheda’s hanging lifeless form.

  Campanula looked down at her bloodied hands as if she could see through them. From the other cell they could almost swear that for one brief moment, her hands grew to the length of twelve inches. Her body started to flicker as she wove in and out of visible existence. One moment, she was on the floor curled up in a ball, the next moment, she was slithering on the back wall of the cell. Her body started to change appearance. Her movement became so fast that the crew couldn’t see through the blur of motion. Occassionally, one of her appendages hit the glass door. As thick as the door was, the glass eventually shattered.

  As the tale of her astounding escape evolved over the course of time, rumors spoke of how she cried out like a banshee. Her voice was so high pitched that it was out of the human hearing range, and it shattered the glass of her cell door. Other rumors said that the thrashing around of her limbs at such a fast speed cracked and ultimately broke the glass, demolishing it, turning it into the grains of sand from which it was created. Though all that were present agreed that nothing was seen or heard except for the glass cracking, shattering, then crashing to the floor. As Campanula started to wiggle out of the cell’s entrance, a bird-like shadow escaped the cell, which quickly glided along the floor toward the main gateway ahead of Campanula.

  Campanula had used her anger from Juron’s betrayal to successfully invoke the vampyric demon within her soul, mutating her body into a ghastly humanoid creature. Long, bony fingers came out of the darkness and used the frame of the doorway to pull her massive body out of the tiny cell. Her hair was twisted and contorted into curved, jagged, points. Her eyes were glowing green with yellowish-brown centers, which spider-webbed out to the edge of the iris. Her legs had become a long fin-less, pointed, black tail, which looped several times behind her and glittered in the light. From the top of her head to where her tail started to touch the floor, she now stood about nine feet tall, though from her head to the tip of her tail, she was about fifteen feet long. What survived of Campanula’s sparkling navy-blue dress barely covered her torso. Besides the worn veil-like tentacles from her torn dress, she had very thin, see-through, tattered, faerie wings attached t
o her back. They were so thin that they looked a few shades lighter than her dress, and they gently swayed to and fro on the air currents caused by her movement.

  She slithered over to the other cell and peered in with elegance and intimidation. With her three-and-a-half-foot long fingers and six-inch nails, she cut a circle out of their glass cell door. She reached into their cell to break their chains. The crew all flinched and tried to flatten themselves, just hoping to be absorbed into the cell wall behind them, but Jarrah didn’t move. He didn’t even look up. He just sat there and waited for his turn to be freed.

  Resheda’s spirit drifted into the cell and stood in front of him. No one seemed to notice the ghostly figure in front of Jarrah. They were all too busy reacting horrifically to Campanula’s new form as she freed them one by one.

  Resheda whispered gently to him. “I never meant to leave you. I know how you feel. All alone, with no one left to understand you. You are the last of our crew. I barely even remember their names, but I will never forget their faces or the hardships we had. I guess I can’t remember their names because they were able to move on into the other world, and I’m stuck here.” Her form was not defined, but Jarrah could tell he was now looking into her eyes. “I will not leave you until we find out how to save you from this eternal threat of Hell.”

  Resheda faded away as one of the crew backed into her. The crew member was trying to avoid making eye contact with Campanula while making his way out to the hall. Jarrah looked up at Campanula when she neared to free him from his chains. Just by pinching the fingernails of her thumb and index finger together, she broke the chains. Their eyes met for one brief moment, and they cracked a smile at each other.

  “I’m truly sorry about what happened to Resheda. I may not have known her for long, but I loved her with everything that I have. What I wouldn’t give to see her one last time,” Campanula told him. She thought about what she had just said. The mental image of Resheda hanging there on the wall across the way made her feel a lump in her throat, “Well, you know what I mean—alive and well. Even an indication that she still existed would be nice.”

  Jarrah looked at her in surprise. Even though they didn’t seem to notice Resheda’s presence in their own cell, all the other members of the crew could see her apparition in the cell across the way, so why couldn’t she? Then again maybe she wasn’t cursed like the rest of them. None of the other pirates knew the story and fate behind the ship, but Jarrah did, and he hoped that Resheda would be able to find some answers before his time was up. As far as he knew, the wicked red sails would tear at his soul for all eternity.

  Campanula turned and started gliding down the hall. Her arms were crossed over her chest. Even with her arms crossed, her fingers arched off of her shoulders so far that the tops of her fingernails scraped gouges into the glass cell doors and the white marble walls as she passed. The noise was haunting and painful, but as loyal servants, the pirate crew followed her. Most looked down at the floor as if in disgrace. They had been injured, captured, and had seen their captain killed. Now they were following their captain’s executioner, wondering if they were doing the right thing.

  Her frightful presence shocked Pandora as she walked by. Campanula stared at Pandora for a moment, but moved on as if it was another empty cell. The sound of Campanula’s nails screeching on the glass could be heard down the hall, but as the noise reached her own cell door, it was much louder than she thought it would be. She tried to cover her ears with her hands, but the chains were too rigid. As she struggled to move her ears closer to her hands, the noise softened. Campanula had already passed on to the next cell. Pandora stared at the glass for a moment and could have sworn that the black and blue she-demon had almost cut through her door altogether. Then she looked over at Kajaka. His cell door looked like it had even cracked under the vibrations caused by her clawing. Pandora’s thoughts plagued her with bewilderment. Compared to the other cells, did Campanula carve deeper gouges into their cell doors?

