Sarah fell back into the giant cushions, the softness enveloping her and threatening to send her off on a peaceful nap. Sarah yawned wide, arcing her back and pushed her self up into a sitting position.
I could get used to this,thought Sarah rubbing her eyes sleepily.
She sat in a large office room, high up in Zodiac tower. The scar light shone brightly through the glass walls a lit up the room nicely. Wisps of clouds brushed up against the windows as they passed. The room held a large table with artifacts strewn about. An aide sat on a small personal computer ready to record every word. Across the giant center table sat a row of artifacts lined up, inventoried, and ready for Sarah’s examination.
Another aide, a young man scurried forward trying to keep the cup coffee from spilling onto his expensive suit. Sarah took it gratefully and thankfully remembered to place it on the coaster this time. The older woman next to her gave a small appreciative smile. Shed made such a fuss the first time Sarah set a mug directly on the table. Huffing and puffing like her brain had short circuited. You would have thought Sarah had taken out a knife and was carving her name into the table.
“Ready” said Sarah and surprisingly she was.
Almost nothing was known about the ancient civilization of Atlans. The excitement and the age of the memories Sarah was viewing helped her ease into them with her powers making the experience much more enjoyable for her. . Historians fought on its exact location and the size of the empire, whether it had once stood within in the empty Basin of the Kolarin Islands to the west of the mainland or beyond the land of sovaria in the Black Sea. Artifacts regularly popped up in either ocean, too broken and aged to give up any of its secrets through modern methods of examination. Scholars argued that the people of Atlans had been technologically advanced to a level that baffled modern scientist. If that was true humanity had slipped backward it’s its understanding of the world, attempting to play catch up to a level it had already been at. Much of the magical community believed Atlan to have been the last time magic was accepted by the world. A dream that humanity could accept and connect with the unknown.
Sarah would be the first person in known history to really see the lost civilization of Atlans. To know what had actually happened. There was a cold fear undercutting her excitement. She didn’t just see people’s memories, she experienced their lives for that moment. The pain and the emotions diffused into her own memories, and she would have flashbacks for a time after, hence the need for self-medication. Materials and in organic objects were better. When she focused on a person, that was where the pain was. Even the age of the artifacts did little to dull the experiences, it just wasn’t as big of a shock to Sarah when it hit her.
It didn’t matter who it was, a scorned lover. a murdered bystander, a child going through an ordinary day. The moments carved by their emotions were seared into her brain forever. She took a deep breath and prepared herself. She hadn’t taken the drugs in 24 hours and the power was flowing faster, clearer. It was so strange to do this voluntarily. the money was good though. Nigel had even refilled her medication, a welcome surprise to find she wouldn’t have to deal with Kieran anymore. The man would be such a creep .
She leaned forward and grabbed a dagger off the table, focusing on the strongest imprint left by the hands that had touched it for longest.
Chelrote sweat under the bright light radiating down from above. A glaring orb sat blazing in the clear blue sky above, exposing the world below in its harsh gaze. Thin wisps of clouds blew in the slightly salty breeze, burning away in the heat. In the distance, birds called out sharply, cutting through the tranquil morning. Chelrote squinted at the intensity of the light. He lifted his hand and blocked the light from the sun.
The sun. That’s what it was called. How had he forgotten that?
He stood and wiped his sweaty brow, turning to the rest of his unit. The men around him stood at the ready, making no noise as they hovered at the edge of the city forest. They hid well within the foliage, weapons and clothing darkened to disguise their presence while their bodies were coated in Vesperleaf ash to mask their scents. Not that they needed it. Today’s guests were not familiar with the Celestian forests of Atlan nor the scouting units that guarded them. The garrisons at both ClearLeaf or Briarfate village could be called to the city within minutes. Not to mention the dozen cities across the island that could teleport soldiers directly to Celestial with magic. Still Charlotte fidgeted as he went through the list in his head. Nothing could go wrong today.
Chelrote flinched as a scurrying sounded above him and he quickly looked up. A squirrel jumped from tree limb to tree limb, oblivious to the startled hunter below. Chelrote looked back down and saw Jalor’s face, temporarily visible to him only, grin and nod as he noticed the animal above. Chelrote lost focus as the magic went back up.
