by Mara Powers
“One of the dreamseers approached me today,” she pierced him with sharpened eyes. “She said I have set two friends against one another with my love, and they would change the world with their rivalry. She said one has become a leader on high, and the other is the chosen of Belial.” She looked at him meaningfully.
D’Vinid tried to seem cool as he absorbed her implication. He opened his mouth to voice a dozen protests, and quickly found none of them would solidify. As he watched, her body shuddered violently. He moved reflexively to steady her, but stopped as she tightened her grip on the railing.
“D’Vinid, I needed to tell you before I . . .” She trailed off. Her eyes focused in the distance.
“Before what?”
His words startled her, and she looked around as if surprised to see where she was. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Before the madness takes me. I am a monster, D’Vinid. I am not like the others who have the madness . . . I am something else. The dreamseer told me. There is another kind of madness. It is a possession. It enters me through my sorrow and anguish. Whatever this sickness is, it is trying to destroy all of us, and I wish for it to be stopped before it takes hold. But I cannot do it. I am lost. My anguish has consumed me. We are all in danger. It has infiltrated the Crystal Grid. We cannot escape.” She gestured with a hand trapped in a tremor. “I am telling you because you have the ability to stop it before it happens. This is why I was given this information, and why I was brought to you.” She noticed her hand trembling and a thick tear rolled down her cheek. “I must go, D’Vinid. You can save us all. Do not let us down.” As she turned to depart, he grabbed her arm, and in a harsh motion she yanked it away. “Don’t try and save me.” She burned him with her beautiful eyes.
He retracted. “Wait, Loressai! What could I possibly do? None of this makes sense.”
“Just follow the signs. They are right in front of you, fool!” she spat angrily. Her voice changed, sinking into a guttural tone.
He stood stunned as she disappeared into the darkness, a ghost of his past haunting him in the flesh. His emotions churned. He could not bring himself to feel sorry for her, knowing she was too proud for such pity. He wandered into Pan Aello’s garden grounds in a state of utter confusion, deciding the only way to possibly escape the Fates would be to pack up his belongings and slip away without a word.
“The chosen of Belial,” he murmured. A shiver passed over his spine. Belial. The name had been etched in his mind since he was born, or so it seemed. It repeated over and over again as if ethereal beings whispered it to gain his attention. Belial has returned to Atlantis. He clutched at his head, trying to shake off the voices as they shouted reminders of the ever unfolding story. In the water below, two dolphins gazed up at him as if expecting food. One of them chattered. He stared at them in a daze. “What am I supposed to do?” he muttered. And finally a tear escaped from his eye and rolled down his cheek.
BRIGITTE PACED THE guest bungalow like a wild animal. Gossamer silk drapes fluttered in the wind. Smells of blossoming flowers wafted across the open-air patio and into the single circular room. The air was cold. Such a sudden change in temperature was unheard of in Atlantis. The Crystal Grid did not allow for cold weather. It could only mean one thing, the Grid had been compromised.
She wrestled with the idea of how the return of Belial could trigger such a terrible omen. Belial was the bringer of all Atlantean knowledge. She decided to believe instead that whatever had already taken hold of the Grid was stirred up by Belial’s presence.
She wondered if it was the same enemy who had decimated her home. She wanted to retaliate, but she didn’t know how. Nothing would bring her comfort, so she followed her training and surrendered completely.
Slipping into a lotus position, she stilled her mind. Her eyes opened to dreamsight. In an instant, she was above the cove in dreambody, hovering like a ghost. She could see the courtiers, the shadows of their fears swirling around their heads, sometimes reaching into their bodies like tentacles. She watched in horror. The shadows swarmed everywhere, latching onto the people through dark holes in their auric fields. The people were all paralyzed, as if they had been bitten by venomous creatures keeping their prey subdued so they could feed. And the creatures’ food was fear itself.
One of them stood out from the others. Brigitte willed her dreambody closer to bear witness to its origin. It was wrapped menacingly around a woman with the dark skin of Atlantean natives. Her raven hair glistened in the moonlight. Her beauty and sexuality were obvious, and yet she was consumed in shadow. She stood next to D’Vinid.
