Shadows of Atlantis- Awakening

by Mara Powers

  “BRIGITTE?” LUKIAS CALLED frantically for his sister as he crossed onto the patio. “Did you feel it?” His eyes were clouded in a dreamseer’s haze. “I have felt this in my dreams,” Lukias continued, his voice edged with stress. “This time has been shown to me. Belial has returned to Atlantis.”

  At his words, D’Vinid regarded Lukias in bewilderment.

  Lukias continued. “Brigitte, I don’t think it’s safe for you to be out tonight. You should remain in your chamber.” He studied D’Vinid suspiciously. A spark jolted from the crystal on his chest. Lukias grabbed it in his fingers.

  Brigitte squirmed uncomfortably. Tears welled up in her eyes. She could feel the anger rising. “I am safe here, brother.”

  “I don’t think you are.” He snapped.

  With one last glance at D’Vinid, she stalked off along the bridge toward her assigned bungalow, her eyes aflame. Dolphins leapt from the water, following her path, chattering persistently. A planter of vines mysteriously withered at her passing.

  D’Vinid watched in awe.

  Lukias studied the dolphins’ peculiar behavior. His eyes blurred into Dreamtime, revealing to him the subtle currents of light swirling above the surface, the same currents dolphins could see naturally. He followed the light trailing around D’Vinid, and took a step back to widen his perspective. “Who are you?” he asked in amazement. The crystal pulsed on his chest. He knew what the crystal was trying to tell him.

  D’Vinid returned to tuning his dabrina strings with more attention than was necessary. “I’m no one special,” he muttered. “Just a musician. But your sister . . . No one makes dolphins act like this.” He stopped tuning and looked toward the planter of recently withered flowers. “She is not entirely human, is she?” D’Vinid thought about what Bavendrick said about his mother, Queen Dafni, and found himself puzzling over what it meant to not be entirely human. There were other beings living on the planet, but they did not mingle with humans as they had in previous ages. Queen Dafni seemed human. Elementals sometimes became human, but so did Watchers.

  “I know what my sister is.” Lukias shook his head. “But you, I don’t know. You are marked by the Watchers.”

  D’Vinid stood from his instrument, standing close enough to Lukias as to make the dreamseer shift his feet. “Free will is my master and mistress. I choose to live a simple life. I choose to not be marked by any Watchers. And it is my right to choose this.”

  Lukias traced the lingering subtle currents with dreamsight. They trailed after Brigitte as she disappeared in the direction of her bungalow. He eyed D’Vinid carefully. “My sister is the Moirae of our dreamclan.”

  “I’m afraid I’ve never heard this word before.” D’Vinid sat again and picked up his instrument.

  Lukias clasped the crystal at his chest. “Our people are the ancestors of Lemuria. We live on the border of Dreamtime, and we are the children of the Watchers. Very rarely, when Watchers are born as humans, they are called Moirae. They are the weavers of fate, and she has been chosen by virtue of being born.”

  “Chosen for what?” D’Vinid asked, growing irritated at the unfoldment happening beyond his control.

  “To judge the fate of Atlantis.”

  D’Vinid dropped his head and clenched his jaw, cursing his decision to get out of bed that morning. “I’m sure you’re both noble people. And you will do as you must. I would very much prefer to be left out of it, if possible.” D’Vinid struggled to speak the words. His interest in Brigitte scorched his soul. He tried to keep himself from shaking. This word Moirae clutched his heart in panic.

  Lukias eyed him questionably. “My sister and I were raised by a woman from Atlantis named Indrius. Does this name mean anything to you?”

  D’Vinid’s head tingled at the sound of the name. But he had never heard it before.

  “Where did you learn to play dabrina?” Lukias added.

  “I’ve always known.” He tuned another string, listening carefully for the proper tone.

  “Interesting,” Lukias smiled slightly, and without another word strode off in pursuit of his sister.

