Thursday, December 29, 2011

Son of Atlantis: Atlantis Trilgy Book I


Chapter 1
SNAKES

copyright August 2011

courtesy of Christopher Pelletier
& DLJ Publishing, LLC

Kylos stretched out on his back in an open grassy field, his hands stroking the smooth blades which bent without resistance. A lilac-scented breeze shifted the surrounding green spear points to and fro in the gentle rhythm of an afternoon dance, and the sun’s warmth caressed his face. Although the presence of predators was always a danger in the wild, he did not sense any nearby, so he relaxed and enjoyed the day. In the distance, he could make out the trumpeting of elephants over the rustling of the grass.

He rolled over to his stomach on the soft earth and propped himself up on his elbows to survey the land through the grass. A wall of old oaks stood off to the west and dark mountains lay to the south. Snow-crowned Mount Atlas was by far the most prominent peak.

With an eager push, he got up and stretched, taking in a healthy dose of the fresh air. His desire to see different sights conquered his lethargy, so he tromped through the knee-high blades in search of new scenery and any sort of adventure he could find on the way.

He did not know his destination, but that did not matter. This was his time. School and his father did not hold him back. Curfews and strict rules did not apply out in the wild. Being away from the big city refreshed his spirits, but he wished Peleus could be with him.

Adventures are always best shared, Kylos thought.

His excursion took him to a river where a group of three middle-aged women and a girl who looked to be his age were doing some laundry in a clean, gurgling stream. They stopped their labors to take a look at him.

“Greetings of the day,” one of the women said to Kylos.

He nodded and replied, “Greetings.”

“It’s a good day for laundry, eh?” another one asked with a smile.

“I suppose it is,” Kylos said looking at the sky.

The young girl looked up from her work and stared at him. The soft lines of her face were framed by her long raven-colored hair which dropped unbraided past her shoulder blades. She gave him a smile, and Kylos fidgeted in place, but managed to smile back.

“Care to help us?” the first woman asked with a grin.

“I don’t know how to do it,” Kylos said, not really wanting to help.

“It’s easy. Come here, and I’ll show you.”

Kylos meandered through the grass, taking his time to make his way to the group, and stooped down just at the river’s edge. The woman threw a soaked blue garment at him. As he caught it, water droplets pelted his face and she said, “Just dip it in the water.”

Then the woman tossed to him a hunk of soap, which he caught with one hand but dropped on the ground because it was slippery. The woman bent over the running water and demonstrated what should be done. Kylos did his best to copy her by immersing the tunic in the river, applying the soap, and then rinsing it off.

“There, now you’ve got it.”

Kylos could sense the girl watching him, so he looked up. She was still smiling at him. His cheeks were feeling warm, partly from being embarrassed about doing the older woman’s work, and partly because he felt nervous about the girl watching him the way she did; but he kind of liked it.

A tap on the shoulder startled him. He jerked his head around and found Ballero, a classmate of his, looking down at him. Ballero cackled and said, “What are you doing there, Kylos? Slave work?”

Kylos threw the tunic into the river and stood up as dignified as he could. “They asked for my help. As an Atlantean, how could I refuse?”

Ballero laughed in ridicule. Even though Ballero stood a head taller, Kylos really wanted to punch his face. So with his fists clenched and teeth bared, Kylos rushed his classmate. The women shrieked and hollered in delight at the play.

The boys grappled with each other and fell to the ground. But Kylos, as if under some magical spell, could hardly move at all. His classmate outmaneuvered him at every turn, making Kylos feel like he was fighting in a pool of water. Soon Kylos was put into a tight headlock, and breathing became difficult. Ballero laughed his wicked laugh in triumph.

While Kylos’s chest was pressed to the soft ground, he was losing air. Across the water, he caught sight of a creature slithering in the grass on the opposite bank. At first, he could not make it out, but as it got closer, he saw that the thing was a gigantic white serpent—bigger than any that he had ever seen, much less heard of—approaching the river’s edge. In silence, it made its way up to the women, poising itself for the strike.

Kylos wanted to cry out, but his throat was closing. All he could do was watch as the women discovered the monster too late and listen to their screams as it sprung on them. Kylos felt a warm sensation in his chest. The scene of the grassy field and stream was fading…

Time to get up, Young Master,” a soothing voice said in Kylos's mind. The thick accent was unmistakable.

His eyelids flipped open, and he found himself in his room on his bed. Some morning light had made its way through a crack in the burgundy curtains, creating a dim glow. He closed his eyes again and heaved a sigh of relief. The dream was too real.
After the wake up call, he could still feel the warm energy from the mind merge surge like ripples in a pool throughout his upper body. The source of the emanation came from the red crystal pendant resting on his chest.

