by Mara Powers
He nodded and prepared to leave the room, but stopped, thinking better of it. He regarded the high priestess soberly. “I don’t wish to burden you with more bad news, but I have something else to report . . . about the king.”
She waved him on, preparing herself for whatever he might say.
“The king has prepared to request ancient war technologies from the archives. It seems he wishes to activate the Fire Crystal.”
The news did not disturb her placid face, though she closed her eyes for a drawn-out moment. “This is curious information. How do you know this?”
“One of the king’s scientists reported it to me. He was terrified we may break his anonymity. Since he is afraid to testify publicly, we don’t have enough evidence to take the king to public mediation. I do not blame the scientist for this. Priestess, this has bolstered our suspicions enough to identify a pattern in the king’s actions. He is much like his father. I fear he is poising himself to use Atlantis as a weapon.”
She began pacing. “I wonder what he plans to do in case this request is denied by us. Of course humans can no longer possess the knowledge of the Fire Crystal. Perhaps he should be reminded why the Temple Sect and our knowledge have been cloistered in this age. The young king must know he does not possess unlimited power. Even if he is backed by the mediators, we overrule him in temple matters. It seems I should arrange to educate him personally.”
“Priestess, with all due respect, if the dark priesthood is on the rise again, then he may be able to go through with this. We must take precautions. We can trust no one.”
She glided toward the window, placing her hands on the sill. “Our first priority is to the preservation of Nexes. We can rest assured the Watchers are aligned with our cause.”
Silence engulfed the chamber, and the tranquil sound of rushing water could be heard in the distance. Golden sunbeams filtered through the windows. The stillness caused them both to pause and reflect on the many peaceful cycles Atlantis had seen during its third age. But it seemed this peace would soon be at an end.
She drew a long, steady breath and looked suddenly resolved. “If the Queen Impending has indeed arrived, she will possess the power to make this right. This envoy of the dreamclans must take her place immediately at the king’s side. It is obvious she is cunning, and the Fates are on her side. If all this is indeed a gesture for the king to rid himself of his betrothed, he will dare not strike again. This move would be too obvious. What we can do to protect Atlantis is activate Nexes Lockdown Protocol.”
A look of dread suffused Ilorian Thoth’s face.
She turned toward him and beckoned. He covered the distance between them and gently grasped her hand. Together they stood gazing out the window at the sunlit glory of the temple grounds.
“This is the only way to protect ourselves, my friend. You must understand this is the right decision. We must begin by activating the lost temple children. They may still be able to help us all.”
He looked at her skeptically. “I have always thought them to be a rumor.”
“There is certain information only a high priestess can know. Just understand this is the generation they are meant to activate. I have watched for signs of their natural development. I watched as Koraxx expanded his campaign to hunt down those who demonstrate genetic upgrades. But rest assured, my friend. These children are meant to be. They are the last hope for all that we hold precious. I have hoped Kyliron would abandon his father’s obsession. If he does not abandon this crusade, I’m afraid I will have to step in.”
He contemplated her words carefully. They stood in silence for a time until he spoke. “Very well, priestess. I will see to it the lockdown protocol is prepared.” Ilorian Thoth bowed deeply and kissed her hand before reluctantly turning to begin his tasks.
BRIGITTE AWOKE TO a gentle tapping on her door. She popped up, gasping as she realized her nakedness, in the same instant recalling she no longer possessed her heart, her purity, and perhaps even her soul. Anything that would have bound her to her future mate had been utterly stolen, and willingly surrendered. She looked around frantically. D’Vinid was gone. A wave of confusion washed over her. What had happened? She remembered those eerie orange eyes and a feeling of effervescent love. She could barely contain the blissful feeling in her heart, though a sinking dread began to surface in his absence.
The tapping persisted.
“In a moment!” she called, hoping beyond reason it would be D’Vinid. She threw on her overcoat and cracked the door to peek through. Allondriss greeted her, calm and poised, her golden hair pulled into a braid, hands folded within the wide sleeves of her coat. Her clothing bore a mark of the Warrior Sect, undoubtedly Pan’s symbol. Brigitte ushered the young girl inside and closed the door.