Brigitte’s heart clenched.
The woman’s wounds were deep, and they had been festering. Dark cords connected her to D’Vinid, and stretched around her body, tightening harder around her throat the more she spoke with him.
But a flame inside her heart remained. The raven-haired beauty was fighting this possession.
Brigitte sobbed involuntarily for the woman’s pain, and sent a beam of golden light to ignite her heartlight. With Brigitte’s added help, the weak flame erupted. The dark cords withdrew from D’Vinid and closed back in to strangle the woman’s new found strength. All at once, she ripped herself away from D’Vinid and ran toward the entrance of the estate, dragging with her the shadow that had almost completely swallowed her.
“AND WHAT, MY friend, makes you think you can come here at the height of Ka-Ma-Sharri and interrupt my revelry?” Pan Aello flipped his hand dramatically toward Torbin, the Keymaster of Subterra’s first layer. He grinned widely, kicking up his heels on the desk of his private reception chamber.
A picture window allowed them a view of the gardens below. Pan surveyed the revelry, hoping to catch a glimpse of something delightfully scandalous. Torbin was a man of Pan’s age, though slightly older in appearance. He was of stocky stature with hair grown out long and smooth. This was an antiquated style, but it suited his features, so Pan chose not to chide his old friend for not being able to move with the times.
“It isn’t I who brings ruin to your revelry, Aello. But perhaps I can save it. This very night there is a convergence which brings our people into a great crossing of the Fates,” Torbin admitted solemnly. “This is the second of a tetrad of Ka-Ma-Sharri’s. It is the only one we will see in a thousand years. Imagine the power this brings to Sophaiya, and how it influences all of us.”
Pan leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin, letting himself sink into deep thought. He loved all things secret. The Order of Nexes always enticed him with its exclusivity. Torbin was also a member of the order, but obviously for different reasons. The man never made a visit without purpose. He only called on Pan in times of need on behalf of the order.
Subterra held the largest population of scholars. They lived beneath Poseidia in layers of caverns, eventually leading to the cities of Agartha deep inside Sophaiya. These scholars, called the Luminari, studied the archives brought to Atlantis by Belial himself.
“The signs are all in place, Pan. Belial has returned to Atlantis. It is time to prepare for what is to come.”
“Excellent!” Pan sat up, rubbing his hands together excitedly.
“Belial must enter through a human host,” Torbin spoke as he paced, his arms folded in front of his chest. “He will not return through the birth process. He will hide behind the identity of whomever he infiltrates. A living avatar.”
“A human host,” Pan contemplated, stroking his goatee with a smile.
“The violence and wicked energies flooding the city this night come as signs of Belial’s return. This leads us to the questions plaguing us in Subterra.” Torbin’s coal eyes burned into Pan’s. “Does Belial come at the same time as this evil? Does his return herald a greater evil? Does it come in pursuit of him? Or did he come in pursuit of it? No one can say.”
“No one except Belial himself.” Pan casually swirled an elixir in a fine goblet, then speedily threw the liquid down his throat.
Torbin nodded. “And so the riddle
is spoken. Is Belial evil? What is the debt we have accrued for the knowledge he has brought us from beyond the stars? And how will we pay it?”
Pan let out a bellow and broke the tension in the room.
Torbin startled and focused on the mediator’s impish expression. “Stop with the melodrama already! You’re letting your fears rule you, my friend. You forget, Belial is the liberator. His brother is the oppressor, and Sophaiya froze most of this planet to trap him. Has the lack of sunlight made you forget your history?” Suddenly struck with boredom at the tiresome speculations, Pan stood up and strode to the window, wondering what excitement he’d missed at his grand revelry. “You contemplate these things too much. The answers will come! Have faith in the Watchers. This knowledge Belial has given us is our birthright as humans on this planet! Atlantis is our gift. If we have gone the wrong way, it is only because all our people don’t have access to this knowledge anymore. It upsets our balance. We were the ones who let in this evil. Let’s not jump to conclusions about Belial. He is on our side! If anything, he has come to clean up our mess!”
