Blood and Sand (17 page)

39

I slowly and methodically make my way down the left hand stairs, the one leading towards the pyramid. The walk through the leafy
forest takes a few minutes, but it’s all a dream anyway so I might as well take my time. What’s the rush?

I pass a few families picnicking and some more children playing in the trees themselves. The scene reminds me of when I used to play in the tree outside my grandparent’s house in Lake Worth.

I pick an apple from a nearby tree and examine it. The fact I could actually touch it tells me I’m in no ordinary dream again. It’s actually there! Sitting in the palm of my hand is what looks like a Granny Smith—my favorite. I hold healthy green fruit up to my nose a sniff. It even smells like a real apple.

“Aw, what the hell,” I say and bite into its perfectly polished skin. It’s the most delicious apple I’ve ever had. Nothing new or different, it’s just so fresh and perfectly grown.

That’s when I notice my head clearing of exhaustion and my body returning to its usual strength. I flex my arms and legs.
Dang, I may even be stronger than normal.
I’ve never felt better in fact, not even when I was in peak physical condition playing ball.

I look down at the apple. The inside of the fruit has a very soft, golden color fused into its flesh.
Hmmm,
I mumble to myself rubbing my chin.
The apples back home don’t have that. I wonder what it is.
I shrug off my discovery, not knowing anything beyond what I’ve seen, and continue my stroll through the shade of the trees. As I finish, I hear birds singing in the trees, of which I haven’t been able to spot. Eating the apple down to its core, I look around and find a barrel labeled
trash
, tossing in my completed snack.

Wait a second
! I race over to the waste basket, kneeling in front of it, inspecting the writing. I then trace my figure over the gold leaf print, probably looking like a lunatic to everyone, but no one seems to be paying attention to me.
Or they don’t even see me,
I think, glancing around. The label is written in a language I know I’ve never been able to read before—the same language inscribed on the statues of the Atlantean kings.

“I can read ancient Atlantean!” I say to myself, astonished at what I’ve just learned.

“What the hell was in that Granny?” I ask rhetorically.

I look back up and see the gleaming pyramid through the branches of an orange tree and decide to test a theory, taking off in a sprint. I run like a maniac, weaving through throngs of people, never slowing. I feel my natural lactic burn coming on, then it’s gone, faded away along with my muscle fatigue and labored breathing. I don’t tire, not one bit.

I smile and put on even more speed. I’ve never ran at this pace for this long. I push myself faster and faster, until I run out of real estate and skid to a halt, right at the edge of the courtyard.

The patio looks the same as before, except it’s in full color and not in the various shades of dreariness like before. The grass looks just as soft, but green and the many statues gleam white in the day light.

Day light?
I never thought to look. How is there any light in here at all without the lava flow?

Looking up towards the now visible ceiling, I notice that there seems to be a massive amount of glowing crystals imbedded into the stone above. They give off their own light and assist in giving life to this amazing place.
How do they glow?

Another question for another time,
I think and set off through the patio of…peace.

I remember when Kane named this place the Patio of Pain. It was so fitting at the time. The pain and suffering that was being felt here was sickening. Nannot’s own hate and malice literally destroyed this place. Even the scenery changed because of his remorseless revulsion for the human race.

Towards his own family.

I remember the priests calling him brother during their epic battle. Why would he want to bring this place to the ground and tear down everything his people had achieved here?

It’s then I notice the crowds thinning out. There is barely anybody in this section of the necropolis. I wonder why?

Because they are gone. This is a dream after all. We show you what we remember, not what still exists,
I hear, the familiar voice speaking in my head.

I turn my eyes up to the shining statue of Thoth and see three figures hunched over, in reverence to their king. They stand as one, finishing with their worship, and turn to face me, their heads cloaked in hoods.

Plus,
the center one continues.
The lush landscape is what drew people here, not the memorials and reliefs. The citizens of An’tala would need to come down here a few times a year to recharge their bodies.

“Recharge?” I ask.

Yes, the life giving elements of the fruit is what allowed the people here to live as long as they did.

“Life giving elements…the golden hue in the apple I just ate?”

They nod in unison.