“Hello, Allondriss.”
“Good morning, mistress.” The fair-skinned servant lingered curiously.
Brigitte sighed, feeling D’Vinid’s absence acutely, and crumpled on the bed. “What can I do for you?”
“I have come to see if you require anything for your journey.”
Brigitte traced her finger along the stitching of the pattern on her bedding. “Perhaps a way out of all this. Is that something you can do for me, little dreamseer?”
Allondriss looked ahead steadily, biting her lip. “I am not a dreamseer.” She lowered her eyes.
“Then what gives you premonitions?”
The question startled the girl momentarily, but Brigitte somehow made her feel comfortable. “A gift of sight, perhaps, but I am not trained as a dreamseer. There is a difference.”
“The Watchers can be cruel when they direct the Fates,” Brigitte smiled wickedly. Her attention blazed on Allondriss with eyes far older than her human cycles. “My guess is the Fates have interesting plans for you.” Brigitte began to warm up to the girl. “And tell me, young seer. What path would you prefer? A path more predictable and measured?”
The girl kept biting her lower lip. It was unusual for anyone to ask her so many personal questions. She summoned the courage to open up. “Mistress, my choices have never been my own. My mother made sure of that from the moment I was born. She sent me from the Temple Sect in disgrace to be traded as a servant with lowborn citizens. If not for the kindness of Pan Aello, my shame would have been unbearable. This is the most I have spoken of her in cycles.”
Brigitte looked at her with a depth she had seldom experienced. Being a servant had always kept her more or less invisible.
Narrowing her eyes, Brigitte perked up, “And why were you cast from your order, Allondriss?” She slunk to a sitting position on the bed, feeling more sensually alive than she had ever been. “What reason did your mother give you? She wouldn’t do this without giving you a proper reason, would she?”
Allondriss bowed her head. “She cast me out of my teachings with disgrace because I questioned the order of the temple, mistress.” She paused. “I was impetuous. I always questioned why the Temple Sect was set apart from the rest of Atlantis. In the first and second ages, every Atlantean had temple teachings. Now we are born into it like royalty. I have always thought the priesthood should be available to anyone. I had many other ideas, but this was the main one. I was supposed to follow my teaching without question. Ingenuity is said to lead to the dark priesthood. Thus I was cast from my order, and even forced to leave the sect altogether.” She looked nervously at Brigitte, uncertain of how the news would land.
Brigitte sighed. “It could mean one of three things. Either you are some kind of radical who has learned the error of her ways, or the Temple Sect is unreasonably strict. The other more likely reason is the Watchers have arranged one of their curious paths to align things for a moment in the future.” She rolled out of the bed. “If your mother is a direct servant of the Watchers, as my people are, then you and I are merely servants ourselves. Therefore your mother’s action is a literal means of teaching you one simple lesson.”
“What is that, mistress?”
“That
you, too, are a servant of the Fates. Once you understand this, you will have merged with your life purpose. And here we are,” she smiled ironically. “You a temple outcast, and me a dreamclan woman in Atlantis. Both of us servants. Neither of us living the life we would choose.” Brigitte chuckled, making a move for her scattered clothing.
“And what life would you choose?” asked Allondriss shyly.
Brigitte was unsure how to answer. She had always accepted her fate, though it was beginning to frighten her beyond reason. Another knock sounded at the door, saving her from having to speak. Allondriss hesitated, studying Brigitte intently.
Brigitte smiled. “I hope my words are helpful.”
Allondriss nodded quickly. “Yes, my lady. They are.”
“Now, I suppose you can answer the door,” Brigitte cocked her head compassionately, a smile brightening her beautiful face. “Not because you’re a servant, but because you’re standing right next to it.”
Allondriss paused before opening the door, allowing Brigitte the chance to straighten herself.