Kylos flung aside the bed’s turquoise silk sheet, got off of his cotton-filled mattress, and drew the curtains. Atlantis was coming to life on that fine spring day. The gleam of the morning sun reflected off of the First Tier’s orichalcum-covered ring wall; the magnificent metal alloy cast a yellow blaze on nearby white-washed buildings. People had started to go about their daily business, but the street in front of his house was not yet crowded. He knew that in four hours, though, it would be difficult to get around on the same street.

The scent of breakfast enticed him out of his room. A white tunic with a golden waist chord hung on a peg in his boudoir, and his comfortably worn-down brown leather sandals waited for him on the cool tile floor. After getting dressed, he marched to the morning meal. The smell of fresh bread and seasoned soup filled his nostrils, making his mouth water.

Amblix, the family slave, was setting the black lacquered table in the dining room with two sets of gray ceramic bowls, some bronze spoons, and two white ceramic plates for the bread. The five bronze plates hanging on the white plaster wall behind him, which depicted sea battles and the Gods, had been polished and the tile floor sparkled, too. Amblix had been busy. He turned his attention to Kylos with his pale-blue eyes and said, “Greetings of the day, Young Master. Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough, I suppose. I had a strange dream, though.”

“Oh?” Amblix said, as he carried on with his morning meal duties. “What sort of dream?”

“It was really bizarre. There was this snake—a huge white snake.”
Amblix stopped what he was doing for a moment. He shook his head which threw his blonde beard and braided hair about, and then he continued arranging breakfast. “Snakes in dreams, eh? A strong omen, in my old country.”

“Strong? How?”

“Well, snakes, in my land, are seen as powerful animals full of magic. Almost like daemons. They have the power of destruction and rebirth.”

Kylos was surprised to hear that. Atlanteans did not believe that serpents possessed any sort of supernatural powers. “Where was your land, again? I know, you’ve mentioned it to me several times before, but I keep forgetting its name.”

“Far across the sea towards the rising sun,” Amblix said, jerking his thumb east.

“Didn’t it have a name of some kind? Like Kal-doy or something like that?”

0“Actually, to us, the land was sacred, so giving it a name seemed to show a lack of respect, so it remained nameless. We just lived in a medium-sized village, and I belonged to the Keltoi tribe—before I was taken away on a raid by Atlantean warriors—if that’s what you were thinking of,” Amblix said. “Hmm. I wasn’t much older than you are now. I was learning about farming from my father, but also how to use a blade, spear, and shield. Most of the men in my village were farmer-warriors. We were bold and strong and loved four things in life: fighting, song, ale, and women. As a matter of fact, I was in love with a beautiful girl from a neighboring village.”

Kylos smiled at the pride beaming from Amblix’s face and sat down at the table. “Tell me more about your people.”

“Well, as I said, I came from a farming village, but often we raided to get cows and other livestock from nearby villages. And they did the same to us. It was almost a kind of game.”

Amblix chuckled at his recollections, but Kylos failed to see the sporting nature of that game. Amblix noticed the look on Kylos’s face and said, “Our warriors knew no fear. Cowardice in battle was punishable by banishment and remaining an outcast from the tribe for the rest of your life. You were also given a scar across the cheek as a lifelong reminder of the treachery done on the field of battle.”

Kylos rubbed his cheek imagining the pain involved. Amblix chuckled again. “Yeah, we fought hard and well, practicing with weapons whenever we could. But in the end, Atlantean tactics and resolve proved stronger.”

Then he scratched his thick hair and looked down. “Well, as I think about it, the organization of the Atlantean army was probably our downfall. We had never seen anything like it. And the Myrmillo fighting style was a wonder to behold. And those war elephants… Let’s just say it was a very sad day for me and my people when the Atlanteans came to our village.”

Amblix went about preparing for Kylos and for his father, who would soon be returning from the Mount Atlas Observatory. As Amblix worked, he hummed a song. Kylos sat back and listened, and soon he heard words slipping out with the tune. The sounds of Amblix’s native tongue were harsher than Atlantean sounds, with stronger consonants and some sounds that were almost spit out. Yet, the words fit the melody.

“Is that a song from your land?”

The slave self-consciously stopped. “Yes, it is. Sorry if it disturbed you.”

“No, no, no. That’s all right. It was a nice tune.”

“Actually, Young Master, it’s a sad song. The warriors of my village would sing it when they went on those raids that I told you about. It’s about missing home.”

