Shadows of Atlantis- Awakening

by Mara Powers

  “Anything is possible, I suppose. Though the Temple Sect have strict rules protecting against this sort of trespass.” Brigitte accessed the extensive knowledge instilled in her by Indrius. “There are many balances in play that give no priest this amount of power. They are born and trained to neutrality so they can protect the Grid. If one of them chose that path of darkness, they would be discovered and cast from the Temple Sect. It was the dark priesthood that caused the last destruction, so you can imagine the kind of safety precautions they take to prevent that recurrence.” She shivered. “What would make it possible is if most of them are corrupted from within.”

  “I would be interested in studying them more closely. I will find the heart of this corruption. You can depend on that, sister.” His eyes were dark with determination, set on finding his own road of retribution for the annihilation of their clan. His destiny to become high seer of their clan one day was now replaced by his responsibility for his sister’s safety, and bringing to light the shadows of Atlantis.

  They passed villas overgrown with vines and fragrant hanging blossoms, making the structures seem as outcroppings of the land. The sound of an approaching vehicle could be heard coming from behind as they entered the valley. They moved off the mound to let the vehicle pass. An older man appeared, floating on a hover-disc. A wire connected his disc to a larger sled carrying a covered load. A group of boys sat on the back of the sled with their feet dangling over the edge. Their chatting and laughter rose above the gentle hum of the vehicle.

  Eventually the mound joined with the market and led to the Grand Esplanade, of which there were two flanking the waterway. These massive roads merged at the end of the entry channel and became one road, leading straight to the central island at the heart of the entire metropolis. Children ran in packs along the streets among colorfully clad pedestrians. Vendors barked their wares. It was hard to distinguish between the clattering of goods, the bustle of foot traffic, the din of voices, and the hum of levitating vehicles. To a person used to quiet, such racket could be maddening.

  Traffic along the wide road parted at the passing of the travelers. Brigitte’s cycles of silent studies and teachings left behind any need for peace. She allowed herself to enjoy the excitement, and exchanged a glance with Lukias, expressing her secret hunger for this adventure. A flimsy purple scarf wrapped her wild hair. The scarf’s edges fluttered in the warm salt breeze whipping through the corridor made by multi-storied buildings on either side of the Grand Esplanade. She began to relish the elation of walking among crowds. The brush of their memories, hopes, and dreams rippled across the surface of her emotions. The feeling somehow gravitated to the core of her soul, and she bathed in it as if swimming through a sea of consciousness.

  During her initiation, the dreamclan counsel had named her Moirae. Among her many gifts, they said she was born to reach into the shared mind of many people at once, and somehow be able to influence their fate. She never knew what it meant until this very moment. A distinct sense of purpose began to settle into her mind as she walked along the esplanade, gazing up at the citadel’s towering center.

  They passed rows of shops and street carts nestled in sunken courtyards. Here, merchants displayed foods and exotic crafts for trade. Sinuous alleys and side streets wound off the esplanade. The crowd’s energy was thick with activity. Brigitte could hear their thoughts, a noisy chorus of intent, focused on purposes and destinations.

  It was alluring and overwhelming. She burrowed her face in the scarf to hide, even though not a soul took interest in their passing. She was amazed at the extent to which Atlantean telepathic presence seemed diminished. They did not have the awareness of the dreamclans, and seemed much more self-absorbed than Brigitte was accustomed to. The Crystal Grid kept them connected, though she sensed its very existence had made Atlanteans less aware of their once keen telepathic powers. The Grid seemed a mental crutch of sorts.

  She stopped in her tracks to watch an older man shambling down the street. Equally perplexed, Lukias also stopped to observe him. The man’s dark-rimmed eyes seemed to swivel in his head as if he had somehow lost control of their movement. His face was dimpled with creases, and his skin was blotched and faded. Everyone who passed pointedly ignored him. He begged for their attention in a nearly unusable voice.