Torbin’s expression flared and then dimmed. Perhaps Pan was right. But it still couldn’t distract his mind from the conundrum.
“Our existence is about leisure and pleasure and love,” Pan continued his rant. “We are not here to be afraid of ourselves. Our fear of the darkness is what makes it stronger! You need to get out of Subterra more often and into the light of Ra, my friend! Come now and enjoy my revelry. I have spared no cost to celebrate Ka-Ma-Sharri this cycle.”
Torbin’s seriousness melted slightly. “As always, your logic is impeccable, Pan Aello. But make no mistake. This tetrad of eclipses brings great magic to this world. We must guard ourselves. Atlantis is vulnerable.”
Pan stared inward for a moment, considering Tobin’s words, then strode toward the door with a gracious smile and the intention to leave.
A knock sounded as he approached. He threw the door open with a flair, intending to startle the caller. Allondriss waited on the other side, accompanied by a figure behind her on the stairs. She seemed unfazed by the immediacy of his response. She was used to his antics.
Allondriss was Pan’s favorite little toy from the servant house. Engaging a fair-skinned temple outcast from the house of servants bordered on black market affairs, but to appease the balance of karma, he had vowed to one day set her on another path more suited to her talents. Of course, he would always keep an eye on her. He thought of her as a daughter of sorts.
“Master Pan.” Her ocean blue eyes dug into his soul. “One of Master Torbin’s companions wishes to speak with him.”
Pan backed up with a sweeping bow to present them to Torbin, all the while keeping his eyes on Allondriss. The man who entered bore the emblem of a Subterra magi. His eyes were wide with anticipation. The magi bowed to Torbin and glanced hesitantly at Pan.
“You may speak for him to hear,” Torbin permitted with a wave of his hand.
“My friend! I am flattered!” Pan laughed. “Let’s hear what he has to say!”
Torbin knew Pan’s manner. He was not inclined to trust the scoundrel. But Pan was initiated into the higher levels of the Nexes Order, and thus entitled to their findings.
“Master Torbin,” the magi spoke gravely. “The convergence has begun here at this very estate.”
Torbin perked up. “Explain.”
“There is a powerful dreamwalker here on these grounds. We detected this just moments ago. It is a very advanced level of training. We would not have noticed it, but we were tuned to dreamsight to see what danger was here. We believe this could be a Watcher.”
Pan prepared another elixir, listening intently.
“We came here because we have detected a convergence heralding both dark and light forces come to Atlantis from Dreamtime,” Torbin explained to Pan. “I request your permission to have my magi seal off your grounds from shadows.”
“Shadows! Just what are you talking about? Will this convergence ruin my revelry? Is this dreamwalker a threat?”
Torbin squinted. “The magi will be able to sort it out once they cleanse the grounds. They will ignite the violet flame, and it will banish all shadows. Pan, the Grid has been infiltrated. We are suffering from an invasion none can see. The elders of the Luminari believe it to be the source of the madness.”
Pan’s hair stood on end. “Yes, do as you will. I would not want my revelry to be spoiled. I will not interfere with your work.”
Torbin turned to the magi. “Ignite the flame immediately.” He turned again to Pan at the magi’s speedy exit. “The Queen Impending is in the city somewhere. Our dreamseers have seen terrible visions of her demise. We have seen her arrival as a part of the light convergence, but the dark would see she is destroyed. So we have taken it on ourselves to find her.”
“You mean Kyliron’s betrothed, from the dreamclans?” he emphasized the phrase over-enthusiastically. “Why would she not go straight to the palace?” Pan seemed to have an idea. He fumbled with his clothing, comically intoxicated. “Perhaps she also suspects she is in danger, and has perhaps found refuge somewhere the Watchers deem safe.” He answered his own question with an index finger pointing upward.
Torbin nodded, amazed at the entire conversation Pan was having with himself. “By your leave, then. I shall go collect my daughter Loressai, and when the magi are done, we shall be on our way. It is imperative we find the Queen Impending before the convergence.”
