A Small Spark

Stephen

“You are the firstborn, Stephen. You’re to inherit the throne. You’re to be the king.” Stephen felt like he could not breath. It was as though his throat had closed up and any possibility of breathing became nothing but a distant memory. He could finally sympathize with the character from The Lion King. Him? He questioned to himself. King?

Of course, he had contemplated what it would be like to be king before. What seven-year-old did not want to rule over the other seven-year-olds? He had never fully anticipated that he would ever be in line for a throne. He certainly did not come here for this. He had only wanted to find Atlantis, to find his parents. He did not know the first thing about being a king, especially to a place he had only ever dreamed about. A place where they could not even understand him without a translator.

Amaris muttered something to her friend. He was taller than her but only by a few inches. His dark brown hair was long, pulled into a band on the back of his head. Stephen was certain that he had heard Amaris call him Damon. And while he could not have been more than a few feet taller than Stephen himself, Damon seemed to tower over Stephen, Mason, and Julie. It was as though he demanded respect by his very presence.

Stephen was certain this Damon person was just a shorter version of Jason Momoa.

Amaris glanced back at Stephen and sighed. Was she disappointed in Stephen for some reason? He had always believed he could read and understand people. But Stephen had an inkling that he could try his whole life to understand Amaris and never be able to. She a mystery wrapped inside of an enigma.

Julie reached her hand across the table to turn off the translator. “I don’t trust her,” Julie whispered, even though it was clear they could not understand what Mason, Stephen, and Julie were saying.

“That’s because she pinned you against a wall,” Mason interjected. “It was pretty funny to everyone else.” Julie sent a glare at Mason while he turned the translator back on. Stephen, like Julie, was not amused by Mason’s comment. It was not funny in the least to him to see his girlfriend, his wonderful Julie, pinned against a wall with a knife to her throat. He had really, truly, believed that Amaris was going to do something awful to her.

Stephen glanced back at Amaris, studying her for a moment. Mason trusted her, it was clear by the way he had talked back to Julie just now. She was unconventional in her methods, certainly. But Mason trusted her. And Stephen, subconsciously, began to trust her as well. Perhaps this was because he was her brother. Or, perhaps, it was the fact that everyone here respected her. Amaris did not want a family, did not believe in the power of family. But Stephen did. And maybe that was why he trusted her. He just simply trusted family.

Just as it had begun to snow once more, the sun set, casting an end to the day. The weariness of the last few days hit Stephen like a flood, forcing him, Mason, and Julie to return to cabin six in hopes of soon resting their tired bodies.

In total, there were twelve bunks in their room alone and seven more rooms in the entire cabin. They should have known that their precious seclusion would be interrupted with the arrival of others in the cabin. The door the cabin opened just as Stephen, Mason, and Julie had fallen to the floor in exhaustion, discussing the day’s events with one another.

There came a knock on their room door. “It’s open,” Stephen called, not wanting to stand up from his place on the floor.

Damon entered first with the translator in his hands. Behind him, Amaris entered the room. “She wants to apologize for this afternoon.” Damon gave her a pointed look. She was frowning at him and sighed with exaggeration.

“Yeah, that,” she muttered. Stephen assumed that was enough of an apology.

“What are these cabins from?” Mason inquires.

“From the revolution,” Amaris replied as though that would solve everything. Her tone did little to keep the confusion from Mason, Julie, and Stephen’s faces. She glanced around at their faces. She sighed as though they were exhausting her. “Sure,” she conceded. “I’ll tell you guys.” She and Damon sat down on the floor beside them. And they told the story of the Lost City of Atlantis.

“Long ago, Atlantis had a part in the rest of the world. Plato, a great philosopher, visited the city and told of its greatness, its beauty and splendor. It was far more advanced than any other city in the world, far more advanced than any tribe or nation or any place in all of the world. It was magnificent. Then, one day, the seven kings decided to go to war with Athens. A day after returning from their loss, a tsunami hit and swallowed up the city, thought to have destroyed everyone and everything that once was.

“But it did not. You see, there was a scientist in that day named Asvor. He worked on patterns in the ocean. He saw the tsunami coming and built, with permission from the kings, a wall with this special glass forged from purple crystals, encasing every inch of Atlantis.”

“It wasn’t crystals,” Damon interjected, interrupting the flow of Amaris’ words. She glanced at him and rolled her eyes.

“What was it then?” she asked, exasperated.

“I don’t remember,” Damon returned. “But really? Crystals, Amaris? What sense does that make?”