Chelrote tried futility to pierce the veil set by his units mist walker. He knew the man was there but Chelrotes eyes seemed to slide right past the spot where the man stood . All he saw was a non-descript blur in the corner of his vision. Good, the spell was thin enough that it could be maintained for hours yet, maybe days for someone like this. Jalor was covering the entire group with his power, keeping them from being discovered. He was one of the Awakened, and as such had access to magics beyond anything Chelrote could dream of. Jalor only answered to Chelrote due to his royal blood. If not, it would be Jalor’s unit that guarded these woods. Chelrote knew though that he would never have the courage to purse the Awakening. A prince could not risk his life like that, better to use it in service of the empire. Not to mention what it did to the Awakened. The men who came back were not always those who went in. The change made them…. Unpredictable.
A soft wind blew through the forest, cooling Chelrote as he made his way from the ledge and towards the main road. Though he heard nothing, he know the men followed behind. Today was the arrival of the delegation from the Moon Fire empire, Chelrote smirked internally. No matter how long they lived on the lowlands, everyone came back home. Atlan was home. The final refuge for the remnants of mankind.
A breeze blew through the trees again, and Chelrote inhaled deeply. The smell of nature came through, mixed with the nearby city, and something else. The musty, clogging smell of horses. Chelrote let out a sharp, practiced whistle. It sounded just like the seraphyne, a bird native to Atlans. Nearby an answering whistle sounded once, then twice. The visitors were on their way, the click-clack sound of the horses hooves could be heard as they approached in the dead silent forest. After a moment, other sounds appeared. The clanging of metal armor and the sound of men talking. The moon fire clan had no respect for the nature around them, stomping in a single line, a pair of men cutting vegetation to make a path for the horses. Though they called it a road, it was no more than a dirt path through the forest. Years of travel through the same path trampling down the ground enough that nothing grew in a narrow band that wound around trees and brush.
They didn’t notice the scouting party as they progressed. Hunters lay hidden in the trees and in shrubs, aided by Jalor’s magic, waiting and watching the newcomers. The delegation consisted of a long line of nobles, led on horses so as not to get their clothing dirty.
“How much longer!” complained a voice from the back of the caravan.
“We’re almost there” replied a large armored man in the lead.
Shouts and laughing preceded them. This was a merry bunch. Here for the festivities and to mingle with the people.
A servant from the delegation reached the edge of the forest and walked towards the large doors that were, one of the few entrances into the walled off city. Stooping before the doors and craning back his neck, the doors towered three times the man’s height. He looked back uncertainly but what must have been one of the leaders motioned for him to continue. The servant cautiously raised his hand to knock on the great doors, when they shifted with a loud creaking. The servant scrambled back, cowering behind his master. Men shifted and horses snorted as they waited.
The towering gates groaned under their own weight, slowly parting as if pushed on invisible hands. It was as is time had torn itself into a paradox of epochs. Emerging from the shadowy depths of the city were figures adorned in clothes of glistening silver, materials that shimmered and sparked with an ethereal luminescence under the light of the sun. The sheen of the fabric bore a striking contrast to the natural surroundings of the forest, capturing the soft light in surreal prismatic reflections. Each garment was a meticulous marriage of ancient grandeur and lost technologies. The Intricately woven patterns glinted with minuscule glowing symbols. Along their lengths glowing blue stones had been sown into the material, powering the magics. The technology to make the royal clothing, to make much of the magic tools Atlans used, had been lost to time and could no longer be replicated. Scholars by the dozens worked to understand and recreate what they could though it took hundreds of of years to make the smallest breakthroughs. Some thought foregoing magic completely, especially those colonizing the lowlands, was the solution. They used innovation and engineering to create tools out of the materials around them. It was truly amazing what the human mind could come up with.