Pan bowed dramatically and ushered Torbin out the door. After the Subterra Keymaster descended the spiral stair, Pan whispered in Allondriss’s ear. “Please see to the safety of our new guests at once.”
MUSIC BEGAN. ATLANTEAN classical music was designed to weave the delicate harmonies of nature and emulate frequencies from the universal spheres. It had evolved in modern times to a more primal reminder of human existence, with multi-layered rhythmic pulses as its basis. It had become popular at revelries to feature the dark, grooving textures of percussive instruments run through resonance amplifiers. The dance style to this tribal heartbeat music was an individualized expression of character and personal power.
D’Vinid, like all dabrina players, studied classical music. His unique musical contribution in his day was to run his instrument through the same resonance amplifiers to modulate universal frequencies. The ensuing soundscapes created melodic juxtaposition over the fierce pulsing rhythms. His legendary ingenuity had started a trend, and he was well known as the inventor of the fusion.
He struggled with his vow to avoid the Watchers as he fiddled with the dabrina peg he now wore around his neck. They knew him all too well. His thirst to play for the gathering courtiers tugged at his every step. But if he played, he would willingly offer himself to Pan’s plan. The last thing he wanted was to be in Kyliron’s sights. His desire for this not to occur far outshone his desire to play music.
The garden had been set up with swirling lights and long, draping streamers to disorient revelers and give the feeling of walking in dreamsight. Revelries were a cultural mainstay all through Atlantean history. They believed it to be their birthright as humans to enjoy the pleasures of sensory perception, while reaching for the bliss of higher consciousness. They had found the best way to do this was through revelry.
D’Vinid wandered aimlessly, pacing through the gardens in unsettled thought. He lowered his head to avoid laughing courtiers as they chased through the garden pathways. He thought perhaps an elixir would soothe his torment. Just as he had the thought, the path emptied into a small patio where a mixologist had set up a portable case of tiny glass vials.
Some of the courtiers were relaxing on cushions around the woman’s tiny costumed form. Her painted face glowed in the twinkling lights. Her eyes landed directly on D’Vinid as he appeared on the patio. She gestured a delicate hand toward an empty cushion. The other courtiers gazed up at him with eager eyes and mimicked her gesture, urging him to join in their intoxication.
“What is your
pleasure?” she asked in a singsong voice. “Are you sad and lonely?” She waved her hand over the vials, pushing their tops gently to make a fragile chiming sound as their various glass shapes clinked together. “Do you need me to slip you a feeling of sexual arousal? Are you longing to see the other side? Or perhaps you need some excitement and adrenalin!”
D’Vinid carefully thought of his answer. Pan had the best elixir mixologists, and any feeling he wished to have, she would deliver. “I need to not care.”
Her expression darkened. “This is a specific feeling you ask for. You have many things haunting your thoughts. Do you wish to forget? I can give you temporary amnesia.”
One of the courtesans rubbed his thigh and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Go for arousal. I will help you forget.” She giggled and fell back, landing in the arms of the man behind her, who caught her up in a greedy kiss.
A commotion caught everyone’s attention for a moment, but drunken agendas gradually distracted the crowd again. Refreshed and ornamented, the Aello twins swaggered into the lights.
“D’Vinid!” Kayden exclaimed with a wave.
D’Vinid returned the greeting with surrendered resolution.
The mixologist leaned in closer. “You are the Prophet Singer,” she whispered above the sounds of the sensual orgy erupting before them. “You are supposed to be playing music for us. Do you wish me to give you courage so you can do your duty for us all?”
He sighed heavily. “I am never nervous to play music. I am stuck. The king has sent a decree that I cannot play music until I appear in formal argument.” He tightened his jaw as he spoke and leaned in closer. “Do you have anything to counteract the feeling of guilt?”
She sat up straighter. “I see your struggle now. Perhaps then you should join the fray. It is Ka-Ma-Sharri. Maybe you can find your Kama tonight.”
His thoughts drifted to Brigitte. His passion swelled. “She is out of my reach,” he muttered.