Atlantis

The Canvas Sack

Chapter One

A magnificent city once existed in the middle of the ocean. No one was quite sure where, but sailors lost at sea had happened upon it every once and a while, and when returned to their world, delirious from lack of fresh water and food, were never taken seriously. Hallucinations, longings of the mind, it was said to be. And yet the stories continued to come in through the years, creating a source of entertainment for the night in some broken down pub to be passed on to others.

But the tales lived on in myth or ballad form to be sung by the fireside on a cold winters’ night. It was fabled that buildings of wondrous architecture spiraled high above the small stone homes and shops of the thriving civilization. Cobbled streets wound in and out of alley ways, always full of bustling people. The smell of fish and mangoes was always wafting on the light breeze, causing any passerby’s mouth to water uncontrollably. Water gardens of mysterious feeling were dotted across the small plot of land, along with crystal caves abundant in amethyst. It was fit for any fairy tale, and every child who had heard it wanted nothing more than to discover the magickal city that had sunk beneath the ocean.

“Jenessa!” A loud voice rung out among the crowd, chastising the young woman being addressed in a condescending manner. The merchants had arrived in the port city of Skeirm, and as tradition permitted, a festival where they showed off their wares to all. The bard Len, always told the tale of the city of Atlantis, and each year, no matter her age, Jenessa continued to come and hear her wonderful story. Ever since she was a child, it had captured her imagination, filling her brain with ideas of discovering the lost city. “This is no time to participate in childish folly. Come, help me buy what we need, and you may buy a trinket of sorts if you wish,” her aunt said, turning her nose up at the ragged minstrel surrounded by the small group of adolescents.

Jenessa grimaced. She knew the day would come when it would no longer be acceptable for her to listen to her favorite story. But, she had hoped that she would be able to hear it one last time before she turned sixteen, the age when she was considered available to young men’s requests of marriage or courting. Sighing, she picked up her weathered hand-woven reed basket and jogged to catch up to her aunt.

A smile tugged at her relative’s features. Not a nice pleasant one expressing joy in sharing her company, but one of pure smugness at the knowledge of ruining her niece’s favorite part of the festival. It was necessary, though, she thought. She was almost a woman, and needed to discard all of those horrible childish habits. No man would want her if she remained that way with an imagination and strong will for adventure.

Both figures walked serenely through the market square, stopping occasionally to admire a piece of jewelry or clothing, murmuring praises to the shopkeeper, but always moving along before they could get themselves to draw out their waning purse of copper and bronze coins. When they came across the apothecary, they bought simple tinctures for the upcoming cold and flu season as well as infusions and some dried herbs and spices. Despite her aunt’s protests, Jenessa bought a book promised by the seller to contain wonderful adventures with pirates and the like. It was looked down upon when a woman could read and write, but Jenessa pretended not to hear when it was brought up.

“Educated women,” men would mutter and stalk away from her as if she possessed a horrendous stench. “What a pity,” women would cluck and sniff into their handkerchiefs as it were suddenly saddening enough to cry over.

Content with their newly acquired possessions, they headed back toward their small cottage halfway between the market square and outskirts of the city. Laden with brimming baskets, the two women did not notice that someone was following them until they were upon their doorstep. Len, the bard had hobbled after them, a overflowing canvas bag slung across her shoulder.

“Do not invite her in,” snarled Jenessa’s aunt. “You may talk for a little, but make haste for dinner must be upon the table half past the hour.

Jenessa glanced quickly up at the clock tower a few blocks from her home, and noted that she had only a few minutes before she had to go chop the fresh vegetables for the stew. “Yes, Diana,” she replied smoothly, her mind already sifting through the possi-bilities of Len’s intent.

“Len, how nice to see you again!” Jenessa said, brightening up as she approached. “I had not expected to see you until next year.”

Len, however, did not look as eager to speak to her. It seemed as if she was debating whether she should turn around and forget whatever she wanted to do in the first place. Frowning, she shook of her second thoughts and halted a hairsbreath from the steps. Her back was in too much pain to climb them. Seeing this, Jenessa descending them gracefully and stood next to her friend.

“Here,” Len said gruffly handing Jenessa the canvas sack with its many heavy contents. The scroll contains the story of Atlantis, which I know you are most fond of. I had it specially copied down for you by a scribe. The book, however, is confidential, and its contents are not to be spoken of aloud,” she whispered, lowering her voice as she said it.” The objects fit with the book and you will soon discover their purpose—”

“Wha—” Jenessa asked, her brows tightly knit in confusion. None of what she was saying was making sense. Except for the scroll that Len had professionally copied for her. Suddenly understanding, she dug into her pocket and dropped a single copper coin into Len’s wrinkled hands.

Then, Len’s voice rung out in the abandoned alley, its tone gone until she was barely audible above the constant crash of waves on the wharves. It was the voice of prophecy. Len was a Seer! “You shall use these resources as your guide. They will lead you to the end of the world, the middle of the ocean, and there you will discover what you seek most. And, beneath the frothing waves, is your destiny. Among your ancestors you shall once more tread, fulfilling the Prophecy of Atlantis. It may be your demise…only time will reveal…”

Len’s eyes rolled back into her head as she spoke the last word, her body crumpling from exertion of power. Jenessa caught her frail form just before she hit the ground. Nervous, she sat her up comfortably against the stairs until she came to. Her eyes cracked open, and she grinned. She unscrewed the top of her canteen and began to drain it.

“Damn, I hate when that happens,” she said smacking her lips as the last of the mead slid down her throat, pleasantly warming her insides. “So, it begins,” she whispered, and hopped up from the ground and shuffled away with more speed than Jenessa had ever seen her display before. That was a particularly odd meeting, and a rather mysterious ending as well. Jenessa began to soak in all that had occurred, and just as she be-gan to analyze what Len’s words had meant, the tower bell struck four. Alarmed that all that time had passed without her noticing, Jenessa leapt up from the stairs and sprinted inside to begin cooking dinner.