Shadows of Atlantis- Awakening

by Mara Powers

  The entire vessel was an homage to Queen Dafni, who was said to have been turned into a tree by the Watchers. D’Vinid was always honored to be connected with the queen. He had never met a woman like her. People often asked him if he believed the queen had suffered such a fate. He would never admit his answer. But he had always thought it to be the most insane rumor he’d ever heard. Although now that Bavendrick had admitted his suspicion about his mother’s otherworldy origins, He was beginning to doubt his own thoughts on the matter.

  “Ah, D’Vinid! Just when I thought I’d never see you again.” Hanonin’s voice sailed out from the bar. D’Vinid shot him a sharp look and closed the distance between them. There were about a dozen guests in the main parlor who sat quietly conversing. All eyes landed on him for a moment, then looked away again.

  “One day, Hanonin, I promise you I will walk out that portal and never return.” In truth, he never wanted to leave his home. And since they had the same home, they had always tolerated one another, despite their deep-seated disdain for one another.

  Hanonin produced a royal parchment from behind the bar.

  D’Vinid shuffled his foot on the ground and clenched his teeth, trying to fidget away the frustration.

  “I see you know what this is.”

  D’Vinid nodded and sat at the bar, his eyes downcast.

  “Look, D’Vinid. I’m a fan of the day you finally get out of my hair and stop bringing me into your many troubles.” He rolled up the parchment. “But as far as I’m concerned, I haven’t received any royal decree.” He lifted up two empty hands with a pronounced look of innocence. “If you wish to play your shows, I will allow it to happen until they tell us in person to stop.”

  D’Vinid smiled.

  A woman sat at the smallest table overlooking the channel. Her booted feet rested on another seat, crossed at the ankles. A delicate glass filled with amber liquid lightly balanced between a gloved thumb and index finger. Her look was that of a seafarer. Practical, yet stylish, her fashion could easily denote a commanding officer.

  Her chameleon eyes had been fixed on him since he entered the ship. Loose dark curls spilled out from under the blue scarf tied on her head. A smile crept onto her lips as his eyes landed on her. She flipped her head to summon him with many layers of telepathic awareness. He had no choice but to obey.

  “Let’s see,” she declared seductively as he ambled into earshot. “How long has it been since I saw you last?” she laughed infectiously. “I do lose track of time.”

  His eyes stayed on her as he found himself wondering what yet another ghost of lovers past had in store for him. Ofira Pazit was indeed a ship’s captain. And hers was the most rare kind of vessel, one of the legendary dreamships of Atlantis. D’Vinid had known Ofira most of his life. They had both traveled the world over many times, often crossing paths randomly in ports across the ten kingdoms.

  All sea travel through the kingdoms required the navigation of temple clergy. Every ship was assigned its own temple navigator, who would call in favors from the Watchers and the elements. In that sense, all ocean travel in the Atlantic was regulated. But dreamships were another story entirely. They were known as servants of the Watchers, and this put them outside Atlantean regulations, even in Atlantean waters.

  D’Vinid smiled as he placed his dabrina carefully against the wall. He eyed her with a rascal spark, while positioning himself to sit where she had rested her feet. He carefully raised her boots to place them in his lap. She leaned back, admiring his every move, and shifting the weight of her feet to balance on his legs.

  “You get better looking all the time, D’Vinid.” She swirled the elixir in her glass, and took a dainty sip, just enough to evaporate down her tongue. He found his desire ignited by the sensuality of her lips.

  “I could say the same for you, my dear Ofira.” He wrapped his finger with one of her curls. “I may have even seen your ship arriving yesterday.” He thought of the ship of clouds he spied on the horizon as Bavendrick was escorted away. “What brings you to Poseidia this time? I’m always curious about your adventures and agendas.”

  “These days I seem to always be doing errands for the Watchers.” She looked at him severely. “Do you realize the dreamclans have been attacked? Dreamships are in terribly high demand. So that makes me quite busy.” She spoke abruptly, chopping her words.