  As he drew near, Brigitte could not bring herself to look away, and the very act of looking drew his focus. His swiveling, desperate eyes pleaded for her to give him comfort. His stumbling steps propelled him toward her. Instinctively, Brigitte reached into his mind. Tears stung her eyes as she felt the utter loneliness and madness holding him prisoner inside his own head. She opened her eyes to dreamsight and recognized the shadowy creature, which had attached itself to him like a parasite. Trembling, she stepped closer to Lukias. “Those shadows didn’t follow us. They were here already. These people don’t even know it!”

  As the man reached out to grab at her cloak, Lukias stepped between them.

  Brigitte could feel the suffering the creature emanated. She could tell it had become symbiotic with the man, feeding off his dark emotions, while at the same time stimulating them so it could constantly feed. A shudder penetrated the core of her soul.

  Desperately, she tried to stifle her own fear so she wouldn’t accidentally react, as she had so often done growing up. She remained transfixed, as the hand of another gripped the invalid from behind and turned him the other way. “Here you are, sir,” a stranger’s voice said calmly.

  Brigitte watched a man produce a piece of bread, which captured her assailant’s attention.

  “If you sit over there, you can eat this without being disturbed,” the stranger said, as if speaking to a child. Something about him seemed to soothe the helpless old man.

  As Brigitte examined her savior’s face, it lit up with a dashing grin, and she gasped at his stunning features. He was dressed in sloppy courtier fashion, featuring a loose-fitting tunic of dark green, tied at the waist by a thick sash. A feathered hat rested on a head of dark curls falling to the middle of his neck. The depth of his brown eyes captured her heart. His smile reached into her soul.

  “I see you two are new to the city,” he chimed in a cheerful voice, regarding their clan travel garb thoughtfully. “You should try and stay away from the madness. Some people say it’s contagious if you touch them.” He winked with a crooked smile. When he saw she didn’t find his humor appropriate, he shook both hands at her. “I don’t believe that myself, though.” He noticed her lingering shock with compassion. “I see you haven’t witnessed the madness yet.”

  Brigitte shook her head.

  Next to her, Lukias was taking subtle note of a set of overdressed twins who were watching their interaction.

  Brigitte addressed the stranger. “I don’t understand why they are not taken from the streets and cared for. Why are they just ignored? Why are they not taken to the temple healing centers?” she demanded, glancing at her brother, who had gone into a dreamseer trance.

  The handsome stranger began to fumble with a dabrina case he took off his back. “So many questions.” His teasing smile made her stomach flutter. “You see, the temple healing centers are full already. There’s not much that can be done about it, and they’re not much of a danger to the community, anyway, just to themselves. Although,” he leaned in, looking around to make sure no one could hear, “sometimes the warriors come through and take them. But no one knows where to.” He casually produced a long-stemmed red rose. “It has been said there is no cure. It’s rather sad actually, considering the advanced healing techniques of the Temple Sect. That man is probably someone’s father or mate. He probably wandered away, and they can’t even find him. Not that they would even recognize him if they did. The madness twists them into empty shells of what they were.” He shivered visibly.

  Brigitte felt drawn to the stranger’s carefree manner. She could not take her eyes off his face, and something about the rose caught her attention.

  Lukias focused
inward. His lips moved as if he were muttering. He fidgeted with a crystal pendant he wore on a long chain around his neck.

  The stranger’s eyes flashed. “Is that a soul-crystal?” His demeanor shifted. His eyes fixed in a half-trance.

  “I don’t know this term,” Lukias held the crystal in his fingers.

  “You should hide it.” The stranger shook out of the trance. “The use of soul-crystals is banned in the city. Tool-crystals are used all the time, but they are not the same as soul-crystals. This will be taken from you if a guardian sees it.” As if to change the subject, he thrust the rose toward Brigitte, smiling awkwardly. “Please. I would like for you to have this . . . as a . . . a welcome gift to Poseidia. That is . . . if your mate here approves.”

  “Thank you for your kindness,” she said with forced reserve. Something about this stranger was alluring and terrifying at the same time. With a gentle bow she accepted the rose, and a momentary vision flashed in her head, but faded in an instant. She blinked, staring at him in confusion. “Brother,” she muttered.