Kylos started to see the household slave in a different light. He had never really thought about Amblix any more than a fixed part of his life, like his crystal. Both had been with Kylos for as long as he could remember. Kylos realized he had been too wrapped up in his own life while growing up, and, until this moment, he had never thought about Amblix once having a life far away that was very different from the Atlantean way of life.

Delighted with his new awareness, Kylos asked, “How do you say ‘Hello, my name is Kylos; I come from Atlantis,’ in your language?”

Amblix replied in his native tongue. Such different sounds were exotic and Kylos wanted to learn more. He asked to be taught more pleasantries, how to ask where things were, and how to make a compliment to a pretty girl. The language was a bit difficult for Kylos to pronounce well, but they were laughing and enjoying the attempts. “That’s quite good, Young Master. Maybe you can learn my language some day.”

His classmates would have made fun of him trying to learn a slave’s language, but he said, “I’d like that. Maybe I can visit your land. I’ll bring you with me as a translator and you could see your family once again.”

The thought of traveling to foreign lands and having adventures brought a grin to Kylos’s face. He imagined going with Amblix and meeting many blonde-haired, blue-eyed people living in the woods. He thought the mention of family would also bring a smile to Amblix’s face. It had the opposite effect. Kylos said, “What’s wrong?”
Amblix wiped the table with thoughtless swirls. “Oh, just thinking of home. In my fifteen years of being here, I had put away all those thoughts, because I had given up hope on ever seeing my home again. You brought back the ghosts to haunt me.”
Kylos felt sorry for Amblix. “Are you happy being a slave?”

At first Amblix seemed a bit hostile towards the question with a loud huff, like it was some cruel joke about his present condition. But Kylos was giving him undivided attention and really wanted to know the answer. Amblix put down the food he was holding, shook his head and chuckled. “What a question… Well, given the choice, of course, I’d rather be free and back home with my people. Your people took that possibility away from me.”

Kylos shifted around in his chair, realizing that he should not have gone down that path of questioning. As his teacher had said, ‘Better to be thought a fool than proved one.’ Kylos just let his curiosity take over without thinking. The mood was getting tense, but Amblix was generous and said, “Well, to be honest, I’m glad that I’m here with you and your father. I could’ve had it worse, like being a laborer at some rock quarry, or stuck on some farm or orchard in the northern part of Atlantis. That would’ve been miserable.”

Kylos looked down on the table and said, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“I thank you for your thoughts, but things are as they are and there’s no changing that for now.”

Kylos made no response.

“Do you remember when you were younger and I took you to the zoo gardens?”

“Which time?” Kylos said while smiling.

“Yeah, we did go often. You always loved animals. Remember those large cats in the cages? They paced back and forth, over and over again without stop because their minds were broken. Their spirits were gone. Only their bodies remained, caught in unending madness, because they were captured and caged. Well, as you can easily see with your eyes, I’m not pacing around all crazy… at least, not yet.”

Amblix winked, and Kylos laughed.

“That’s good to hear,” a deep, exhausted voice echoed in the hallway. Ziustros, Kylos’s father, entered the dining area, his teal-colored robes swooshed as he moved to his chair. On his chest hung his royal badge of office, which was a large gold pendant that had a radiating star etched onto it. Imbedded in the center of the star rested his blue crystal.

Amblix bowed and said, “Welcome home, Master.”

“Father,” Kylos said with a slight bow.

Ziustros nodded his head to Kylos in response and sat down for breakfast in his chair. He heaved a sigh, as if to release the burdens of last night’s work, and picked up his spoon.

The usual quiet atmosphere at the breakfast table left Kylos to his thoughts. Amblix served the breakfast soup with a silver ladle, first to Ziustros.

The mussel chowder with the mild rosemary seasoning smelled wonderful. Kylos reached for some bread, after allowing his father to take some first, and the meal was eaten in silence. Later, Amblix cleared the soup bowls and brought out a tray from the kitchen with a variety of cut fruits. Kylos could not wait to get his fingers on the pears and peaches.

“So, summer vacation is coming soon,” Ziustros said, breaking their silent morning routine with conversation. Kylos sat motionless. “I was thinking you could come to the observatory with me for a week and look at the stars; learn what they really are instead of what you’ve probably been told they are.”

What did he mean, ‘What you’ve been told you they are?’

A response was required, but Kylos just squirmed in his seat. He had already made plans for the summer with Peleus. He wanted to hold off on telling his father as long as he could. He wanted deliver the news as a passing comment just as he was heading out of the door. But the sands of the hourglass had run out, and he had yet another family confrontation in the making.