“Damon, I am telling the story and I say that it was crystals.”

“You don’t always have to be right, Amaris,” Damon stated.

“Would you like to tell the story?”

“Yes, I would,” he replied, a smirk flickering across his features.

“Well, sorry. I am telling it. Anyway, Asvor thought that the wall would protect the great city, which it did, but when the water came, it pushed down on the wall, forcing it into the sea. Atlantis would be trapped at the bottom of the ocean forever.

“The seven kings were naturally furious with Asvor. It became known that Asvor only wanted to sink the great city in order to keep the secrets of Atlantis in the confines of its walls. He famously said, ‘We share the greatness of our city and it will not be great anymore. They can’t have our city.’ They locked him in the dungeons, to be imprisoned the rest of this life. He died a few years later.

“About a century ago, long after the dissolution of seven kings and institution of the Council, a man claimed the throne for himself, forcing everyone to follow his rules and law. A revolution started in protest. The revolution won, but Atlantis had been on shaky ground ever since. The new government only lasted so long before it inevitably failed. These cabins are from that revolution. The people had once tried to defend themselves here but failed. Leaving King Aston in charge of Atlantis.

“He was a prideful king. He boasted about his victory. He killed anyone who did not follow him. He sired many women and sent his children among Atlantis as officials. The people hated him. Most lost their children to his cruel ways. When his wife died, he soon married a woman named Adalia, the most beautiful woman in all of Atlantis. She cared for everything and everyone. He soon grew careless in his love for her and she, too, loved him.

“The people began to rebel against Aston. They pushed the rebellion up to the gates of the palace. King Aston sent army after army to the gates, but the fight pressed on. The leader, Alon, drew his sword at Aston, but Aston would not relent. He drew his knife, and killed Alon where he stood. Aston picked up Alon’s sword and killed man after man, single handedly bringing down the rebellion. Alon stumbled to Aston and with his last breath asked, ‘How are you doing this?’ Aston simply replied, ‘I didn’t become king by being weak.’ Aston stabbed Alon again. A moment later, Along was dead.

“Aston ran to his wife’s chambers, only to find her barely hanging onto life. ‘I love you’ being her last words as he cradled her in his arms. He removed the knife from her chest and held her close to him. Overcome by grief, he took the wives of every family in Atlantis. With a third of them, he burned them at the stake. Another third he hanged publicly. And with those remaining, he tortured. Every family in all of Atlantis was affected. Every family except for one. One family he let go free. The family of his wife, his father and mother in law and their children. He let them live in the memory of his wife.

“Aston died of old age and his took the throne, being as cruel and vile as his father before him. King Ash left his throne to his firstborn, King Jonathan, who was forced to relinquish his right to Ahab, who has lived in power ever since.” She took a deep breath and Stephen’s eyes.

Stephen felt as though she was peering into his very soul in that one look. Somehow, she knew exactly the questions on his mind. “We are the Rising. Matthias is temporarily the leader until we locate Castor. Matthias is trying to bring about the revolution, slowly and quietly. The people are scared of Ahab, and even more so of his son, Alstor. Fear drives people. Dimitri Marinus is part of the Lykoi, a group of outdated vigilantes. They are not peaceful like the Rising. They kill without a second thought. They don’t even care when innocents get in the way. That is why I don’t trust Dimitri. He harms even the innocent. There is not telling what he will do when Ahab is out of power.”

“Mare, he’s not like Tal,” Damon said gently, his voice soft. She shook her head, uncaring. Stephen did not inquire what they meant by this.

“You should probably sleep,” she suggested to them. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.” She and Damon stood up and left the room. Stephen could heard them open the door to the next room over. Silence descended upon Julie, Mason, and Stephen, the only noise echoing through the cabin being the slight humming of the chatter between Damon and Amaris, barricaded by the wall.

With a deep sigh of exhaustion, Stephen chose a bunk and laid down on the ready-made bed. Julie and Mason quickly followed suit, shutting off the light as they climbed into their respective beds.

Stephen glanced over at Julie’s bed, facing the wall as she wrapped the blankets around her. He knew that she was only sharing a room with them because she was afraid of sleeping alone in this strange place. That was something that Stephen could relate to. For half a second, Stephen considered telling her that she could share a room with Amaris. He smiled as he contemplated the chaos that would ensue.

Mason, on the other hand, seemed completely at home in the strange bunks they had been given. He shifted in his bed for only a few minutes before slipping into a deep sleep, filling the room with his snores.