  “Excuse me?” The stranger leaned in closer. Her body buzzed at his proximity.

  “He’s my brother. Not my mate.”

  The rose glimmered in the sunlight. The vision lingered in her head: A magnificent tree in a moonlit courtyard surrounded by twinkling lights. A great hole in the base of its trunk enticed her. The same rose grew at the entrance of the tunnel, only there were four of them.

  The vision faded.

  “Well then, my lady.” He kissed her hand. A spark erupted at their touch. “I am pleased to offer you this gift. May it guide you and bless you. You will not find one of its like in Poseidia.” He spoke in a low voice and stared at the rose as if relieved to be rid of it.

  She could tell it was a thing of great rarity and magic. “Thank you for your assistance.” She made a sign of farewell. “Be well, stranger.”

  “It was my pleasure, my lady.”

  Everything about him turned her stomach in knots. She dared not look back as they parted. She resolved to try and forget how electrically peculiar he made her feel. As she brought her purpose back into focus, she thought it was just as well she would never see him again.

  As the sun sank toward the horizon Brigitte and Lukias reached the last neighborhood before the circles of the citadel. Here the market faded into residential areas where the channel branched off into coves surrounded by villas. Careful to blend in as they moved through pedestrians, they navigated by his dreamseer instincts.

  The crowd parted ahead to avoid a woman of stately composure standing in the middle of the esplanade. She wore a hooded overcoat falling to her ankles with wide sleeves almost touching the ground. The hems were lined with light blue embroidery. Its swirling patterns stood out from the dark blue of the fabric. Her hair was uncommonly blond for an Atlantean, though she had it covered with the pointed hood of her coat.

  She penetrated the crowd, focusing on Brigitte and Lukias with large blue eyes, which absorbed the world like a dreamseer’s.

  Lukias headed straight for her. “Greetings,” he spoke, bowing respectfully. It was the first exchange he had chosen to have since they entered the city. “I believe you are waiting for us.”

  She nodded slowly. Her glacial eyes studied the travelers. “I am Allondriss, servant to Mediator Pan Aello. I have seen you in my visions.” Her eyes bounced to Brigitte.

  “And you have been in mine,” he responded steadily. “I am Lukias, High Seer of the Oceanus Dreamclan. Will your mediator master receive us?”

  Brigitte flinched. It was the first time he introduced himself as the high seer of their clan. With their father gone, the title had become his.

  Allondriss hesitated, taken aback by the implication of his obvious dreamseer mastery. “Undoubtedly. My master is loyal to the Watchers and their dreamclans.”

  Brigitte found her station a curiosity. A fair-skinned maiden with such fair hair would be seen among the highborn Temple Sect, not as a lowly servant. Her mannerisms were deliberate, as a servant’s would be, yet graceful to suggest the delicate training of the temple priesthood. Neither did her clothing allude to a lesser status.

  To avoid curious glances, she led them through a side alley to the gates of a private estate. Allondriss peered back over her shoulder before running a crystal bracelet over the locked gate. The motion set off a clicking mechanism, and the gate swung open.

  “A stranger told us soul-crystals are banned for use here.” Brigitte thought of Lukias’s crystal, which she had not seen him wear until they were on the dreamship. “How is this crystal different?”

  Allondriss pulled it from her wrist and handed it over. “This is a tool. A crystal-accessor, to be exact. It is merely a hollow shell, because its telluric consciousness is harnessed into the Grid. Our entire Grid is run by crystals. Our hover technology is run by torsion-crystals and imprinters. These are all tools. We can connect with soul-crystals far deeper than we can with tools. Only the Temple Sect can use them.”

  Brigitte pursed her lips in thought, handing the bracelet back. “Is there a reason for this ban?”

  Allondriss smiled slightly. “One can take the official reason for truth. The technology was being abused by the few, and therefore forbidden to the whole. But then there is the unofficial reason.” She motioned for them to enter, then led the way through a tunnel of creeping vines that eventually opened to a breathtaking view of palatial gardens and serpentine paths. Their pace was no more than a promenade, which gave them the chance to absorb their surroundings.