Kylos coughed, and then decided to try to explain his big plan in an excited way, which he hoped would be contagious and get his father thinking the same. “Actually, I have some great news! Someone from the coast guard came into our class last week. Since Peleus and I are fifteen years old, we can join the Nereid Corps this summer and be one of the fifty dolphin riders!”

Kylos could see that his father took the news like a knife to the heart. The thought of weaving through the ocean waves on the back of some sleek dolphin and fighting off pirates filled Kylos’s spirit with such happiness. The same thought filled his father’s face with a redness, which only disappointment and anger could create.

The soup bowl in front of Kylos was infinitely preferable to look at than the fuming gaze of his father. Kylos caught sight of Amblix easing his way into a corner of the room with his head down while holding a platter in front of him. So much for martial bravery. Obviously it was another battle the slave did not want to be involved in.
After what felt like a half an hour, Ziustros finally said, “Well, that’s that then. You’ve obviously thought this out well. It sounds like you’ll have a wonderful time with the fish and what’s his name… Peleus?”

The sarcasm of his words stung. Kylos had never seen his father so upset, but he wished to speak out and explain how good his plan was. He wanted to tell his father about how all of the boys in the class wanted to do it, too. He wanted to say that so many boys his age had done it before and survived unhurt. He wanted to remind his dad that next year he would be coming of age. He wanted to say that he had been dreaming of being a Nereid for the past two years. But all he could muster from his dry mouth at that moment was absolute silence.

“Well, it’s time for you to go to that school that I’m paying to keep you educated and intelligent, isn’t it? Master Chiron shouldn’t have to be kept waiting.”

Amblix stepped forward and said, “I’ll get your things ready for—“

“No!” Ziustros said with a snap. “That won’t be necessary. If he’s man enough to go swimming with the damn fish and his friends, he’s old enough to get ready to go to school by himself!”

Understanding, as always, Kylos thought.

Ziustros’s tone of finality cued Kylos to leave before worse things were said. Kylos got up from his chair, bowed without looking at his father and said, “I will take my leave of you now, Father. Sorry to have upset you.”

With that, he whirled around and fled from the dining room, the tension in there being as thick as the autumn fog which sometimes settles around the First Tier walls early in the morning. He bolted through the hallway straight into his room. The sound of hands slamming onto the dining room table echoed throughout the house.

In his sanctuary, he grabbed his stylus and wax tablet and shoved them into his leather satchel. He made a dash to the door that led to freedom. Once his feet hit the street, he felt immediate release. The morning sea breeze brushed over his skin and helped to ease his stress.

His father never understood him, and he had never taken the time to try. Every night he was away at his stupid observatory looking at the stars. For what purpose, the Gods only knew. Common knowledge held that the lights in the sky were older gods, or the heroes who had been granted immortality. They slowly made their course through the night sky on parade, watching mortals below. He and Peleus had looked at the stars together and prayed to them—but not so often.

Why did his father have a problem with the Nereids? The life of a dolphin rider would not be boring at all. Being on the open ocean without a care, the wind fresh on the skin—what life could be better than that? Riding fast, riding free, fighting pirates, capturing smugglers, and rescuing stranded sailors like a hero. That is the life he craved. To become someone to be proud of and respected by all would fulfill his dream.

But Kylos did not want to hurt his father’s feelings, though, especially since his father was finally offering something. But what was that something? Looking at the stars? Sharing his father’s royal duty was not the ideal vacation. Kylos knew that his father had wanted him to study to become some boring scholar for the King. He would be locked in some study that would not allow for any exciting things whatsoever. Deep down, he knew that a life like that was not for him.

Kylos wanted fun and adventure. He had even toyed with the idea of joining the Trader’s Mariner Guild not long after had his sixteenth birthday next year, or even the Myrmillo Army. He just wanted to see the world across the ocean that his teacher had told him about: the thick pines to the lands northeast, the deserts to the lands southeast and the dense jungles to the lands southwest. Even visiting the copper mines in the lands to the northwest would be something different, although he could not care less about mining. He just wanted to go places.

If his mother were alive, she would have understood. He often wondered what she was like, as he had no image of her face to recollect at all. She had died while giving birth to him, as his father often reminded him. But his father would say no more about her than that. Kylos thought he had happened to catch sight of a mosaic of some young, beautiful woman tucked away in his father’s closet once when Amblix was cleaning his father’s room. But Ziustros’s room had always been locked and off-limits to Kylos, so he could never see it again.