  D’Vinid began massaging her calves. Her words melted into an unintentional moan.

  “And so, I take it you’re still on an errand from the Watchers?” he dug his fingers deeper, hoping against hope she would answer to the contrary.

  “I have done my work for them for now.” She encouraged his touch and stretched her arms back sensuously. “I’ve decided to stay awhile and help out the conclaves.” She searched his face for a reaction. He managed to appear calm, though inside, his stomach churned. The Watchers and the conclaves were currently his two least favorite subjects. And mention of the dreamclans pushed him to the edge of impatience.

  She leaned in conspiratorially. “I feel there are some things I should show you.” With eyes fixed on him, she produced a crystal vial from the pocket of her overcoat.

  It was filled with fine white powder that sparkled when it caught the light at a certain angle. “This is my work when the Watchers aren’t calling me off to save dreamclan dignitaries, which I’m fine with because it keeps my karma clean.” She handed it to him. “Keep it. My ship’s hold is filled with cases.”

  “This is sha’mana,” he marveled.

  “The treasure of the Watchers. The purest of the pure.”

  He recoiled from it. “I can’t take this. Kyliron is on a blood hunt for me. If they find it on me, I am done forever.”

  “Just consume it now,” she laughed.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because the treasure of the Watchers is meant for all of us. We are the denizens of Sophaiya. It is our birthright to receive her gifts. Just as Atlantis is our gift.” She leaned in closer, brushing his ear with her lips. “Yet someone is taking our gifts from us, and for some reason we are letting them.”

  D’Vinid pulled his ear away, trying to fight back the passion she ignited.

  She leaned back in her seat again. “Have you gone through the blue-dream awakening yet?”

  “All I know about this blue dream is that Koraxx outlawed it, and Kyliron is implementing punishments for its use.” He was growing increasingly uncomfortable.

  “You really aren’t aware of the movement? The Children of One? I can’t imagine you wouldn’t be.”

  “I know of them, of course. I know they call themselves the conclaves, and I know they operate in secret. I know they call their initiation the blue-dream awakening.”

  She shook her head. Amusement shone in her chameleon eyes. “For someone so well connected, D’Vinid, you are behind on what you should know.”

  “I can’t get involved. Particularly right now. I would only be a danger to them. The less I know, the better.”

  She grabbed him by the arm and leaned closer. “All the more reason to be involved. The conclaves can hide you. The king would never find you again. Or maybe you should just join up with my ship if you’re determined to hide. I’m barely involved. I just help the conclaves. Besides, even if he wanted to, the king could never catch a dreamship.”

  “And work for the Watchers? No, thanks,” he snorted.

  “It’s not so bad as you might think. I do their bidding, which has always suited me well, and in turn they grant me more power than I could ever use in my lifetime. I choose to share it with those who need it.”

  “And where do you get this sha’mana from? This belongs to the Watchers. You’re stealing from your own bosses, who can see everything.”

  She slapped him on the forehead. “Wake up, D’Vinid. They give it to me. I have earned this gift from my bosses. Believe it or not, some of them want us to have it. Belial wants us to have it. I earn it more than the Temple Sect does. I choose to allow the
conclaves to use it, because that is what is right. The Children of One are born with powers. They are a genetic upgrade. It’s confusing for them because they are not supposed to be this way. Only Temple Sect are supposed to have these powers. Once they begin taking sha’mana, they can access the telluric intelligence of Sophaiya and begin to understand themselves. Otherwise, only the Temple Sect have the means of training those born with the gene. This lovely dust opens a channel for them, so Sophaiya herself can teach them.” She handed the vial back to him. “I encourage you to begin taking it.”

  He sighed. “Why does everyone want me to take gifts from the Watchers?”

  She dropped her feet to the ground and examined him closer. Her eyes had multicolored facets. She had the wily shiftiness of a free-marketeer, and yet her heart was pure.