Pan Aello’s grinning face greeted them. Another servant accompanied him with a tray of food.
“Might I share a word with you as you eat your breakfast, my lady?” he asked, his voice pitched to a delicate volume.
Brigitte nodded. Pan waited for the servant to leave. Allondriss stole another look at Brigitte and followed the other servant into the garden, which had somehow grown more lush and bountiful overnight. Pan shut the door as they left. “Let us be honest with one another. Last night there was a murder in our fair streets. Your brother said there was danger, and he was right. But it was not just any murder, but a mass slaughter.”
Brigitte gasped. “Who?”
“It was the temple contingent sent to fetch the Queen Impending who had arrived in Poseidia. But this dreamclan queen is nowhere to be found. I am not a stupid man, my lady, and the Watchers are never without purpose. They trusted me, and so can you.”
She sighed. “If I were to tell you I am this queen of yours, what would you do then with the information?”
“I would be your servant and true friend for entrusting me with such a secret. But I already know this to be true. You are King Kyliron’s betrothed.”
“Then I will hold you to your promise of friendship.” She offered her hand.
He took it up gallantly, and bowed, touching it to his forehead. “Your Majesty. I am honored to receive you in my estates. The Watchers were right to send you to me. I can help you.”
“And I thank you for your generosity. But I am not yet queen. My journey has been barred. Something does not want me to take the position. Not that I was meant to take the position in the first place. I was raised to be queen, although I always thought his brother would be king, and I would be a lady of the court.” Her thoughts drifted to D’Vinid. What had she done? Hands trembling, her eyes landed on the rose. Its petals remained crisp and fresh, although she had neglected to place it in water.
“We all thought Prince Bavendrick would be king, my lady.”
They stood in silence for a time as she examined the small feast of fresh fruit on her tray. She had always held tight to her slipping idealism, battling her tutor Indrius’s harsh teachings. It was always preferable to spend her life in denial, embracing instead the quiet of nature, rather than the intricacies of Atlantean socio-political, economic, and historical facts. But all of this had been destroyed in a single evening of terror when dark shadows descended on her people to ruthlessly consume them all. “Who killed the temple contingent?” she asked, shivering.
“It is not known.”
“I am so sorry.” She sank down on the bed, her eyes fixed darkly on the floor. “They were after me.”
“You must have protection. I can see this now. I will see to it you are granted whatever warriors you desire from now on. This is all because of the madness. We grow farther away from who we truly are every time someone separates from the Grid in favor of free will.”
Brigitte glanced up.
He continued. “If we connect to the Grid for a few moments every day and night as we are supposed to, we contribute to the mental power illuminating every aspect of this city. People are starting to believe they have the right to refuse illumination rituals. But this, of course, makes the rest of us work harder. Having a small amount of discipline every day to connect to the nodes keeps us connected to the collective.
“The rulership of Atlantis has fallen into the hands of people who have proven to disregard the Watchers and the laws set to guide us in this age. King Koraxx repeatedly used his birthright to disobey these laws of nature. He has started a trend of disregard toward the ways of our ancestors. And now the madness has swept across the land. It’s because people have disconnected from the Grid! I can promise you this. We have gone terribly wrong, my lady. I fear your task will not be easy. The Watchers are not as highly regarded as they once were.”
Brigitte scowled. “Watchers hold the keys to time and space. Their actions can’t always be understood, but they are for the best, because they see outside the scope of what humans can perceive. They hold the best interest of Sophaiya eternally. Everything that happens is guided by them, regardless of whether it is believed by humans or not.”
“I think you will find many Atlanteans have replaced their faith in the Watchers with the worship of free will,” answered Pan.
“Humans are creators of our worlds just as Watchers are,” Brigitte smiled as she spoke. “Watchers are subject to the laws of nature just as we are. If they guide us along a path, it is because they see a future that is best for us. To choose to have faith in the Fates is to choose an easier life, guided by faith. By choosing free will, Atlanteans have demanded to be the masters of their own Fates, and so have taken control, but they have refused to take responsibility for their mistakes. Then they have the nerve to curse the Watchers for their self-induced suffering, when the Watchers merely promote oneness with the laws of nature.