Kylos had to be more like his mother, he figured, for he was not at all like his father. Peleus’s mom and dad seemed more like parents to Kylos when he visited their house after school. They always treated him with warmth and kindness, filling him with cookies, cakes, and sincerity. He felt so much more at home with Peleus’s family than with his own father. Even Amblix, who was always around to help whenever needed, felt more like family, despite being the household slave. The situation of his home disappointed him to no end when he thought about it.

Kylos’s red crystal warmed his chest, so he opened his mind for the merge. He could sense it was Peleus calling out to him.

Hey, where are you?” Peleus said.

I just left my house a bit ago and am walking.”

Any troubles?”

Oh, my father was being his usual understanding self.”

Ah. Well, get a move on! I’m waiting by the bakery. Chiron will grill us if we’re late.”

I’ll walk faster.”

You’d better run. See you soon.”

Kylos released his focus on his crystal and concentrated on his running. He dodged through the early morning traffic of citizens on foot, some elites being carried in litters by tireless bronze Automaton android servants, and some vendors guiding oxen loaded with foreign goods from the docks to be sold in the agora. Two-story white houses, tall buildings, and small shops all whipped by as Kylos’s sandals pounded the gray flagstones in rapid succession. He followed the gradual curve of the road, which matched the curve of the First Tier wall. The last thing he wanted to do was be late for class, and he did not want to make Peleus late either.

Even though Kylos had no desire to become a scholar, he enjoyed his schooling. He learned things he would need on his great travels to help him be a more worldly man. Chiron’s lessons made him think, made him use his logic and creativity, and occasionally made Kylos laugh to himself, if not out loud with the other students. Chiron had a good balance of keeping the atmosphere serious when it needed to be and yet light to keep the class focused. Chiron was the wisest person Kylos had ever known, so, in a way, he was grateful to his father for sending him to school. Being the son of the Royal Astronomer and Scientist had its benefits sometimes, like getting an education. He knew very well that most other boys had to do without.
After ten minutes of steady running, he arrived for his rendezvous with Peleus. The plump boy with freckles already had the end of a long, honey-glazed pastry projecting from his munching jowls. Bits of bread flew out as he said, “It’s about time you got here!”

Kylos stopped and laughed at his wonderful friend. Peleus shrugged and with a mouthful said, “What? I was hungry while waiting for you. We need to hurry up.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Peleus licked his sticky fingers and wiped them on his white tunic. He turned to go, and Kylos did the same but stopped when he happened to catch a glimpse of the girl who had been in his dream last night. There she was in the flesh, carrying a tray of bread from the bakery out to a stand where an older man, presumably her father, took the goods and became animated and announced the fresh arrival, which had customers flocking with coins in hand.

1When Peleus saw what Kylos had been gawking at, he grabbed Kylos’s white tunic and shook it. “Hey, Ky, no time for girls. We’ve got to go!”

Kylos gave the baker’s daughter a quick smile to show her that he noticed her. She paused in her bread sorting and looked at him. The smile was returned. A warm feeling surged throughout his entire body, much warmer than any crystal power surge he had felt. His grin grew bigger, then he raced away to catch up with his friend.
The pair ran to the school which was housed in a building lined with many columns which had been carved with bull’s heads at the tops and sea shells on the bottoms. Those columns supported the overhang of blue tiles which provided a shaded retreat from the warm Atlantean sun. The walls were whitewashed, though it was easy to see that it had been awhile since it had last been done. Kylos and Peleus entered the building’s antechamber. The sounds of boys playfully shouting at each other could be heard through the thick wooden door with ornate aquatic motifs carved into it. Peleus grabbed the bronze knocker that resembled a sea horse and banged the door three times.

Akadia, Chiron’s aged servant, opened the door and greeted the pair, “Greetings of the day, Young Master Peleus, Young Master Kylos. Everyone’s assembled in the lecture room now, and Master Chiron will be attending to you all very soon. You’d best hurry.”

With his long thin arm, the servant gestured for them to come in. Kylos and Peleus ran through the hallway and burst into the lecture room. There, most of the class’s boys were jostling with each other on, and around, the tiers of stone benches circling the arena space. A smooth blue-veined marble altar stood in the center of the room, and sunlight illuminated it from a circular portal in the domed ceiling.
Kylos and Peleus greeted their classmates and climbed some aisle stairs to get at their usual seats. Ballero sat away from the bulk of the crowd, having a few students around pandering to him.

A jovial pimple-ridden student named Demnos came over to Kylos. “Hey, are you two going to join the Pelota game this weekend?”