  Alone at last, D’Vinid lost himself in a chord progression. His head spun. Fragments of his dream fractalized in his psyche. Perhaps the dream had shown him the events of this day before they happened. He focused his thoughts on Belial. Being the patron of free will, he was the only Watcher D’Vinid felt comfortable praying to. Somehow the thought of Belial always calmed his mind. He felt as though he sat in the eye of a storm, plucking out a melody at the end of the world, somehow knowing it was a pointless project.

  Barely any time passed when Pan Aello crossed the bridge, triumphantly waving a piece of paper which looked like an official mediator document. D’Vinid made a point to make it clear he was being disturbed.

  “Ah, D’Vinid, my boy! It’s always exciting to have you around . . .” Pan chimed laughingly. His words trailed off as he noticed the dolphins leaping. He stood for a long moment at the railing. “What’s gotten into them?”

  D’Vinid shrugged.

  Pan shook the document. “I just received some news from the palace courier. I’m afraid you won’t like it. But let me assure you, I can turn this to our advantage.”

  “I don’t want to know,” D’Vinid flipped his hand dismissively as he frowned at the dabrina, hearing off-pitch notes in the perfectly tuned instrument.

  Not realizing D’Vinid was serious, Pan ignored the comment. “Apparently it has reached the attention of King Kyliron you are a regular musician at my court. So he is sending a general warning that he has ordered you to cease playing your music until you appear in formal argument before him.”

  D’Vinid stopped his task. His shoulders fell. Pan had said the key word to make his day the worst it could possibly be. Kyliron. He did not attempt to mask his anger. “Kyliron said what?!”

  “Now, now, now,” Pan comforted, taking a seat on one of the chairs, his fingers unrolling the parchment. “There has been an argument which has reached royal mediation this past week. You seem to somehow be involved with it. The Followers of One have been causing quite a stir. They have been saying on the streets that the madness is a punishment to Atlantis for our greed and selfishness, and we have gone down the path of our own destruction. Kyliron has made a decree their beliefs are counteractive to our peaceful ways.”

  D’Vinid smirked. “Well, they’re probably right.”

  “A-ha!” Pan pointed his finger. “The king has decreed they must be ordered silent until such time as he decides their dissent is not what is causing this downfall they speak of. There is a certain speaker in the Speaker Sect who has accused you of being a leader among them.”

  “All of this is written on this parchment?” D’Vinid laughed dryly. “This is outrageous!” He buried his face in his hands. Kyliron had made up yet another story about him. He lifted his head up to Pan. “How am I supposed to make a living if I can’t play music?”

  “Well, since I am your patron, I shall continue my patronage of you until the argument has been resolved. It is my duty, after all.”

  D’Vinid laughed again. “Kyliron has been out to get me for so long now. I don’t think he knows how not to hate me.” He pressed his fingers to his temples.

  “You grew up together. Was he always this way?” asked Pan.

  “We took many voyages together. Bavendrick and I were closer in age. Kyliron was the youngest, and we always tried to get away from him. We were like brothers all through our lives until Kyliron started making up stories about me. He always put me in the role of someone who was trying to undermine him. I finally got sick of it, and took off. I haven’t seen him since . . .” D’Vinid trailed off, staring out at the cove. “This is absurd. I can’t stop singing because of Kyliron’s personal feelings about me. He will make it political, because that is his only power over me, but I know why he hates me, and that is not political. I guess I can’t ignore him forever.” Again, Bavendrick’s words echoed in his memory. Perhaps Kyli
ron had indeed been taking out his anger toward him on Bavendrick. Now that Bavendrick was leaving, it would stand to reason Kyliron needed to redirect his rage to D’Vinid once more.

  Pan laughed and reached out to squeeze D’Vinid’s shoulders in a side hug, a dismal attempt at paternal comfort. “Why should you stop singing, anyway? It goes against our highest law of free will. I, of course, do not agree with our wise young king.” I do not wish to hurt your performance or my revelry. Therefore, I would still like for you to play tonight, and I would be happy to take the blame.”

  D’Vinid looked up suspiciously at Pan. “What do you mean? You would defy a direct royal decree?” He gestured toward the parchment in Pan’s hand.