  Campanula’s entourage peered into Pandora and Kajaka’s individual cells. They looked hollow. Their eyes were pale and ghostly. Pandora could tell that they had been through a lot—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Pride had been lost, and now their personal beliefs were being tested. Their world as they knew it had been torn apart and thrown back in their faces. Pandora looked back at them and knew they were fighters and this was only a setback. Once they obtained a chance to adapt, they would be off on their way to the ocean where they had their freedom and routine. Kajaka, on the other hand, looked a bit more dismal. His feathers were fading to a pale green. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and the Bennu that surrounded him watched him sadly out of concern.

  Jarrah was the last figure to pass by their cells. Though he walked with a limp, his head was held high, and it could be seen that a lot more would have to happen to him before his spirit would be crushed like the others. He examined the claw marks on their cell doors. First looking at Kajaka, he then turned his attention to Pandora. He studied her face and smiled as he looked down at the bandage on his knee.

  “I remember you and shall till the day I die. You’re a better fighter than you look. Not many could have done to me what you did.” Pandora looked at him with confusion, and then it hit her. She was the one responsible for his knee injury. She shoved a stake through it on the ship just the night before. He had remembered her, and he seemed all right with the situation. The medics must have repaired his knee for it to be usable, but from the way he walked, it appeared as if he felt it would give out on him with each step he took. Yet the look on his face was one of admiration, maybe even respect for her.

  “Fighting is not my strong point,” Pandora told Jarrah. “I only fight when there’s a reason.”

  He smiled once again. “Don’t we all?” he said with a deep voice, rich and full of seasoned fire. His reaction wasn’t overdone and dramatic, but more mature and comprised of understanding. “Neither of you is doing well, but your friend needs urgent care. Sooner or later, you’re not going to be much better than he is.” Pandora looked back at Kajaka. “Would you like me to help the two of you out? It looks like she has carved gouges into your doors deep enough to make it possible to escape.”

  “I can’t answer for him, but I need to stay in here,” Pandora responded. Jarrah looked at her questioningly. “I have a point to prove, though I would appreciate it if you could free Kajaka and get him to safety.” Shortly after she finished her statement, it was almost as if the earth was hungry, for there came a low, subtle rumbling. Jarrah looked at Pandora as she gave a little chuckle. Her amusement unsettled him. Before he could ask, Pandora explained, “My father is here.”

  Just hearing those words fall from her lips sent shivers down his spine. Though he knew he wasn’t in trouble, and way out of the line of fire, he sensed that her father wasn’t too happy. Seeing her smile like that told Jarrah that she would be out soon enough.

  “Very well, where should I take Kajaka?”

  “To the northeastern shore, there should be someone there to receive my father’s presence, most likely one of my friends. I’m not sure which friend it will be, but whoever it is, can and should be trusted. Once my father arrives, he will know what to do.”

  Jarrah’s heart hit his stomach hard, for he just realized that the one person he wanted to avoid was the one person she was sending him to meet. He never knew that he could react fearfully toward someone he hadn’t even met before. However, one who could move the earth wasn’t someone he wanted to mess with. He peered down the hallway to observe the crew as they neared the entrance to the jail to visually gauge how much time he had before needing to catch up to them. Campanula would need to be informed that he was going to take Kajaka to the northeastern shore. Noting that he had a little bit of time, he looked back into Kajaka’s cage.

  “Hey, how are you in there?”

  Kajaka didn’t move, bu
t the Bennu did. They all turned their hostile faces to the warrior and flared up their feathers, each giving off a slightly different shadowy tint in their flames. Jarrah slowly neared the cell.

  “Your friend across the way is going to stay,” he said, “but she wants me to take you to safety.”

  “I’m not going without her. She will not stay here alone,” came Kajaka’s delayed reply in a very low, tired voice. It was almost as if he was out of breath.

  Before Jarrah could gently argue, Pandora pleaded from her cage. “Please Kajaka, my father is approaching the isle, may even be standing on the shore. I’ll be set free soon, and we’ll see each other again. I promise.” When there came no response, she continued, “If you feel more comfortable, maybe some of your feathery friends can stay with me, but please, Kajaka, get help. You’re no good to anyone like this!”

  His head raised a little as if he was going to protest, but it instantly sank back down to his chest as he passed out. The Bennu looked at Kajaka, and their feathers began to recess into their shadowed bodies. They completely ignored Jarrah and watched Kajaka with panic and concern. Though Jarrah and Pandora couldn’t see their faces, they could feel the pain and panic as the Bennus’ eyes began to water. Then they started to cry the most sorrowful chirping sound Pandora had ever heard. Her heart was breaking in distress. They even started hopping around, looking at Jarrah and then back at Kajaka, frantically squawking as if saying, please help him!

  At the jail entrance, Campanula had her first encounter with the jail guards. Once the commotion started, Jarrah walked off down the hall without a word. Resheda’s last screams had apparently alarmed the Secret Guard. So, by the time he got down there, about thirty guards were trying to surround Campanula.