The royal delegation stood proud, their authority as tangible as the subtle hum of energy emanating from their royal regalia. With every measured step there was grace, a dignity that resonated with the rhythm of the ancient city. The queen led the delegation, her crown a circlet of iridescent jewels that pulsed with unseen energy, the very symbol of her city’s vitality. Her robes were a harmonious mix of vibrant, lustrous fibers and soft, liquid-like metal, painted an image of serene majesty. Behind her trailed figures of significance, advisers and guardians each bearing the heraldry of their respective roles. Queen Navera was a sight to behold indeed, sending the arriving guests into a frenzy of murmurs.
Watching from the hushed silence of the forest, the hunters tensed and watched the interaction. Though they did not fear for the queen’s safety, the moonfire clan were outsiders to Celestia. You could never trust another clans intentions, or their words. They had arrived ahead to scout and watch. The queen always welcomed the heads of each of the major clans from the lowlands personally. Already there was too much bad blood between the Atlans and their brothers who chose to claim this world as their own. The heads of all the Atlans houses had of course immediately made it known their own hopes of receiving similar treatment. Odar of house Teragel had gone as far as to send a list of sweets and treats he expected available on his arrival. The audacity had Charlotte clenched his teeth at the thought
The queen stepped ahead of her group and spread her arms in greeting, “Welcome back to Celestia Chief Garon. It is good to see you again”
The leading man dropped from his horse and stepped forward with a clanging of armor. He slowly walked up to the queen and dropped into a low and formal bow.
“Your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality and for welcoming us back to the homeland. It is an honor as always to be received personally by my queen”
“How go things within the Moon fire clan? The explorers bring less and less news from the lowlands” asked the queen as she hugged him.
The old grey-haired knight grunted.”Getting worse and worse your majesty.” he returned the hug and stepped back. “Followers of Hasreth are growing bolder. They burned down two of our churches and I hear they killed the mother of clan Ashwer. As their numbers increase, we find many of our citizens worship the old gods out of fear or coercion. Has the homeland been affected?
The queen nodded solemnly,” A gathering of our citizens were attacked as well. The culprits involved were chased to the Doren Kan. We found a public shrine to Hasreth there, they had been making sacrificial offerings for months before we stopped it. I pray that Loreth protects us all. I fear we have dark days ahead.”
A dark cloud seemed to cover her features.
The knight nodded solemnly “Your majesty let as talk of gladder tidings. I’m eager to be here for the twilight festival again and we bring gifts from below.”
The queen broke herself out of the dark feelings and smiled” Wonderful my son has not had the opportunity to experience your countries foods as my daughter has. I know he will love it.”
She raised her hands and clapped twice before speaking in a loud, carrying voice, “Chelrote!”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
With calm steps, Chelrote emerged from the forest, feeling the tingle of magic leave his skin as Jalor released the spell on him alone. To the newcomers it would appear as if he appeared from thin air. He heard a number of gasps and a woman’s shriek amid the ringing of several drawn blades. he calmly walked forward without worry and stood by his mother’s side. His own swords hung undrawn at his sides as he eyed the visitors. The knight gave an appraising look at the forest behind Chelrote before returning his attention. He gave a smile and offered his hand which Chelrote took.
“This my oldest child, Chelrote”
“An honor your highness, to meet the heir to the throne. “ the knight beckoned behind him.
Another knight, younger and smaller in stature, dismounted and approached them. The man gave a deep silent bow to first the Queen and then to Chelrote.
“My eldest son Vermilion”
“It is an honor your Grace. Your highness “he said in a deep baritone voice “This is my first visit to the Atlan. We have just arrived and already I am struck speechless at your wonders.”
Chelrote noticed that the man was focused on the clothing the royals wore. His manners were polite and there didn’t seem to be any menace coming from him, but his eyes were hungry. Like all lowlanders, their words and movements were polite, but the eyes showed the truth. The technologies of the ancients still existed in the highlands, but only as relics of a bygone era. Religiously protected and maintained, these symbols of the royalty were slowly giving way to the inescapable clutches of time.
The Queen though seemed not to notice. Eagerly she ushered the delegation in. Chelrote stepped aside. His appearance before their guests having been completed, he could return to his duties. His mother and sister could handle the diplomatic relations. His place was elsewhere. Once the last visitor had passed the gates, they closed shut and Chelrote gathered his men. Some he sent on to keep guard of his mother while others he sent to keep a close eye on the visitors. While the festivities commenced, he would guard against these men. They were families tied to the Atlan people in name only and rarely around without one hand in front to beg and another behind the back with dagger held ready to plunge.