  Pan smiled wickedly. “You must understand, your involvement in this is a political wish-come-true for opponents of King Kyliron . . . like me. And you forget, I am the king’s relative by bloodline, which makes me royal, as well. I do have a say in things, my boy.”

  D’Vinid shook his head dismally.

  “You have great influence among your fans, D’Vinid. Your voice going public about this forced silence would bring many important people into the argument. What is considered a trivial matter by Kyliron and his supporters could be his undoing. You know how Atlanteans detest the suppression of the arts!”

  “You don’t understand. Kyliron was my friend . . . Like a brother. I don’t want to have any part in this. I wish him no ill will. I just don’t want him to know where I am.”

  “Yet he has selfishly undermined your career at all stops. You have an opportunity to fight back. Why would you not take it?”

  “I can’t lower myself to his level.” D’Vinid paused in introspection. “But I can’t spend my whole life running from him, either. All I want to do is play music.”

  “And Kyliron has now managed to cut that off, as well. How much more convincing do you need to fight? Where is the limit?”

  D’Vinid scowled, wishing he could scream at the top of his lungs.

  “Unless you want to stop singing, I think you have no choice.” Pan squeezed his shoulders again, bobbing D’Vinid’s head back and forth. “Here. I noticed you were missing something. I wanted to bring this to you.” He produced a single dabrina tuning peg. A golden chain was threaded through the loop, transforming it to a pendant. “This was given to me many cycles ago by a lovely visitor. We had a bit of an understanding between us. If we could have known each other longer, we would have been closer. But we had a lovely evening of conversation, and she gave me this as a gift. She was a master dabrina player. Much like you.”

  D’Vinid felt somehow compelled by the story. He studied the peg as he wrapped the gold chain in his fingers. His eyebrows knitted as he held it up. Its jeweled brilliance stood in stark contrast to the faded pegs on his instrument, but it was an exact match. “Who was this visitor, again?”

  Pan smiled. “She was a bit of a refugee. My family was asked to protect her until she could leave the city. Apparently she had somehow offended King Koraxx. This is all I know.”

  “But what was her name?”

  “I believe it was Indrius.”

  D’Vinid choked. He was inclined to reject the gift, and yet he couldn’t. His dabrina was the only thing he possessed of his mother’s. The Watchers had finally acquired his attention.

  Singer’s song to silence meet,

  amid the shadow’s site to greet.

  Rest his head to quell the fear;

  the meeting of the muse is near.

  Magi whispers words of fate,

  flying to its primal mate.

  Underneath the dying lights,

  standing in the darkest night.

  Calling in the violet flames,

  they can find the shadows’ names.

  COURTIERS MINGLED IN the gardens, and occasionally wandered onto the bungalows to admire the shifting surface of the water below. D’Vinid ignored the noise of their incessant chatter. After many cycles as a court musician, he no longer felt interested in carousing with them. Instead, he silently observed their strange social games, taking note of the many dramas evolving daily.

  Pan’s revelries always boasted the highest fashion. It was a time of intricate feather collars and headdresses. Geometrical designs painted on skin, and decadent, jewelry made from stones and precious metals were a hallmark of the era. The musicians had not yet begun the night’s entertainment. D’Vinid waited by himself, leaning on the railing of a walkway, prepared to play out the night. But Kyliron would surely find out if he did. The notion of simply disappearing looked more and more attractive. These thoughts only further perpetuated the rise of consuming guilt he could not manage to shake.

  He tried to distract himself with memories of the kiss he had shared with the strange dreamclan woman at dusk, but the memory only brought him discomfort. His lips buzzed. Questions abounded. Was she really a Watcher like her brother claimed? What had possessed him to reach out to her like that? It was as if he could not control his actions or his words. She had awakened some kind of ancient yearning. If she was indeed a Watcher, it would make sense. She had bewitched him with her powers. But try as he might to resist, he ached for her to bewitch him again.

  He shuddered as a draft passed over. The air grew colder with the closing darkness. Hugging his body for warmth, he strode down the causeway, fighting off a feeling of being watched. He carefully examined the shadows as he passed. As each scrutiny found nothing, he began to relax his guard.