  He thought of the decree associating him with these mysterious youth conclaves, although the king did call them the Followers of One. D’Vinid didn’t know much, but he knew apparently what Kyliron did not, that the conclaves were more than their predecessors who followed the Law of One. The Children of One were an entirely different animal. An earlier thought returned to him; perhaps he should have existed in Atlantis’s golden day. The Law of One was the only principle followed by the people back then. His imagination sparked.

  “D’Vinid, you were one of the greatest heroes during the foundation of the conclaves.” Ofira ogled him and shook her head. “You practically invented being a hover-trickster just by who you were during the renegade revelries.”

  It seemed like another lifetime to him. He barely remembered. He had been punished by Koraxx for his participation in the renegade days. He had abandoned that world so completely that he had nearly forgotten. He shook his head as if trying to wake himself.

  “You mean the conclaves started back then?” He scratched his head.

  “Like I said, I travel in Dreamtime so often, I really don’t know how long it’s been. But I remember those days like they were yesterday. You are a legend to them.”

  A thought occurred to him. “Do you suppose that’s why Kyliron wants me to answer for the conclaves?”

  Ofira rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers in a spiral. The movement of her fingers made another crystal vial appear out of thin air. It was filled with a blue elixir. “All the more reason to see what you helped create,” she said with a wink. Everything she did was seductive, down to the way she spoke in a whisper made just for him. She held the vial enticingly between her thumb and two fingers. “This is the blue-dream awakening. It will make you see the signs which lead you to the conclaves.”

  “You distribute this, too?” He didn’t pretend to hide his apprehension, and made a careful survey of the parlor to see if anyone was watching. No one seemed to be paying attention. “This is contraband. You put yourself in danger being around me, Ofira.”

  She waved the blue liquid enticingly. “It only affects those who have the gene. You can disappear, D’Vinid. Dreamship! Remember?” she reminded him teasingly, thrusting a thumb out to the water ring. He looked toward where she gestured. Nothing was there except a black mass of swarming sea birds above open water. He knew she had a different perspective of the world than most. She was above Atlantis’s laws in many ways. Being a servant of the Watchers had its perks. He thought about what it would feel like to be completely free of Koraxx’s laws and Kyliron’s wrath forever.

  He slowly reached out to take the blue elixir. She snatched it back just before his fingers closed around it. “Before you take this, I must warn you. It comes with a price.”

  He threw his hands up. “A price? First you’re luring, now you’re haggling. Make up your mind, Ofira.”

  “It has a cumulative effect. If you have the gene, once you go through the awakening, you will never be able to return to ignorance. The blue-dream elixir has a base of sha’mana. It will prepare your body to receive the activations that will come with consuming the treasure of the Watchers. It will send you into the vortex. You may want to think about it.” Her smile betrayed the pleasure she got from giving her warning.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why does everything always have to be a riddle with you?”

  “Because we are dealing with Dreamtime.” She had the kind of face that always smiled. Hers was a quest to find joy and happiness, and somehow she always did. He knew her position as captain of a dreamship made her formidable. Since she had given herself to the Watchers, D’Vinid could never love her. But unlike other lovers he’d had, she never needed him, and this was why he soundly trusted her.

  He nodded, closing his eyes. “You’re right. I need to think about it.” He tried to hold his breath steady. Fear gripped his throat. “I don’t know enough about this. What’s the vortex? What is this gene you speak of?”

  “Remember when hover-tricksters first started operating hover-discs off-mound? We could feel the telluric lines. We could charge the torsion-crystals with our auric field. We didn’t need the road mounds to operate continually. That is the gene. We’ve discovered that thousands of people have been born with it. It’s an evolution. We can access the Archives Nexes, D’Vinid. We don’t need to go through the Temple Sect anymore. We can activate our mindlight, and become one with the Grid. As for the vortex,” she smiled again deliciously, “you will just have to wait and see.”

  Hidden in the dream of blue,

  changing what is false to true.

  Whispers of the secret kind,

  summon forth the steadfast mind.

  Riding on forbidden time,

  what lies beneath may undermine.

