Atlantean #1- Magic and Mirrors.

Atlantean # 1- Magic and Mirrors.

‘’Reality is Myth and Metaphor- Magic and Mirrors- stories created in time for the experiencer.’’
The Alchemy Of Time and Consciousness.

Prologue.

Aftershocks. The despondent tremble of the earth raised motes of dust in a coarse, discoloured fog. The great hulk of an island beneath her tiny feet shivers with the memory of the quake; the piercing scream of stone torn like rotted cloth, the thunderous crash as civilisation collapsed around their heads and crushed them like ants, as if to remind them all that they are no more than insects tossed into space. It was a warning, but she is too young yet to understand the nature of the destruction, and where it must inevitably end.
There is blood on her face, a thin film of crimson gel not yet completely dried. But it is not her blood. She has come through the quake uninjured, and later they will spin a thousand or more tales of how the gods descended in their multitudes to protect her. She knows better. For now the blood remains to remind her of the mortal sacrifice her mother has made to save her.
Her mother from the colonies in Luxor, her mother with her long silk strands of midnight-black hair, and the comforting bosom where she could rest her head and weep when the thunder in the earth rose to it's climax. Her mother, and the thick red spray from her mouth as she refused to pull herself free in case the rocks tumbled onto her child. Her mother wedged and crushed until her bones snapped like a hundred firecrackers set of simultaneously. Three-year old Layna vomited, and wept at the scalding of the acid in her throat.
''Mata'' she mumbled repeatedly in the True tongue like a charm to ward off evil, ''Mata, Mata mi lendi''. ''Mother, mother help me.''' Her voice resonated through caverns and valleys of debris.
The people of Aryan, an outpost island of Atlan, were buried in a bitterly ironic twist beneath their own handiwork. Only one person survived the quake that day, a little girl who tottered in the manner of young children over stacks of rubble, and through the haze of unsettled dust her blue eyes were raised hauntingly to the sky.


Part 1 – Magic.

Chapter 1.

Spires and bridges spanned the skies like intricate lacework sewn onto a pristine background of pale blue silk. Small, mercury powered aircraft hummed as they darted like silver arrows through the air towards the station, trailing plumes of violet smoke that dissipated almost instantly leaving no nasty environmental effects, the label ‘Trans-Atlantic’ printed in the lower tongue across their sides. Layna passed through promenades of ornate coloumns decorated in spiral motifs, between domed buildings and over bridges spun from marble and pearl.