Port of Poseidonia
[Atlantis' Dark Powers] Let us not all believe Atlantis did not have its secrets and shady powers, for it surely did. And this sketch will bring forth, one of them. (Part I) The Port and the Tower The seaport, harbor city of Poseidonia, an island-continent known as Atlantis, during the period this story took place it was under the archrulership of Phrygian, and his High Priest Xandore: thus, the High Priest was drinking mead from a great horn. It was a placid day, the first day of spring, and a jubilee, with all its festivities would start soon, a jubilee to celebrate life, the beginning of breathe and both the King and High Priest were in good spirits. The King requested that the High Priest accompany him to the High Tower, the highest tower in Poseidonia, to its summit, some fifteen hundred feet up a stairway, far above the lowest walls of the great port city. There, to the great demigod Poseidon, he would make his offerings, and possibly to the goddess Isis, who had taught the great king sorcery, and great magic, whom was also the goddess of fertility for his kingdom, and would hopefully bless his Archkingdom. (Poseidon, whom was the brother of Zeus, and god over the seas, was once ruler of Atlantis, and his daughter was named for the land, he would in time be equated with Neptune by the Romans, but he was in Atlantis long before that reputation came about.) And so the king and priest, walked diligently to the tower doors, the priest drinking from his horn intermittently. As they walked the last few steps to the tower entrance, which lead into the main, and private tower room, the High Priest could hear the drumming of evil manifest itself in the form of shadows, and the shadows were playing pipes behind him" ?sounds, rhythms, macabre chimes, which brought forth grotesque images to the mind, as he neared the last step to the tower, the tower he had never been to before, that no man had been to before, no man but the king. If anything, it was, or could be considered an honor to be allowed to simply be invited to go there. He presupposed it would be a shrine there, or two, for the god and goddess of his liking, which were, for the most part, Poseidon and Isis. The king had a slim ripper attached to his royal belt around his waist. And again I say they had but a few more steps of the long and arduous climb to the top of the tower's main room. The king hardly puffing for air" ?not the least exhausted, and the High Priest, as weak as could be after the climb, gasping for air, relief, wanting to lean against the walls, but he dare not, lest the king feel him not able to do his duties, and a weakling, and therefore be dismissed from his high position; as a result, he did not linger on any support, but used his knees to keep balance. The Tower and Agaliarept The High Priest now had finished his mead, behind him shadows clashing as if one was fighting the other over something, but it could simply be his imagination he pondered, it was the mead and the long expedition up the unending flight of stairs talking and producing images in his mind, so he told himself, yes, oh yes, the imagination of the mind, so he told himself: it can produce many such things. The priest looked down the winding staircase; it seemed a mile down, ten-thousand miles down. Then the king opened the large solid thick door to the tower room, and as they entered" ?a dozen footsteps followed, followed beyond the threshold where a chill was waiting to grab, yet it was warm outside in the city, this spring forenoon. The bleakness of this room, illkept, tapestries torn down, holes in the carpet, the window open to the clouds, the smell of corpses reeking from its walls: a room with no furniture, the stink filled ones throat to the vomiting stage, yet it did not take hold of the king, only the High Priest. The king lit a fire, not sure how it got lit, but all of a sudden a wick in oil within a glass had bust into sputtering smoke and flames. It was with difficulty the priest adjusted his vision, trying to examine his surroundings. The room was like a nine sided cube and again I must point out, it stunk suffocatingly. (A deep-throated chuckle came from a shadow leaping off the walls; it had entered the room with the two. The High Priest stepped cautiously away from the voice ((the voice being from the infamous Agaliarept, the henchman from Hell)). Said Xandore, to his mind's eye, 'What crime is being perpetrated here (?)' He gazed about silently. Again a voice boomed out of an invisible mouth, a shadow of a mouth, an echoing that bounced off the walls; cold sweat drenched his body. At that given moment, that very second, that instance, the king was doing some incantations. His hands moving about as if to settle in a prayer style form; the High Priest now clawing at his tunic. The shadow seemed to be transforming" ?back and forth" ?into a hunchback form, demonic form, a horse like head, with a human body, long finger nails as if they were spikes, talons. His feet were deformed, large, as he was seemingly large; muscular, and hairless almost; with dog like ears. The red lips of the king spoke: "Fool, you are the spring sacrifice to the gods,"? then he pulled out his ripper and embedded it deep into his chest. The priest bellowed, and blood spurted all about. The king looked down upon this dying figure: with his high face bones, fleshless appearance, sharp aquiline nose, two emerald eyes" ?which showed a flat affect. To all humanity, the High Priest was dead, yet the king knew his soul was still in the body, the body being its coffin for the present. It would leave soon. His eyes were shut, the upper body naked to the hips now, a film of blue deathly coldness covered his body, a wax like white to his face. There was no more respiration or cardiac activity. As the body laid there it became spongy like, akin to rotten dough. The king still waiting for the vile odor and the soul to leave, whereupon integration would take place with Agaliarept penetrating his body, a transfiguration was about to take place: at this moment came a snickering of the unearthly voice of Agaliarept, "Let me in,"? he sounded, sickening harshly, for only the king had the power to grant such a request. Calm the king was to the imp, telling him to be patient, for still the soul of the priest was linked to the body by a thread, but after four hours, the king gave the permission and the demon materialized within the body of the priest as a huge configuration now, huge within the room also, as his shadow covered the floor and ceiling" ?; he had seeped into the dead body as if being sucked into a cyclone. Faint and dizzy the lapsed soul of the priest was, hence, could no longer hang onto his body, and therefore let go of it, as the unholy spirit filled the void inch by inch. The king ostensibly had it timed just perfect. The human offering was made to Beelzebub, Isis, and Poseidon, as their ensemble entered the cold body" ?completely. Said the king to the dead corpse, knowing his spirit was still within the room, "You were hungry for power" ?you are here, and now I give you wisdom, with much training you will be able to learn how to speak without a voice producing organ, until then, be gone...."? Said Agaliarept, in his new body, standing side by side of the king, looking out into the twilight at the crimson stars, "Skeptical fool he was,"? looking out of the side of his eye, the long part of his eye--at the King, as if, if his day may come" ?they both remained silent. Agaliarept had a rightful glare and he appeared weathered and ghastly yellow. But the world would not know the difference of who was who, even with his bloodless lips, expressionless skull, his dry grin, lack of personality, they would not dare speak even if they guessed the body was the shell of the henchman. |