Sarah released her hold on the dagger with a groan, her hand cramped where she had held it. This had been easier for her. The memory settled and old enough that it had been like reading an old story, slow and at her own pace. Newer memories were like a giant tv turned on to the highest brightness and loudest volume, screaming for attention. This was a new feeling. Much of Qorluna where she had spent her entire life was less than 100 years old. Rapid advancement and technologies leading men to tear down what was there before. Always trying to make something bigger. This dagger had to be thousands of years old. Where normally she felt pulled in multiple directions for minutes after a reading here it felt like setting aside the story with some effort and gentle reminder of who she was.
The woman next to Sarah sat straight, posture maintained for however many minutes or hours Sarah had been viewing the memory. When she saw that Sarah had come back to herself she quickly grabbed a pen and her notebook before waiting for Sarah expectantly.
“We’ll start with the first question on the checklist” said Belinda briskly, “Atlan or the mainland. If it’s the mainland, Stormcrest, Shadowvale, or Emberstone”
“This one was from Atlan, outside the city of Celestia”
Belinds smiled at that and that brought a smile to Sarah’s own mouth. She enjoyed being useful for once. Celestia was a gem no one had known about. The shining capital city of the country of Atlans.
Sarah began slow, telling about the memory as she had seen it. Relating the experience with as much detail as she could think of with prompting at times from the assistant. As she told the woman of Chelrotte, the story was recorded on the notebook in front of the aid. The woman wrote each note meticulously but rapidly so that sarah could continue without having to pause too much.
When Sarah finished the woman smiled as she folded her hands over the notebook,” Well done Mam.”
“Was any of that useful?”
“Hard to say right away but I’m sure it will be. The Moon Fire Clan is a well known ancestor of the Sylverdol people so im sure it would benefit us to research their history for any treaties or trade pacts made with allies and foreign lands.”
“But at least we know for sure that Atlan was real now”
The woman raised an eyebrow and glanced at the array of antiques and relics layed out before them, “ Honey we always knew it was real. At least Zodiac did and we are going to be the first to tell their story.”
Sarah nodded, excited to be helping in such an endeavor.
“Are you ready for the next one?”
With a nod of her head Sarah reached out and grabbed her next item, a large, triangular piece of thin metal that she couldn’t identify.
Elysia stood at the edge of the cliff, staring out into the azure expanse where sky met sea, her heart throbbing with the insatiable thirst for discovery. She was an explorer, a scout for the outer regions of Atlans, a sentinel who dared to tread where others feared. Her eyes sparkled with the reflection of the distant floating islands, each a treasure on the vast canvas of sky, floating like suspended jewels in the air. Giant behemoths of stone and earth that held dozens of cities and three times as many smaller villages throughout.
Elysia’s gaze turned to her vessel. It was an ingenious craft, built for speed and maneuverability of a single rider. It was more than a machine, it was an extension of her very spirit, yearning to venture into the unknown. Shaped in the semblance of the majestic Roc, the ship mirrored the bird’s formidably and grace. Sleek and streamlined, its metallic wings spread wide, ready for flight. Crafted form a blend of light, durable metals and composite materials, the ship was designed to weather the harshest of conditions.
The heart of the ship was its propulsion mechanism, a large, rotating fan situated at the back, a marriage of scientific prowess and artistic brilliance. Encased in a shell of reinforced alloy, the fan’s blades whirred to life at her command, generating a powerful thrust that could lift the ship and its rider into the lofty heights. A large blue gemstone sat within the center of the fan blades, shining brightly as it turned. The ship’s body was coated in luminescent paint that glowed with a subtle iridescence under the sunlight, an otherworldly vision against the vast expanse of the sky.
Secured to the center of the ship was the control panel, the ship’s brain, a marvel of Atlan technology. Elysia would be strapped into the cockpit, an open area with a comfortable saddle, her body becoming one with the ship. From here, she navigated the sky, her gloved hands dancing over the runes etched into plate of stone, steering through wind currents and around towering cumulonimbus formations.