“Atlanteans worship free will as if it were a deity, but it is not everything. There is a ground upon which we stand, and a history we are living, even with every action you and I take. We will be remembered for these times. The laws of nature are unerring, and no matter how much we become masters of the Fates, we are still subject to these laws.” She brushed a lock of hair from her face, chuckling at his thoughtful expression. “Forsake the Watchers if you must. Control your own Fates, if you wish, and blame your mistakes on them. But I would beg you, do not underestimate them. They are as old and as young as time itself, and they see things we can barely hope to understand. They do not encroach on our free will because they cannot intervene. All they wish is to preserve humanity. And they do so with the neutrality of the laws of nature.”
Pan nodded, amused at her brilliance. “Your words are wise beyond your cycles,” he bowed. “And welcome in my presence. What I will say to you, my dear, is the line of Atlas is not so bright and glorious amid their distaste of the Fates. There are many things amiss in our governance. I do hope you find the power to help us. I am in your service, my lady. You have but to call on me, and I shall respond.”
“Thank you, Pan Aello.” She hesitated. “There were magi here last night. Who were they? They seem to know how to combat these shadows.”
“They came in search of you, in fact. To help you. They were from Subterra. I am in league with them, as well. Again, you have but to summon me.”
“I would like to speak with these magi at my court. At their convenience, of course.”
“So it will be done.” He handed her a crystal. “This is a summoner. You have but to activate it, and I will receive the call.”
She carefully tucked it into her pouch and nodded. “I will always remember you were chosen as my friend by the Watchers. You have my trust, Pan Aello.”
WARRIORS ARRIVED AT Pan’s estate. The group was silent, led by a tall man with a broad chest. His face was painted black and white, and peered out from beneath the shr
oud of a shadowed hood. His eyes knew the face of death as if they were created by that force. He examined the courtyard with passive menace. Three warriors accompanied him, hovering silently, looking as if they were perched on the edge of a rapid motion.
The warrior leader’s name was Stixxus. They were from the Fury League, who harnessed the power of pure rage in their fighting style. The group approached Pan and his guests as they prepared to depart on their foreboding journey.
Brigitte and her brother stood at the entrance to Pan’s gardens. Lukias watched his sister carefully, trying to seem casual, knowing he had allowed her to step down a treacherous path. He watched her fidget with the rose she still carried, and wondered why it remained crisp as if it were still growing from a bush.
Brigitte watched the warriors with blazing intent, her mind set only on the future. She had studied much about the controversial Warrior Sect. Atlanteans detested their violent history. Violence had been blamed on the previous two cataclysms, which destroyed the previous eras and separated the continent into islands. Atlanteans denied the presence of the warrior spirit, and pushed everyone with violent tendencies into the segregated Warrior Sect. Warriors lived in an existence designed to harness the violent nature of humanity. Only those who had reached a high level of control were permitted to move among city folk, and then only when activated on official business.
Brigitte examined the hardened expression radiating from Stixxus’s black and white painted face. His dark eyes watched them with curiosity buried beneath disciplined complacence. Pan met the warriors’ advance, his arms open in welcome. Stixxus’s response emerged in deep, rasping tones barely audible above its nearly whispered resonance. Once negotiations were completed, the warriors stepped aside.
Pan faced his guests with a look of triumph on his impish face. Allondriss stood at his side, her hands buried in her sleeves. Her blue eyes devoured the scene.
“As you can see, I’ve done as I said I would. Let us not forget one another, then.” Pan clasped his hands with a clap, drawing in a pronounced breath through flared nostrils. A flowing gesture summoned Allondriss to his side. “I would like to send Allondriss with you. She knows all the paths of Poseidia. Allow me to offer her as your personal guide during your time here among us.”