Stephen could not fall asleep, no matter how many times he shifted in his bed or the amount of times he tried counting sheep. He turned to face the all, but even with his eyes closed, he was simply too awake to sleep. The events of the day played over in his mind like a broken record. Him? King? It simply did not make sense. He could not be the king of this strange and bizarre place. Perhaps, there was some mistake?

It was around three in the morning when he heard the noise. The noise was subtle and Stephen would not have heard it if he was not already awake. It was a small creak of the door opening and closing slowly. He heard footsteps as they moved passed their door to Amaris’. Stephen waited until he heard the footsteps, more this time, pass the door once again and plunge into the cold outside. Stephen did not think fully through his decision before he followed them himself, grabbing the translator on the way.

It was bitterly cold outside, the snow had picked up, heavier now than it was before. Stephen saw Damon far ahead of him with someone that he assumed to be his sister by the build of the person. The people stepped inside the mess hall where it was warmer.

Stephen decided he could not give now, so he walked clear around the mess hall to the other side, and in through the back door. He crept in the shadows, feeling like some sort of spy. He ducked behind a nearby take, unseen.

As it turned out, the girl was no Amaris like he had been anticipating. It was the woman who was always with that Matthias guy. “What do you want me to say?” she heard the girl question. “You want me to tell you that I’m sorry? There, I said it, I’m sorry.” She said “sorry” like she was a Canadian. It sounded more like “sorey” than “sorry.”

“Don’t try to pretend with me, Lyla. Don’t forget that I could always see through your lies. Or most of them, I suppose,” replied Damon.

“You’re still in love with me, I understand that,” Lyla stated.

“For Poseidon’s sake, woman! Lyla, the only reason we’re having this discussion is because you’re tired of Amaris punishing you for your actions. I’m never going to tell her to stop something when she’s put her mind to it. Sorry but what happens is because of you.”

Amaris could see that this thoroughly annoyed Lyla, but she took a deep breath and let out the longest sigh in all of human history. She opened her mouth to say more, but Damon stood up angrily and left the room.

She quickly raced after him. Stephen waited a minute before standing up, too, ready to return to his warm bed.

“Listening in on private conversations is rude,” he heard someone say from behind him. Stephen turned to find Damon staring at him. He was undeniably angry, not amused in the least. “You are lucky that you’re Amaris’ brother. Otherwise, you’d be dead by now,” he stated. He pushed Stephen out of the doors of the mess hall. Once outside, he cooled off a little. Turning on a flashlight, he laughed.

“What?”

“I thought you were going to be Amaris,” he muttered. “She’s too curious for her own good.” Before they reached the cabin, she asked him what he happened between him and Lyla. He shook his head and said that it was none of his business.

Stephen glanced up at a tree and noticed a bird sitting on a branch. This was the first creature he had seen since he got there. He wondered if animals were fairly common in Atlantis or not. Stephen asked Damon about the bird, whether they were common in Atlantis. His face grew serious and glanced up too.

He held the light higher so that he could see the bird as well. There was no one but hundreds of birds of all colors, shapes, and sizes glaring down at them. “Run,” he shouted.

And they ran to the cabin like fire was after them. Once inside, Damon charged into Amaris’ room, where she was sitting staring at the wall.

“About time,” she said. “What did she–?” Then she saw the worried look on Damon’s face.

“We got birds,” he told her urgently. Her face contorted into an exasperated look and stood up. She grabbed a bow and handed it to her.

“We’re going to need more light,” she instructed Damon. He nodded and started tapping away at his tablet device. Stephen tried to see what he was doing, but Amaris kept handing him weapons. “What are you good with? Bows? Knives? Bellums?”

“What is a bellum?” Stephen asked, since no one had showed him. Amaris sighed and held up a gun. “Oh, you mean a gun.”

“It’s a bellum,” she said, frowning. “Is that what you call it?”

“Yeah, it’s called a gun.” Stephen took the gun. Mason’s dad used to take them out all the time to a shooting range. He said it was an important skill to have. She handed him a vest full of extra bullets or what she called “saira.”

Stephen glanced out the window to see a flock of birds circling the cabin. There seemed to be more now. The longer he looked, the brighter outside it grew. Stephen could only assume it was Damon’s doing.

Amaris grabbed his arm and pushed him down the hall, through the door. “Whatever you do, don’t stop until they’re all dead.”

Stephen was, naturally, still confused as to why they were murdering a flock of birds, but he was beginning to accept that he would never fully understand what was happening in this world.