So it IS something they put in the food.

They go to turn.

“Wait!” I yell. “What are your names?” They stop and turn back toward me.

The middle one steps forward and slightly bows.

I am Rahji-itza, the First Elder.

Then the right one,
I am Qaaft, the Second Elder.

And then the one on my left,
And I am Kylak, the Third Elder.

I step forward.

“My name is Hank, Hank Boyd, and for some reason you all think I’m some chosen hero or something.”

They stand as still as stone for what seems like ten minutes, but is probably closer to ten seconds. Then all at once, they reach up and remove their hoods, exposing themselves to me for the first time. 

I stumble back and fall on my ass, shocked at what I see. None of the warrior priests are wearing their battle gear or masks. They are completely exposed and it’s something I never would have guessed and something I’ll never forget.

40

What the…they’re…
freaks
? They honestly look like they should be traveling in a circus, not defending a kingdom from a rogue enemy. Each of them still stands at eight feet tall, even without their battle armor and masks. Their bodies are still impressively built, lean yet powerful, but the faces…they’re all wrong.

Their eyes are similar and strange all at once. They have the eyes of a human and are the color of the orichalcum alloy, and they move. Not the eyes themselves though. It’s the irises, they shift and swirl, like the clouds would on a stormy day.

But that’s not even the strangest thing about them.   

Their mouths are the biggest oddity, as in, they have none. It’s just a blank canvas of scarred flesh where the lips should be. How do they eat, or drink? I know they communicate by way of telepathy, but I didn’t expect this. I just thought it was easier to think your conversations than to say them. I thought they chose not to speak. Man, was I wrong.

“What are you?” I ask mentally, knowing there could still be a language barrier. It’s an honest question, with no malice behind it.

They seem to understand the true meaning of the question.

Lord Thoth offered us a choice,
the one named Rahji-itza answers.
Live forever in his service, or die like any other mortal that has come after us. There were obviously some unforeseen side effects.

No kidding?

“So the people here would eventually die? Even with the additive in the food?”

Yes,
the weaker formula in the food here will extend your lifespan, but not make you immortal.

Then he gets back to my first question.

Our elixir, the pure and undiluted of the two, caused our bodies to grow stronger and never wilt with time. Our minds as well, they never age or lose function as we…grow older. He then trained us in his ways and taught us how to use our newly developed gifts.

“I still don’t understand. Live forever, as in eternal life?”

Yes, he trusted only us to continue on here, guarding the necropolis. But as mortals we had our limitations. We would eventually die and cease to exist just like everyone else.
             

“How did Thoth do this, how did he even know how to?” I’m perplexed that an ancient king could even conceive the idea of immortality, let alone formulate a way to make it work.

Lord Thoth was an ordinary human at one point in his life. But like every culture, some are inherently different, more curious than others. One day he watched a star fall from the sky—”

“A meteorite?”

Yes,
Rahji-itza continues.
What you would call a meteor fell from the heavens, just outside the village where he lived. He set out to explore the landing spot and found an impact crater. He climbed down to inspect his find and found a stone
.”

“A stone? That’s it?”

Yes, he found a stone, a stone that glowed of bronze and gold.

“Orichalcum! He found orichalcum in the crater? Wait! He found it in the impact crater of a fallen object from space? You’re telling me that orichalcum is alien in origin! Where did it come from? Who made…” I put my hands to my head and almost start to hyperventilate at the revelation.

We do not know its source, neither did our master. And yes, Lord Thoth was the first of your kind to find a relic not of this world, from an unknown Origin
.

I can
see
the conversation in my head and immediately notice the play on words.

“Origin?”

Our king would come to call us Origin. He our leader and we his followers
. 

I still can’t believe what I just learned. Everything I’ve ever read about Atlantis and its foundation—all of it is pure garbage compared to this knowledge.

I put my thoughts back together, “What happened next?”

He cut into the fallen remnant and extracted a section. He brought it back to his home where he conducted some experiments. He tried and failed many times to learn anything he could about the stone, but he learned nothing. Eventually, he decided to do something rash. He ground up a small portion of it into a fine powder and then mixed it into his drinking water—

“He drank it? Without knowing what it was? That was absolutely insane!” I turn around and start to pace, trying to put together the pieces of this remarkable puzzle.

