The Atlantian System: Creation

With a smile concealed by his beard, Allister moved forward to drape a blanket around her shoulders.

He guided her out of the bedroom and into an open-air hallway with arched columns on one side, which offered a view of the familiar stone courtyard from the previous night.

Bathed in sunlight, the monastery resembled a scene from a fairy tale. Walking around the courtyard, they were greeted by the refreshing aroma of water and jasmine. They continued until they reached a set of wooden stairs that led down to the ground floor. Except for the courtyard floor made of cool gray cobblestones and the roof adorned with terracotta tiles, everything else either covered cream-colored stucco or antique wood.

The building resembled a Mediterranean castle rather than a serene place of prayer, especially with the sound of metal clanging and bodies grunting as they moved in the courtyard below. At the heart of the area, Koa stood with a wooden quarterstaff, accompanied by an Asian man of their age who wielded two Japanese Ono axes. Leta recalled that the man’s name was Hayato.

In a dazzling performance of skill and precision, the two opponents sparred with flashing steel and lethal strikes. Both Hayato’s speed and Koa’s reflexes and precision were evenly matched, creating a balanced competition.

Allister’s throat-clearing brought them to a collective halt, their attention shifting from the giant to Leta.

“Your Majesty.” Hayato dipped into a low bow at the hips, weapons still in hand but in a relaxed grip.

Koa took a moment before he, too, gave a slight bow, his greeting of “Your Majesty” sounding far less formal and clipped than his sparring partners.

“As you were, lads.” Allister waved them on without breaking his stride.

He held a wooden door open for her, which revealed a long inner hallway lined with open doors to light the way, save for one. The door swung open, revealing the brunette woman from last night, who had donned yoga pants and a stylish linen button-down shirt.

Allister began the introductions. “This is Yelena Zolotova. She’ll be able to assist you with anything you need in the bathing chamber and will make sure you have some privacy.”

“Your Majesty.” She greeted as she dipped into a graceful and experienced curtsy, a polite smile showing off the hint of dimples.

Yelena opened the door and signaled for her to come in. The bathing chamber, as they were referring to it, was massive. Leta could fit her entire house back in Seattle in this one room. It was so large that Yelena had to give her a tour.

The ceiling was incredibly high, making her believe that the supporting columns extended all the way to the heavens. The room remained comfortable with open windows, as natural light and a soft breeze filtered in.

During its time as a monastery, Leta couldn’t determine the purpose of this room. However, at some stage, walls and curtains were added to create individual areas with showers and toilets. The woman explained that in the main area, there were several sinks and large soaking tubs, predominantly utilized for ice baths after training. It was strictly enforced that clothing had to be worn for those.

In one corner, a walk-in tub the size of a swimming pool was partially concealed by breezy white curtains, while steam rose from its depths and the statue of a cherub holding a water pitcher poured steaming water into it.

“There are some soaps and towels here.” Yelena pointed to the items resting on a stone bench next to the giant tub. “Please, take your time. If you require assistance, there’s a pull rope located against the wall here. I’ll be at the door to ensure your privacy, your Majesty.”

“Please.” Leta shook her head, “I’m not royalty. You guys can drop the ‘your majesty’ stuff.”

“Oh!” Yelena blinked. “Would you prefer a different title? My Queen? Your Highness, perhaps?”

“No, jeez…” Leta pinched the bridge of her nose, “I’m not-no, I’m just a history nerd from the States. If you prefer a very formal approach, feel free to address me as Oletta.”

Yelena straightened up and curtsied once more. “Then I will give you some privacy, Oletta.”

Leta groaned quietly as the woman closed the door, thinking about the bowing. “That’s going to get old real quick.”

The bath exceeded her expectations, the hot water easing her discomfort while she washed her blonde hair and observed its lighter shade and increased length.

Once she realized that, she started observing other recent changes, too. She was confident that she had grown a few centimeters taller and her previously nonexistent fingernails were now long, healthy, and strong. She could probably do some damage with these as claws in a pinch.

Leta soaked in the bathtub until her fingertips wrinkled, then dried herself off and dressed in the clothes provided: loose linen pants and a fitted, long-sleeved Henley shirt.

Yelena had left her house slippers, so she put them on before going outside and found Yelena keeping watch. “I’m assuming we’re burning the hospital gown. Where do you want me to put my towels?”

“Oh, please leave them your - Oletta. I’ll see to them.”

“Seriously, no special treatment.” Leta shook her head. “Where do they go?”

Yelena stopped abruptly, wearing a troubled expression, as if treating Leta as an ordinary person violated her moral principles.

“There’s a cloth bin next to the showers and a rubbish bin by the sink.”

Leta’s face lit up as she exclaimed, “See? Was that so hard?”

She made an effort to tidy up the bathing chamber. When she came out, Allister was speaking softly to the Yelena, who was still standing watch.

Allister gave her a pleasant smile. “Feeling better, your Majesty?”

“One hundred percent. But I literally just told Yelena here to just call me Leta, like everyone else.”

“In private, as friends, aye, I can do that.” Allister agreed, “But it’s not proper for me to refer to a Queen by her name in mixed company, ya kinne?”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night.” Leta rolled her eyes.

Her expression turned serious as she spoke to the giant. “I’d like to see my father. Can you take me to him?”

Allister exchanged a glance with Yelena, and the woman curtsied before quickly leaving.

“I’ll bring you to your Da.” He said once they were alone, “But I need to give you some warning. Loupgarou bites…”

The ominous tone of his voice made Leta’s heart start pounding again.

“Well, the bite itself isn’t bad. Painful and slow to heal, but you could bounce back. It’s their blood that could cause a problem for a Mundane. It’s unimaginably rare thanks to the rules, but if Loupgarou blood gets into a Mundane’s system, it can…”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before continuing, “It can change em’. Turn a Mundane into what we call a Fiend. They get some of the Loupgarou traits, like the need to hunt prey and are constantly hungry for living food, but don’t change shape.”

Leta was frozen as the news washed over her like a bucket of cold water, the panic and fear she’d experienced last night bubbling to the surface. “What’s that mean for him? He’s turning into a monster?”

“A bit in the head, aye. Again, cases like this are rare, especially in this day and age. Remember, the Golden Rule keeps a fine line of separation between us and the Mundane, so the odds of a Mundane ingesting Arisen blood are few and far between. I’m certain the last time a human consumed Loupgarou blood was most likely back in the early 1800s.”

Allister saw Leta’s expression and coughed, his cheeks and ears going red as he realized he was rambling. “My apologies. From what I’ve been able to gather, it doesn’t change their appearance, just their mental state. They still walk around and can hold conversations, but there’s this growing need to hunt and feed that, if left unchecked, that need can make them a danger to themselves and others.”

Leta felt a sudden rush of air leave her lungs as sadness and regret waged a war within her. She felt the weight of guilt dragging her down, making it difficult to catch her breath.

‘If I had faked my death…’

Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand on her shoulder.

“I just want to come clean with you about this so you know what to expect.” Allister gave her shoulder a squeeze. “It’s not a death sentence if it’s managed, but you need to know before you see him. When he wakes up, he’ll have his wits about him still, so you should be able to have these conversations about what you want to do next.”

Leta nodded, her eyes burning with unshed tears as she took a ragged breath.

“Thank you. Please take me to my dad.”