Launching into the sky, Elysia guided the vehicle between the floating islands, their grandeur revealed in close proximity. Each island was unique, a world unto itself. Some islands were lush with verdant forests, their foliage a riot of colors that spilled over the edges, creating cascading waterfalls of flora. Others were rocky outcrops, barren and austere, yet exuding a stark beauty. Some bore the marks of ancient civilizations, their stone structures crumbling under the weight of time, holding secrets of the ages within their ruins.
Amidst the islands, Elysisa felt a profound sense of freedom and adventure. The crisp air rushing past her, the giddy sensation of flight, the thrill of discovery, it was all intoxicating. From the dazzling heights, she witnessed the daily drama of life and the unfolding of nature’s theatre; the aerial dance of the phoenixes, the ethereal glow of nocturnal blossoms, the silent march of the clouds across the great celestial dome. The shifting vistas from dawn to dusk, as the sun danced across the sky, painted the landscape in hues only the gods could dream of.
With a flourish of her hand on the control panel, Elysia tipper her vessel downwards, the Roc responding to her touch as if alive, wings folding in as they dove with exhilarating speed. Her gaze focused on the ocean below, the vast body of water shimmering like a blue mirror, reflecting the resplendence of the islands above. As clouds passed by and the ocean surface drew nearer, her heart pounded with anticipation.
Below her, the oceans surface sank suddenly as if a giant had scooped all the water out in a quick motion. The edges of the hole began falling into its depths and then began spiraling in a majestic vortex. The sea around the hold fell into it, feeding the vortex. At its center, lights began to rise out of the depths.
A colossal ship, a formidable leviathan rose from the depths, bursting forth with water cascading off its hull in a shimmering waterfall of light. The Atlan carrier was a behemoth designed to travel both the sky and sea, a true testament to Atlan’s unrivaled ancestral craftsmanship and technology. It dropped slightly after its rapid flight into the air before its fan provided enough thrust for it to continue traveling upwards.
Around the emerging giant, other smaller vessels zipped into formation, their movements precise and choreographed. Each was manned by a single rider, like Elysia. These were her fellow scouts, each with a tale etched in their faces and mirrored in their eyes, each a guardian of the Atlans in their own right. Their ships were unique, reflecting the personality of their riders, yet they moved in perfect harmony, a ballet of steel and determination. They escorted the scavenger ships as they traveled back and forth between the Emerald Gate, fallen now to the ocean floors.
Elysia scanned her comrades, recognizing each from their riding style and their ship’s unique designs. There was Taran, his hawk-shaped ship flashing silver in the sunlight, agile and swift. His rugged face was set in a stoic expression, eyes sharp and alert. Next to him was Elara, her ship resembling a sleek, gliding manta ray, the glowing patterns on the hull rippling in harmony with its movements. Her soft features were determined, a stark contrast to the fierceness of her eyes.
The carrier continued to rise, shedding the ocean’s embrace, its hull gleaming with iridescence similar to Elysia’s Roc. Its wings, wide and strong, were now fully exposed, poised for flight. Twin fans, much larger than the ones on their individual vessels, spun into action, displacing air with such force that it sent a tremor through the surrounding water, creating a ripple effect that made the ocean dance.
As Elysia neared, she aligned her Roc with the formation, falling in beside her fellow scouts. Together, they formed a protective ring around the carrier, escorting it back to the main island
The city of Zocalo was a sight to behold, a grand and sprawling hub of civilization nestled amidst nature’s expanse. Buildings, both traditional and modern, dotted the landscape, a testament to the harmonious fusion of progress and tradition, science and magic. Landing at the bustling docks, the air was charged with an effervescent energy as the formation touched down, their vessels folding their wings and hushing their engines.
From the belly of the carrier emerged a motley crew, each figure rugged and seasoned, their faces etched with tales of harrowing exploits and breathtaking adventures. They were hunters and mercenaries, their lives pledged to the dangerous and unpredictable, their courage matched only by their resilience. As they disembarked, they hauled with them the fruits of their latest expedition.