  “What is the unofficial reason?” Brigitte pried, as they curved around a blue lagoon.

  Allondriss took a moment to examine Brigitte, pondering the openness of her mind.

  “It is said the rulers of Atlantis do not want the people to have their personal power, that slowly the rules have been changed to take it all away from us. But most say this is the stuff of paranoia. It is said these are simply stories made up to try and undermine the wise powers that govern us.” Her voice began to take a sarcastic tone. “The fact remains we have been denied the freedom to use the gifts nature has given us.”

  The main estate came into view along the edge of the water. Curving walkways extended from the house over the cove they had been following, bridging a series of stilted walkways and dome-shaped bungalows over the water.

  “My master is celebrating the Ka-Ma-Sharri. There are guests at his court for the three days of the festival. He is very fond of revelries.”

  Lukias motioned for her to lead on. “If we may see him in private . . .”

  “I will be happy to arrange that,” the servant answered, her blue eyes surveying them carefully.

  Having grown up with her brother and father, both dreamseers, Brigitte understood the subtle intricacies with which they conducted their affairs. They seemed to be aware of everything without even speaking. Allondriss had the same look to her.

  Everyone knew the name Aello, Mediator Pan’s ancestor. She was the younger sister of Queen Celeano, ruler of the third generation of the third royal dynasty. More importantly, Princess Aello was a famous athlete, and inventor of a popular sport called fireball. King Kyliron’s rule was the seventh generation of the dynasty, so, therefore, Pan Aello was a direct relation of the royal family.

  Atlanteans of the noble bloodlines associated themselves with ancestors to a point of worship. They believed in the power of bloodlines, and prided themselves on the accomplishments of their progenitors. They often took the first names of their most famous ancestors as surnames to carve out their station. Pan Aello was surely riding on his ancestor’s fame by carrying the name Aello.

  Brigitte imagined his line was substantially influential despite the controversy of the Warrior Sect, whose prestige was due only to the popularity of fireball. War and violence had become taboo subjects in Atlantis. King Koraxx, the recently retired sixth king, had activated the warriors as a guardian force to enact his decrees. This was the first time in the
Third Age of Atlantis when the warriors were used for anything else besides the spectacle of sports. Koraxx’s guardians were controversial and silently despised by most Atlanteans. It was hoped his son would retire them, but as of yet, all of Koraxx’s decrees remained in place.

  Allondriss held her slim body erect as she guided them along the waterline toward the main house. They reached a round, black door, inlaid with golden etchings. Brigitte studied the symbol, running her fingers over the edges of golden glass embedded in dark wood.

  Allondriss watched, curiosity overcoming her aloofness. “You like the artistry?”

  “This pattern is familliar,” Brigitte mumbled.

  Allondriss’s expression darkened. “It is the symbol of the Order of Nexes.”

  Brigitte glanced toward Allondriss, speaking softly. “Nexes. Given to the people by Belial. The key to the Crystal Grid.” She felt a familiar tingle in her limbs. Belial had been a name that had always captured her attention. “Is Pan Aello a member of the order?”

  “It’s always fashionable to discuss Atlantean origins among social circles. My master tries to be the most fashionable at all times,” answered Allondriss. “The order is an elite society of families who follow the ancient teachings. This symbol can be found throughout the city. It is built into everything.”

  “The teachings of old Atlantis,” Brigitte’s voice flew away. “A fascinating subject.” She traced the outline of the symbol, a compass rose overlaid with two triangles, their points facing up and down to form a six-pointed star. Two serpents coiled up the center of the compass. Twelve stars encircled the symbol. A memory appeared in her mind. Allondriss’s eyes remained on her.

  “The serpentine mother of all knowledge and wisdom, as given to you, o children of the sun, by the nations of light beyond the stars!” Brigitte delivered the passage from Belial’s Cantos, breaking the spell with her cheerful lilt.