The Atlantian System: Creation

“Wow.” Leta exclaimed. The story was fantastical; surely, someone could have made a movie.

“When it was pronounced in my village that I was one of the fallen, she mourned, but I got the impression she wasn’t exceptionally upset. Remember, she fancied me, but she had a lot of other lads ready to take my place. She ended up marrying my younger brother, Hamish.” He shrugged. “They had several kids and lived a relatively normal life for that moment in history. In fact, my fourteen or fifteenth great grandniece is a human rights lawyer for the United Nations. I’m rather proud of that, actually.”

The idea of being alive and youthful while your great-great-great-great grandson was out there living his best life amazed Leta.

Fed by the history that Allister had experienced, Leta’s curiosity got the better. “So, child soldier?” She gave Atreus a cautious look, as if to show she didn’t wish to offend him.

“That was my situation, yes.” Atreus soothed her concern with an even expression, letting her know that he wasn’t offended by her question. “At the time, Greece was under Ottoman control, and it was expected that Greek families would send one son in every five to join the Janissaries. We were made to practice their religion and trained for combat in service to the Sultan. I was taught to fight from a young age, but I never forgot being pulled from my mother’s arms or how they beat my father that night for some ridiculous offense. Eventually, the Janissaries fought back against our masters, and I helped lead my small unit in the rebellion. I fell in battle, and rose as a Chosen, simple as that. We were more isolated in that area, so I continued to lead my men for several more days until a Chosen Merchant stumbled upon our group and brought me to the Sect here in Athens.”

“Have you been here this whole time?” Leta blinked, surprised.

“No,” Atreus answered with a shake of his head. “I was eventually moved from Athens to Alexandria in Egypt, then north towards where Norway is today, and then to a small village in modern Canada to run my first Sect. After World War II, I was asked to come back to Athens, and I have been here ever since.”

Leta turned and glanced expectantly at Hayato, who had held his posture during the entire car ride.

He did not answer for a long moment before responding crisply, “I died on the first of September, 1923, when part of a building collapsed on me during the Great Kanto Earthquake. I was lucky enough to be working inland as an apprentice at that time. If I had been home, I would have been swept out to sea with the rest of my family when the following tsunami struck our village. I was found by a Fisherman who brought me to the Sect in Osaka before being brought to South Africa to train, and then to Argentina. I have been with the Athens Sect since 2004.”

His tone was flat and almost mechanical as he quickly summarized what must have been an extremely painful memory.

‘Well, damn.’ Leta thought to herself, ‘and here I was feeling sorry for myself for getting stabbed by a rusty piece of alien tech.’

Hayato gave her a stern look out of the corner of his eye, “Do not feel pity for me, or any of us. We lived. We died. And now we live on with the mission that we have been gifted in exchange for our afterlife.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Allister sighed as he pulled the car off the main road and onto a less busy street, “To Rise means you must be one foot in the grave. You’ll always be tied to memories of a time and place that no longer exists.

“We are but modern ghosts,” Atreus remarked, his eyes shifting north towards the Acropolis that could just be seen for a moment between the buildings, “forever part of this existence and yet permanently detached from it, moving through the centuries as everything around you is in a constant state of life, death, and rebirth. Nothing more than shadows of history given flesh and a burning need to smite that which hunts the living.”

“Ah,” Allister waved Atreus’s melancholy aura away, “That’s not how I see it. I like to think of it as the Earthly equivalent of the Valhalla warriors. We continue to train and fight the good fight against the monsters that prey on this world until the next great battle with the Blessed. Just a bunch of idiots given a second chance, a weapon, and the general direction of something that needs killing.”

“You know what,” Leta tilted her head as she looked between the two of them, “That is probably the most accurate example of your personalities that I ever saw.”

Atreus opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, his face becoming filled with an expression of surprise

After a brief pause, Allister barked out a laugh that shook the vehicle.

“Well, bless me,” He chuckled as he wiped away a tear, “I think she’s right.”

Leta smirked, the man’s humor infectious. “I guess your afterlife is what you make of it.”

They shared a more comfortable silence, each person lost in their own thoughts as the local shops turned into tourist traps and unnecessarily expensive eateries as they neared their destination.

It wasn’t long before the National Artifact Museum could be seen ahead.

The sight of it didn’t fill her with the nervousness and dread she anticipated.

Instead, she experienced a sense of tranquility and a touch of anticipation, as though someone had enveloped her in a cozy blanket and offered her an energy drink.

The taste of adrenaline lingered on her tongue, a bitter reminder of the constant danger she faced, had desensitized her to the possibility of pain and suffering.

“I want you to know something.” Leta's voice remained steady and composed as Allister rolled down the window to swipe a key card for the museum’s private parking area.

The giant absently called over his shoulder, “What’s that, lass?” As the bar across the entrance raised and the vehicle’s tires rolled forward.

“Once this fight is over,” she continued, “and I have the Blade, I’m headed for Mount Parnassus.”

The team’s eyes widened like saucers, and their jaws dropped as her startling words felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over them. Even Hayato was looking at her with wide eyes, questioning her statement.

Atreus turned in his seat to give her a cold stare. “What?”

“Mount Parnassus is where my mom and the gargoyle were last spotted. I’ll start there and try to pick up the trail.” She answered with a conviction that she would succeed.

“H-How.” Allister swallowed, trying to get his words together in a cohesive sentence. “How do you expect to do that? You’ve no ability to track. You’ve no idea what direction they went in from there. Even if you managed to find their nest, you’re talking about a nest of gargoyles that would take at least two Sects to clean out. Also, you donna eve know if your mother’s still alive or no.”

“I’m faster than any of you guys,” Leta responded evenly, undisturbed by the appalled looks on their faces, “And my ability to absorb means I can get stronger as I go. I can’t explain, but my instinct says to go to the mountain. I am aware that it may not be very logical, but I need to go there. Either I return with her bones or I carry her back, but I need to do this.”

“And what of your father?” Atreus cautioned, “Do you think to abandon him with us?”

Leta paused, choosing her words carefully. “I’ll figure something out. Maybe Vigo will be able to be my dad’s caretaker as he goes through treatment. Maybe I can get them squared away in a secluded area safe from the Blessed or get medication from Dr. Kudela so he can come with me. I just… I have to see for myself if she’s alive.”

Allister pulled the car around and parallel parked it near the back entrance. At the door, two people dressed in dark collared shirts and jackets, which closely matched the outfits worn by the team, were visible to them.

‘Guards from the other Sect,’ Leta wagered.

“Do not jump to such a decision so quickly.” Atreus advised her, his dark eyes boring into hers, “We shall speak more on this when we return to the Sect. For now, I suggest you steel yourself for the fight ahead. You may be a Queen, but in their eyes you might as well be a toddler swinging her father’s sword. It’s time you showed them why you don’t fuck with Crowns.”

Ismene’s voice echoed in my mind, relaying the instructions with a firm yet sarcastic tone.

“Everyone loves a show. Make a statement.”

‘Yes,’ Leta purred to herself, the predator within her rising at the prospect of prey, ‘I think I can manage that’.