By Gretchen Schloesser
Atlas sat tall on his ten-foot throne and gripped the trident in his right hand. “It is time.”
The throne sat atop the dais; the golden tendrils of the crest swirled like seaweed. The afternoon sunlight glinted against the metal and sent its reflections onto the courtyard’s dry ground.
Risto Bermuda swallowed against the lump in his throat, his stomach churning like the waves of a hurricane. “But my lord, Solara just had the babies.”
A sigh sank from Atlas’s lips. “It is most unfortunate.”
Risto’s long-serving role as the chief wizard to the king of Atlantis often afforded him sway with the country’s majesty. However, the short-tempered king also tended toward rash decisions. Atlas had not inherited the benevolence and restraint of his father before him.
Risto fingered the golden shackle on his wrist. “Surely we have time, my lord, before the humans—”
“The third squadron of humans just breached our maritime border. We cannot afford to let them continue onto our island. It is too dangerous for us. And for them.”
Please, no.
Images of Risto’s newborn triplets shone in his mind—their tan, sun-kissed skin like their mother’s and the shimmering birthmarks etched on all three chests identical to his own. A sure sign of the power that also ran through their veins. The power they would never grow to experience if Atlas’ decision was final.
As chief wizard, he’d sat through military meetings and strategy sessions for nearly two decades, planning for every contingency. But now that the moment was here, it felt… wrong.
“You know the law.” Atlas’s sea-blue eyes locked onto Risto.
Of course, he knew the law. It’d been drilled into him and every other citizen from the moment their schooling started at age four. Be invisible. Keep their land and citizens invisible. And above all else, no interaction with humans, lest they discover the hidden energy that powered their land and try to tap into it for themselves. The greedy, fragile humans would destroy both themselves and the Atlantes.
If only Risto had fled the country as a youth and hidden his birthmark, the mark that intertwined his existence to the very life force running through Atlantis.
Risto tempered his voice. “Your Highness, the law also states—”
The king of Atlantis banged his trident on the dais. “Enough!”
Risto hung his head, partially in deference and partially to hide his grief. “Yes, my lord.”
He touched the fetter on his wrist that magically bound him to the monarchy, wishing he could escape this forced fate. “At least can I say goodbye?”
Atlas pressed his hand flat against the armrest and rose to a standing position. “No one can know.” Locks of white hair swirled around broad shoulders as an ocean breeze gusted through the open window. “You know that.” He leveled his trident at Risto. “For Atlantis.”
Risto closed his eyes. Please fail. For once, please let my gift disappear.
The power within hissed as though ignoring his plea, surging through his body as a glowing ball of energy formed on his outstretched palm.
He echoed Atlas’s words in a whisper. “For Atlantis.”
Gold beams shot from the trident and connected with Risto’s raw power. White hot light filled the sky. A wave of energy sliced through air.
Silence.
Less than a second, and their land, their people, their everything would be extinct.
Please.
With a final breath, Risto cast a different wave of energy, threefold, and shot it to separate corners of the sea.
Then everything exploded.
***
The scorched, ruined landscape sat for a long moment, silent like it had always been a barren and desolate place. The land heaved a sigh, then lowered into the ocean as though being sucked into its very depths. Dark waves lapped over the continent until it swallowed its highest peak.
In the distance, three small, shining orbs bobbed far apart, connected as a triangle by thin, golden threads.
Atlantis.
A current of energy rippled along the thread, traveling to all three points.
We remember. And those who cross our borders shall, too.
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