Kylos said, “Yeah, sounds great. Who are we going to play?”

“It’ll be us against the boys from Second Tier.”

Peleus made a sour face. “Last time they killed us.”

Kylos smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll get them this time.”

Peleus just shrugged in disbelief. Demnos laughed and said, “Yeah. It doesn’t matter. It’s just for fun.”

“But it’s embarrassing getting beaten like we did.”

“Well,” Kylos said, “we’re bound to win one of these days, Atlas willing.”

The revelry of the class was instantly silenced by the resounding pound of the Akadia’s thick staff on the stone floor. The old man stepped forward and boomed, “Boys, get to your places! Master Chiron is coming.”

They all scrambled to their seats and took out their wax tablets and styluses. The aged servant stood near the arched entryway and bowed as Chiron strode in with an assortment of paper scrolls.

The students bowed and sat in respectful silence while Chiron placed the scrolls on the altar. The teacher raised his hands into the air, his bearded face absorbing most of the morning’s sunlight that streamed through the ceiling, and invoked the Gods through prayer. “Oh, Atlas, how calm and serene you are. We acknowledge the power you and the other Gods possess and are humbled by it. We are grateful for this beautiful land that we call our homeland. Lord Oceanus, we thank you for the glorious civilization you had started so long ago. Long may it reign supreme in the world, as well as grow in wisdom and beauty.”

The students chanted in well-rehearsed unison, “Long may it reign supreme in the
world, as well as grow in wisdom and beauty.”

A silent prayer followed the ritual. But Kylos figured that most of the kids were using the time imagining what it would be like to beat the Second Tiers in this weekend’s big game. He used the time to think about the girl he had seen in his dream and then at that bakery. Why was she in his dream? He had never seen her before in his life. But he was thankful the Gods had allowed him to see her. She was very pretty.

Chiron lowered his arms and face, releasing the astral energy that channeled through him and his blue crystal. He returned to the realm of the mundane and spun around fully energized to face his students. He slapped the altar, which jiggled his wooden beads of his bracelet and surprised everyone. He said, “All right, take out your poetry assignments from the other day. I want to hear what the muses have done in the way of inspiration to this fine body of talented students.”

They took out their tablets, some of the boys appearing uneasy, already knowing the inadequacy of their poems. It was only a matter of time before they had to reveal their mediocrity to everyone else in the class. Other students sat upright with confidence in their writing, eager and willing to share their works of creativity.
Kylos fell somewhere in between.

Chiron was a challenging task master, always pressing the class to think on a wide variety of topics and create works by using their heart and soul. Kylos felt like he was actually learning, even though his school Master always claimed he had done nothing. Chiron would insist that the knowledge had always been within the students, and that he was just the artist carving away the excess clay to sculpt the beautiful thought. For Kylos, his teacher had opened up the world around him.

The schoolmaster made the rounds, choosing students at random and having them read their works aloud. The theme he had assigned was about nature. As the orations happened, Kylos found some poems to be decent and others not so good, while others were just plain ghastly, usually resulting in snickers from the other students. In those cases, Akadia assailed the guilty students with fierce reprimands and a threatening staff, as he was in charge of discipline. For such a small, stringy man, he could be a fierce lion.

When it came time for Kylos to read, he stood up and cleared his throat. Being the sudden center of attention caused an uncomfortable increase in his heart rate, sweaty palms, and a sinking feeling in his stomach. He cleared his throat a second time and read:

“Mount Atlas, the titanic god, sits on his island
Holding up the sky on his weary shoulders
Every day and every night without end
Atlas, who is now made of rocks and boulders.

You hold up the sky to protect us all.
For that we are always giving you due praise.
What would happen if the sky suddenly slipped?
Would that be the end of our days?”

A moment had passed and the students looked at each other with smiles that were turning into suppressed laughs. The dam broke and a flood of guffaws filled the room, along with a myriad of snickers and jibes. Kylos could hear whispers in the room saying how stupid it was to think Atlas would ever let the sky fall on them. The hurtful scorn and ridicule filling the room drowned out the servant’s attempts to control the situation. All Kylos heard was the laughter. He lowered his head in shame, his eyes began to sting, and he sat down feeling like a complete failure.

“Silence!” roared an unexpected voice. As if by magic from his crystal, Chiron immediately vanquished the chaos that had erupted in his classroom. The students’ faces went blank with a mix of fear and shock at the Master’s outburst in class. Chiron continued, “I’ve heard many poems today about trees, fish, grass, and fruit. And there was even one which strayed from the assigned topic and spoke of the big game this weekend! At least Kylos was the only one of you who had anything worth saying. He asked a very good philosophical question about nature. If only the rest of you could have followed his example, what a much better class this would be.”