  AN ORANGE SUN climbed to its height on the third day of Ka-Ma-Sharri. The city wallowed in a languid sloth from the previous night’s celebrations as two silver streaks approached Poseidia at blinding speed. They skimmed the surface of the ocean, skipping like flat stones hurled by a Watcher or a giant from the wild lands beyond the sea. A closer look revealed two ancient flowcraft from the Golden Age of Atlantis. Not many possessed the influence to acquire these powerful vehicles, which gave Atlanteans the ability to navigate every element.

  The flowcraft neared the entry waterway, and sped up to spring themselves into the air off one of the ocean swells. On each craft, a lone rider leaned forward with palms resting on crystal spheres held aloft by metal pedestals. A red cape billowed from behind one of the riders as the craft took flight and shot like an arrow straight for the heart of Poseidia. In the air, they diverged, and one banked to the right, circling around the palace to calculate its point of entry. The other banked left. Despite their tremendous speed, their turns began to gracefully slow their descent until both encountered one another in a tight spiral and came to a hovering stop in front of the palace’s main entry.

  The drivers exchanged salutes. The red-caped rider pulled the gloves from his hands finger by finger and nodded at his companion, a woman of dark skin. Her hair was woven into numerous tiny braids. Both wore goggles.

  He peered up at the gigantic entrance looming ahead. Two silver colonnades with bases of alternating orichalcum and gold, marked the entrance to a silver brick path, framed by ornamental trees and bushes. Vines climbed tree trunks, displaying throngs of flowers in every imaginable color. The pathway branched off into garden walkways, and trees grew in a tunnel of green foliage.

  The man directed his flowcraft down the silver path, ignoring the calls of servants who begged him not to. His dark companion followed. The path opened into a floral courtyard. They came to a stop before a series of silver stairs ascending to a landing where a set of double doors were framed by two towering colonnades. They were approached by palace guardians as the flowcraft sank slowly to the ground.

  “Don’t bother trying to move it,” the red-caped rider proclaimed arrogantly. “I am the only one who can activate it.” He lifted the goggles and placed them on top of his disheveled head, pushing his hair back into an unkempt array. Sure of step, he bound forward on an urgent mission, bursting past the guardians into the palace. His dark-ski
nned companion remained ever at his side, casting a menacing presence.

  The room beyond boasted a magnificent domed ceiling of rainbow-colored glass. Sunlight poured through windows, creating fragments of dark colors lighting the room in a prismatic mosaic.

  The floor, inlaid with abundant Atlantean metals arranged in geometric precision, formed pictures and patterns inside triangles and octagons. A platform rose well above the tallest head in the place. It was made of solid orichalcum, looking like an ocean tumbled by imaginary winds. Oceanids, horses and sea creatures made up the crests of the waves, as if they were one. Sea nymphs and nereids could be seen playing flute-like instruments. Some were laughing, and two were splashing at one another in joyful frolic.

  Steps curled up either side of the platform in the form of sea folk holding up their hands in solemn offering. On the very top rested an empty chair of gold, held aloft by two beautiful women emerging from golden waves, their hair flowing into the tumult. Two dolphins formed the arms of the chair on either side. The room stood silent, but for the echoing footfalls of the invaders. They stood beneath the fractal rainbow shards of filtered sun, and regrouped as two guardians approached them.

  “I have no time for this. Deal with them, please,” he moaned to the tall black woman, whose savage beauty sprung to life as she faced the guardians, now trying to block their advance. Her voice reverberated through the domed room to announce their intent to the guardians.

  Never skipping a beat, his booted feet strode down the glass corridor leading off the royal audience chamber. The red cape flared behind, billowing with the force of his movement. With the guardians deterred from their path, his companion caught up and followed him to the inner sanctum of the palace.

  He pushed past every servant who stepped in his way, sometimes twirling and ducking to avoid their touch. Finally he burst into a large, oblong room where glass walls offered a view overlooking a garden paradise below. Sunlight spilled through geometrically cut windows. At its farthest extent, the room featured an elevated stage with a luxurious throne seemingly suspended over the garden.