  A soft hand touched his arm.

  Startled, he let out a stifled yell, flinging around to face his assailant. A wave of shock knocked him off balance. “Loressai!” He clutched his chest, trying not to fall over.

  Loressai Torbin was the last straw of his adversity with Kyliron. He had not seen her since he walked away from both of them. She had in fact caused him quite a bit of resentment, which he had pleasantly forgotten, until now. Again he acknowledged the Watchers for their thorough and obvious web of clues pointing straight at all the unresolved aspects of his identity.

  He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here? Did Kyliron send you?” He marveled at how easily he was being played.

  Dark circles framed her once beautiful eyes, which now devoured him, flashing between anger and pity. “I am here with my father’s contingent who is here to consult with Pan Aello. I heard you were playing music, so I came to find you.” She frowned. “Kyliron and I have not spoken. What would I say to him? Sorry I drove a wedge between you and your childhood hero?” She had changed, but he couldn’t figure out how. Her olive skin seemed unusually gray. The fullness of her lips was slightly deflated. She almost had the look of the madness to her. He leaned in closer, reaching out to brush a lock of raven hair from her face. She pulled away.

  D’Vinid soon recovered from his reaction, and turned his thoughts to why she would be there. Her father, Torbin, was Keymaster of Subterra’s first layer. Their people were all initiates of the Luminari, who studied the inner teachings of Sophaiya’s wisdom. The labyrinthine tunnels beneath the city were their home. The first four layers were the intermediary between Atlantis and the Kingdom of Agartha, which governed the many aspects of Subterra. All who wished to travel to the surface had to pass through the Keys of the Luminari, and vice versa. There was a level of spiritual mastery that went along with living in Subterra. This afforded Loressai a deeply devout upbringing. Her vibrational strength was far beyond D’Vinid’s, and yet she had somehow slipped.

  “D’Vinid, I cannot seem to untangle myself from you no matter how hard I try. I am not surprised the Watchers have guided me here. I feel I need to tell you what has been told me.”

  D’Vinid cringed. His voice took on a satirical note. “Of course.” He lowered his voice. “When does it ever rain without flooding?”

  The power of her anger flared. “D’Vinid! I came to you only because I must. After the way you left me, I should never speak with you again.”

  “We angered Kyliron together,” he rebutted
. “When you shunned him to be with me, my entire life was forfeited. I have to endure his wrath for the rest of my life. He has loved you, and will continue to. But he would destroy me if he could. He’s still trying.”

  “What we did was both of our decisions. But it was your decision to leave me. You trivialized everything we risked, and, more than that, you broke my heart.” Her lips began to tremble. “I have made a mistake. I should not have come here.”

  D’Vinid softened as he felt her anger melt into despair. He touched her wrist, and when she met his gaze, there was tenderness in her eyes. He raised a hand to stroke her hair, and she began to cry softly into his chest. “I’m sorry. Loressai, I’m so sorry.” His life had become ruled by guilt, and in this moment it threatened to consume him. Long moments passed, rich with memories. “Tell me why you came to speak with me.”

  She pulled out of his embrace and clutched at the railing of the bridge. She was tall and exotic, with dark skin and slender curves. Her smoldering eyes had been his weakness long enough to kindle an affair between them. But they had been Kyliron’s weakness, as well, and this “betrayal” became D’Vinid’s last communication with the man who was now king of Atlantis.

  “D’Vinid,” she said in a low voice, shuffling uncomfortably. “The Fates have called to me, and I’m scared. Something bad is about to happen. The dreamseers of Subterra have been receiving many signs.”

  D’Vinid sighed out loud. “There are endless chains of wrong all the time. It’s just a question of how we choose to move through it.” He winked through the frame of his curls. He stood next to her and placed his hand on her back, remembering how she liked that feeling.

  Her body responded, at first relaxing, then doubly tensing. She turned away. “Don’t touch me again, please.”

  He held his hand up to show her it was nowhere near her. “Tell me what you came to say, Loressai.” He lowered his voice, trying hard to sound soothing. He had always failed dismally at easing the radical emotions of women.