The students lowered their heads and could not meet Chiron’s infuriated gaze. Only one student dared: Ballero. His mouth was pressed into a smug grin and had his usual posture of superiority, as the Master had not apparently mentioned his poem’s topic.

“What? What is this? Why do you have that look about you, Ballero?”

Ballero’s composure changed a bit. He went more rigid, and his boastful confidence
slipped away.

“Your dry observations in that scribble, which I have barely been able to read this whole year, were hardly food for thought. A mouse would have starved. Your look at elephants was a pathetic attempt to please me… I assure you, it did not.”

The students gasped and involuntarily turned their heads to Ballero to see how he would react to the damage. What they saw scared them. His face muscles contorted and his skin turned scarlet. His mouth was an open slit, baring gritted teeth. He looked at his fellow students in defiance and they all looked away. He boiled in fury. To the best of Kylos’s knowledge, no one had ever challenged Ballero or insulted him, at least not to his face. His family had influence, so everyone feared any consequences of upsetting him. Rumor had it that bad things happened to people who dared cross with Ballero’s family. Apparently Chiron did not care.

The silence was getting weighty. Peleus and Kylos looked at each other and wondered what would happen next. Chiron paced back and forth across the center of the room and stopped and looked at a student.

“Demnos!”

The boy bounced to attention, apparently startled to be selected for the next round of scolding.

“As for your poem… I wouldn’t worry too much. Most of the Second Tiers will probably be overconfident, so you’ll have a decent chance of winning.”

Chiron turned around and walked to the altar. The students, eased from the tension, laughed and swatted their Pelota-obsessed comrade on the back. Kylos felt better and forgot about his inglorious moment. He noticed that Ballero was still stewing in anger over the berating he got from the Master.

“Now,” Chiron said, “today we’re going to review geography. I need someone to help me… Peleus. Come down here, please.”

Peleus popped his head up in surprise, and he looked wide-eyed at Kylos. Peleus’s round face read like an epic poem of fear. He was terrible at geography, and both Kylos and Chiron knew it.

With trembling steps, Peleus wobbled his way down to the center. A rectangular area containing sand for drawing lay in front of the altar. The aged servant approached Peleus and offered him a long drawing stick. Hesitantly Peleus took the rod and clutched it in his trembling grip.

Chiron slowly approached the boy with his hands behind his back and with a coy smile said, “Please draw for us the world as you know it.”

Kylos pitied his nervous friend, but equally wanted to laugh at his poor friend’s plight. Kylos knew Chiron was playing with him.

Putting the rod to the sand, Peleus sketched out Atlantis—which was fairly accurate—followed by a vague outline of the European and African continents to the east.
“Not bad, Peleus,” Chiron said. “Now to the West.”

Peleus did as he was told and made the western continents. Then, he sketched in Asia, Oceania and even Antarctica. He stopped drawing and scratched his curly brown hair, trying to recall if he had forgotten anyplace important.

Chiron addressed Peleus’s questioning look with a loud, “Ah…”

Peleus stepped back and bowed in defeat to his teacher. Chiron looked to Kylos and said, “What did your friend forget to include?”

Kylos paused to think and analyze the map. “Mu.”

“Yes, the lost continent of Mu, which nurtured our spiritual brothers from the other side of the world. We must always remember them by faithfully putting them on the map so as to never forget them. What do you remember about them, Kylos?”

Kylos tensed up for being put on the spot again. “Um… as I think I recall, they were very wise and rejected physical things as part of human imagination—or something like that. They just wanted peace and harmony with the universe and mankind.”

“Good. Good,” Chiron said with a smile. He took the drawing stick from Peleus, who looked all too pleased to be rid of it, and drew Mu in the Pacific Ocean.

“Excuse me, Master Chiron,” Kylos said.

Chiron looked up. “Yes?”

“Were they really that way?”

The other boys rolled their eyes in a ‘Who cares?' way.

Chiron frowned at their reaction. “Yes, they were. We had a lot of contact with them before the great catastrophe which led to the island’s sinking. They had mastered the ability of channeling and harnessing the power of crystals and taught our ancestors how to do it. That was a long time ago.”

The boys in class sat up and leaned in with a bit more interest. From time to time, they enjoyed Chiron’s stories from history.

