Chapter 1: The Calling
The ocean waves roared, their sound echoing through the crystalline towers of Atlantis, which spiraled intricately as if reaching for the heavens. Each tower reflected light uniquely, casting a rainbow of soft colors that danced in the air—a constant reminder of their divine grandeur. The golden sunlight shimmered on sapphire domes and streets paved with glimmering stones, where the inhabitants walked in harmony with the eternal rhythm of the city.
Atlantis was not just a myth or a forgotten legend. It was real, alive, and pulsing with the energy of millennia of wisdom.
At the heart of the city stood the Academy of the Twelve, a monumental structure of white quartz, surrounded by gardens of luminescent flowers whose petals glowed softly, swaying to the rhythm of the wind. The flowers' glow gave the area an ethereal atmosphere, as if every corner was wrapped in silent enchantment. It was here that the chosen children were trained to become part of the Council of the Twelve, guardians of order and balance between Atlantis and the outer worlds.
Morgana adjusted the navy-blue cloak that barely reached her knees as she walked through the echoing corridors of the Academy. Her small figure, only six years old, seemed even smaller under the towering arches. Her large green eyes, wide with curiosity, absorbed every detail around her. Yet, the fascination with the beauty of the place could not erase the whirlwind of emotions that had haunted her since the day she was taken from home.
"Sold," she thought, a pang of bitterness stabbing her chest. That’s how it felt. Her parents had given her away without explanation. Only evasive glances, a rushed goodbye, and silence. "Did they even know what this means?" she wondered, but the answer seemed as unreachable as the city’s towering spires.
— Don’t lag behind, Morgana! — called a firm voice from behind her. A tall woman with silver hair approached, her presence commanding effortless respect. It was Mistress Elyria, one of the most revered instructors at the Academy. Her eyes sparkled with wisdom. — Today is an important day. The Council will make the final selection.
Morgana nodded and quickened her steps, struggling to keep up with the woman. Although she was still a child, something within her understood the gravity of the moment. Elyria’s words echoed in her mind: "the final selection." A shiver ran down her spine.
They arrived at a circular room where the walls were adorned with mosaics depicting the Ancient Gods: Morrigan, Taranis, Dagda, Cerridwen, and others. Each figure seemed alive, their glassy eyes following every movement. The transparent ceiling projected prismatic light onto the floor, creating a sense of wonder and weight. In the center, twelve thrones sculpted from different materials—gold, silver, crystal—stood silently, awaiting their future occupants.
Elyria gestured for Morgana to stand at the center of the room. The girl’s heart pounded erratically, a mix of fear, anxiety, and something deeper—a curiosity she couldn’t yet understand. The shimmering mosaics seemed to pulse in response to her racing thoughts, as though the Gods themselves were watching.
Other children were in the room as well. Cerys, a dark-haired girl with bright eyes, appeared to mask her anxiety, her sharp gaze analyzing every detail of the space. Rhys stood with a serious posture, though the nervous glint in her eyes betrayed her curiosity. Aria, with delicate features and golden hair, stared at the thrones in fascination, while Brianna, with reddish hair and an unreadable expression, evaluated everything with quiet attention. Nerys, the smallest of the group, stood partially hidden behind Brianna, as if hoping to avoid attention.
On the opposite side stood the boys. Tristan, tall and determined, had a sharp, alert gaze. Donovan, with an easy smile, appeared relaxed, but his eyes scanned the room. Alec, calm and dark-haired, remained still, almost meditative. Blake, in contrast, tapped his fingers impatiently against his legs. Gareth had an analytical posture, while Finn, the warmest of the group, watched the others with a reassuring smile.
— Welcome, young candidates — said a deep voice that echoed through the room. The sound came from Kael, the current leader of the Council of the Twelve. Dressed in a white tunic embroidered with gold, he radiated authority and power. — Today, we confirm what destiny has already decided. You have been chosen to assume the seats destined by the Gods. From this moment, your journey as guardians begins.
Morgana felt a chill. Although she didn’t fully understand what this meant, part of her knew her life would change forever.
Draven, one of the instructors, observed in silence. His rigid posture made him seem like an extension of the imposing walls of the room. His cold, calculating eyes moved from child to child, as if each one was a piece on a chessboard he already planned to manipulate.
— Each of you has a special connection to the Gods — Kael continued. — Soon, your powers will begin to manifest. You will learn to use them to protect Atlantis and the worlds beyond our borders.
As Morgana listened, an unsettling thought crossed her mind: "What if I fail? What if I’m not strong enough?" The doubt took root in her chest like a growing shadow.
After the ceremony, Elyria announced the division of dormitories and training schedules.
As they walked to their quarters, Morgana, Cerys, and Rhys exchanged knowing looks, a silent understanding passing between them.
— Do you think our parents knew what this meant? — Morgana murmured.
Cerys hesitated before answering, her voice tinged with bitterness. — If they did, they didn’t say anything. Sold. That’s what we are.
Rhys let out a heavy sigh. — Sold to the Council — she said, with a hint of sarcasm. Silence settled among them, heavy and filled with unspoken doubts.
In the boys’ dormitory, Donovan tried to break the tension. — Well, looks like we’ll have to get used to each other. Who knows, maybe we’ll even end up liking this.
Tristan crossed his arms. — Like it or not, we don’t have a choice. We just need to be ready.
Blake chuckled nervously. — Easy to say. Wait until the powers start showing up… That’ll be interesting.
As the children adjusted to their new reality, Draven and Elyria watched from a distance. Draven leaned slightly toward Elyria, a cryptic smile on his lips.
— And so the journey begins — he murmured. — But I wonder… will they all survive this?