Perhaps
, Rahji-itza nods in agreement.
But, like I said before, Thoth was a little different, how do you say…reckless.

I stop and look back up to the elders. Reckless? That’s what everyone thought of me growing up and what my dad
still
thinks of me now.
 

I shake off the unnerving comparison and continue, “So why was the necropolis built to honor your past leaders, if you’re immortal?”

WE are immortal. THEY were not,
he says pointing towards one of the memorials.
We were the only ones our master gave this too. He chose us because he foresaw the end of his empire here. We were his last pupils. He instilled in us everything he knew and gave us the abilities to restrain him.

“Restrain? Restrain who, Thoth?” I ask not understanding.

He shakes his head.

Isn’t it obvious? We were charged to be our fallen brother’s keepers—his wardens. We are still here to make sure he doesn’t escape
.

My face goes white and my stomach drops.

“The fire frozen in time, it’s Nannot’s prison cell?”

They nod again together, but no one looks back up to me. They just stare at the floor with a look of sorrow on their faces.

“Who is he, Nannot? Is he really your brother?”

They just nod again, looking even more down in the dumps.

This time the one named Qaaft looks up to me. He speaks for the first time, though his voice sounds exactly like Rahji-itza’s.

Nannot never took to our master, Thoth. He claimed favoritism between him and the rest of us. Once infused with our abilities, Nannot became empowered and selfish and wanted to use his gifts for his own gain. We steadfastly believed in what our king charged us with
.

He glances back down to the floor and Kylak continues in his place.

Once Nannot defied Lord Thoth he was defeated, but not executed, per the custom. Lord Thoth used his own skills to capture Nannot’s very essence—his soul. He was locked away in his fiery tomb forever, until…

“Until what?”

One thing our King did not anticipate was that Nannot developed the ability to feed off the hate and anger of the world. It must have been a self-learned technique. As time went on and the population of the world multiplied…”

“So did the world’s hatred and bloodlust, giving Nannot more fuel for his fire,” I finish.

We began seeing our people acting irrationally, like they were being controlled. Only did we later learn that it was he who reached out to those too weak to fight back. He was trying to finish what he started from beyond his own body
.

“Like create a bunch of monsters?”

Unfortunately, Lord Thoth taught us everything he knew. Some of those teachings included how to enter a living beings body and alter their code
.

I react with a look of shock and disgust, “He taught you how to play God?”

Yes, but we were forbidden to use such disregard. Our brother had a different take on things. He believed it was his right to tinker with the human existence
.

I think back to Rhonar, the Rhino-man. The pure agony that resonated through his body when trying to fight off Nannot’s mental incursion sends chills up my spine. I close my eyes and blink back tears. Nothing, man or beast, should have to go through something like that.

It’s obvious that their brother didn’t have a moral compass and has abused it more than once by the number of empty pedestals in the courtyard.

He began to forget that he was once human just like us, just an unwanted child
.

“Unwanted?” The stories of people abandoning their children have always struck me as one of the most heartbreaking things imaginable.

             
We were an unusual birth in our time. We were four children born at the same time by the same mother
.

“Quadruplets,” I say. “Actually, it’s not all that uncommon anymore.”

Good
,
I would hate for the children of your time to be treated as outcasts, like we were. Only Lord Thoth saw us as something good, something worth saving. Our mother did not survive the birthing, so he is all we had
.

“So he became your surrogate father. That’s why you were so loyal to him from day one, and that’s why you still are to this day.”

I’m starting to get the emotional connection they have to their king. I’m also seeing how hard it must have been for them all. On one side you have an emperor who needs to do what’s best for his people, in this case it’s to evacuate. And on the other side, he asked his
sons
to stay behind to keep watch on their traitor of a sibling.

Man, it must have been one Hallmark Channel level goodbye,
I think to myself.

Then something they said finally hits me. They said that they are
still
keeping their brother at bay. Does that mean they are still alive?

They nod as one, reading my thoughts.

Yes, Hank Boyd, we are still here…and so is he.