Giant bones, bleached by the sun and polished by sea salt, were carefully unloaded, their massive forms casting long, foreboding shadows. The bones whispered of gigantic beasts that roamed other worlds, their existence the stuff of myth and legends for most. Then came large jugs, sealed tight, sloshing with a mysterious liquid, its contents a secret known only to these hardened warriors. The jugs were carefully handed off, their every movement reverent and measured.
Lastly, the hunters offloaded bags filled with radiant blue rocks. Even through the thick, rugged fabric of the sacks, a gentle glow permeated, casting an ethereal light around. These stones were a rare commodity, their luminescence hinting at the untapped energy within, an energy that the Atlans had learned to harness.
With their cargo unloaded, the hunters gathered around, their voices filling the air with laughter and camaraderie. Elysia, unstrapping herself from her ship, approached them.
“Elysia!” shouted Elara, moments after unstrapping from her own vehicle.
The two shared a hug before moving to the side of the loading dock. Men and women came down the extended ramps. Jericho, the awakened magic user who had emptied the sea so that the ship could escape the depths, flew off above them in a shower of water, his task completed with the ships return. Taran looked after the old man in wonder.
“I wish I could awaken ” he bemoaned.
Elara smacked him sharply, “ Don’t talk like that. More people die than survive the trials and we cant lose you. You’re more likely to end up dead, or worse.”
Taran scowled at her, “You don’t think I’m good enough”
She shook her head, “None of us are good enough.”
He threw his hands up in the air, “Someone will need to attempt the trials soon. Jericho has already assisted the explorations for over 300 years. We can’t hope to depend on him forever. One day someone will need to help him. Who else is there? The only other who has the kind of magic required would be Hothar, good luck convincing him to do anything at all. ”
Elysia shook her head, “ we cant force the awakening. Who knows when someone will be willing to attempt the trials. Jericho is a saint for helping us like this. Without him, the city couldn’t go on. The number of pilgrimages to the Death Lands is going to keep decreasing if no one ever makes it.
Taran shrugged, “ The empress could help out”
The women gasped and glared at the man, “The first royal awakened in all Atlantan history and you would have her spend her time playing chauffeur. The audacity! If Jericho ever retires we will just have to make do as best we can.”
Elara returned her attention to Elysia, “ People are already migrating to the lowlands are they not. How goes it?”
“The moon clan has finally settled down, and I managed to stop at the heavenly basin during my trip this time. The monsters have been cleared out of the area to the south and the ShadowVale clan has begun to establish their own settlement.”
“What about the Karithans?”
Elysia shook her head sadly, “The shifting sands are unforgiving. The newest colony was swallowed during the day. Those that escaped were hunted down by wild Arthicans in the area.”
Elara shivered. The Arthicans were onlay a few of the magical beasts that roamed the lowlands. None of them were friendly towards humans, tending to lean towards the hostile. Explorers like Elysia spent more time than most in the lowlands. She helped travelers and colonists for the different tribes as they sought to colonize the wild lowlands. Many preferred to stay on the islands of Atlans but with the uncertainty in magic now, many were taking their chances within the lowlands. The cities were becoming over populated. It wasn’t a matter of should they colonize the lowlands but when.
Sarah let go of the metal which she now recognized as the wing tip of Elysia’s ship. She set it down reverently. Belinda waited patiently as Sarah got her bearings.
“I saw the blue stones. It looked like they were pulling them out of the ocean.”
“Really?” Said Belinda excitedly, grabbing for her pen, “ Do you remember anything significant about the location? Where this might have been? You’re sure the source of the stones was not Atlans?”
“No, I didn’t recognize where it was. They were someone over the ocean but thats all I could see. They were talking about places that I’ve never heard of.”
Sarah remembered the flow of Elysias thoughts , her memory still fresh.
“The Emerald gate. They were diving for a place called the Emerald gate.”
Belinda nodded and continued writing notes. After she was done she waved her hand for Sarah to continue. Though she hadn’t move anywhere Sarah felt exhausted already. Today was going to be a long, long day.