“It was from them that we gained the great crystal Omphalos, which is housed in a sanctuary on the Fourth Tier close to the temple of Oceanus and the Royal Palace. We have been fortunate to be able to use its powers in our personal crystals. What would you do if you couldn’t communicate with your friends late at night… or even during my class? Right, Xeno?”

Nearby students punched and slapped the culprit with good-natured laughs.
Chiron drew a rough sketch of the crystal in the sand. “With the power, we can do many things, but on Mu they could do so much more—even fly, we are told. Their powers grew and developed to a point where they no longer needed the crystals. Their innate powers were passed down from generation to generation. Murians were born with special abilities and could do wondrous things that most people would consider magic.”

That really got the class’s attention. Supernatural powers always drew in a crowd.
“But in the end, even with all of their great powers, they couldn’t save themselves. The island disappeared and the population’s survivors fled to foreign lands to lead isolated lives or intermingle with other populations.”

Such god-like people with unlimited powers disappearing into the unknown seemed so unbelievable to Kylos. Yet that was the case. He thought about the poem he had written and then agreed with the others’ thinking that he was foolish to believe that the Gods would ever let the sky fall down on Atlantis. It was Oceanus’s land. The great sea god would protect it from everything, even monsters.

“You may sit down now, Peleus,” said Chiron. Kylos’s friend did not have to be told twice, as he scooted to his seat.

“May I ask another question?” Kylos said.

“Of course. I always welcome them. It shows you are thinking and not just listening like a tree in some wooded glade.”

Kylos smiled at the remark. “Well, this morning I was speaking to my slave. I never really thought about it until today, but he came from very far away. He had mentioned before that it was a forest-filled area east of Atlantis. He has blonde hair and blue eyes.”

“Ah, perhaps he is a Teutonic.”

Even though Amblix had just told him that morning, he could not remember the name of the tribe, but it was not so important. “Maybe. Well, anyway, I asked him if he missed his home.”

Some students chuckled, probably at the absurdity of the question and having such a familiarity with a slave. Chiron glared at them, and his aged servant slammed his staff on the stone floor with an authoritative thud. Chiron said, “Please continue, Kylos. Did he miss his home?”

“Yes. I could tell he was sad, and I started to feel sorry for him, especially after hearing about his home. My question for you is this: have there always been slaves? I mean, we have Automatons now. They don’t feel anything. Why do we need to take and use people?”

Chiron paused and rubbed his bearded chin. His eyes and mouth tensed as he struggled for the answer. After long reflection, he said, “Slaves have always been a part of our society. Take my faithful friend, Akadia, over there. He was a slave before I had freed him. Slavery has been our way of life ever since we left our shores in search of conquest. Slaves have provided labor for services which make our lives as Atlantean citizens much easier.”

Chiron turned and started pacing and said, “I’m opposed to slavery, as humans are closer to the Gods than any other creature on this world. They shouldn’t be used like beasts of burden and not be looked upon as property, like a house or tools. Right now, we are caught in a sad cycle in which we need to keep the slaves to prevent chaos from erupting in our society and thus ripping our culture apart. However, our enlightened people know they should be free.”

“So what do we do, then?” a bold student caught up in the oration asked.

“Well, Kylos has mentioned Automatons. They are our substitute for a lot of our hard labor needs and add strength to our military. We have created them in our own form and powered their bronze android shells with crystals. But they still lack the finesse and ability to do all that may be required by our people. Our clever technologists, though, are always researching and coming up with new developments. So, I’m sure that some day—maybe even in your lifetimes—that human slavery will be replaced by machines of our own design and making. Imagine that, all of you: no one will ever have to do mindless, dangerous or strenuous work. That will free us for higher and nobler pursuits to allow the body, mind, and soul to grow to its fullest potential. We will truly have become the greatest society the world has ever seen, even rivaling Mu. Future generations of every culture will envy our way of life and imitate Atlanteans forever more.”

Kylos imagined himself older, like Chiron, having a household of Automatons to take care of him. He could envision that future. Every problem would vanish from their culture in the better tomorrow his teacher proposed. At that moment he felt proud to be an Atlantean, the greatest people in the entire world.

The other students chatted with each other like buzzing bees. Kylos could see they shared the same enthusiasm that he did about their bright future that would come to pass. It felt like fate and destiny. All of the students were in the grip of Chiron’s vision; all of them except for Ballero, who glared at Chiron with unblinking eyes and a snarling lip.

Kylos watched as Ballero gripped his stylus in his right hand and struck it into his wax tablet again and again with slow, deliberate thrusts, as if he were burying a knife blade into flesh. He caught Kylos staring and did one last thrust.

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