As The World Falls Down

"We, ignorant of ourselves, beg often our own harms, which the wise powers deny us for our good"
Ant & Cleo, Act ii, Sc.1 Shakespeare

******~Mythennielle~******


When I think about my city, I cannot help but feel pride swell within my breast. My city is a fair one, the buildings tall and faire, the streets clean and bright. The people you meet smile and chat amiably, willing to give advice and aid where it is needed. We are a peaceful people, thanks be to the Gods for that. Around us, the world grows cold and cruel, but we alone remain untouched by harshness and avarice of the countries beyond the blue seas. We alone remain blessed by the Gods, for we are their chosen city. They chose us, raising our fertile island from the seas, making the land lush and plentiful, so that we, their chosen children, might live in harmony and peace while outside our boundaries, discord ravages the planet.

Atlantis is truly blessed.

I am blessed in that the gods chose me to guide my people in their greatness. I am a tool of the gods, wrought to lead their children on to greatness in their state of blissful existence. I will carry on this joyful burden, just as my late Mother Priestess, the Lady Enheduanna, and her predecessors did. I will follow in their footsteps, and lead the land with pride and dignity.

The role of High Priest or High Priestess is not a gift to be taken lightly. When you are chosen by blood, or by fate, as I was, you immediately begin to learn all there is to know of the people. How there are merchants who sail the seas to trade with our sister-states, Athens, or Rome, or any of the countless city-states that lie within the Mediterranean Sea. How there are farmers who till the rich earth, bringing forth the fruits and vegetables that always wield ever-plentiful harvests. How there are so many different and honest livings being made within our island. How there are those who live a life by the word of the Gods, and who live only to serve you when you become the next high ruler.

Then, you are taught of the outside world. Of the horrors that plague the rulers of other lands; sickness, famine, wars, and greed. How they fight amidst themselves when there is always another way, a more peaceful way. We are taught not to hate, but to pity the people who cannot live as we do, and pray that perhaps they will find rest in their ever-changing lives.

Not to say that Atlantis has not been through its own trials. Legends go back to the days when the lakes upon our soil were still salty, so freshly raised from the sea was the land. The first people to live upon the isle had lives full of hardships and unhappiness. They lived in constant fear of being attacked from neighbors across the sea, and the land would not yield enough to feed the workers of the soil. There was much suffering, until the people of the isle called to the Gods to give them respite from their harrowed lives.

In response to the people's plea, the Gods sent forth the first High Priestess of the Isle, Atlanissa. She gathered the men and women from all over, and taught them how to pray to the Gods. She taught them how to use the power of their wishes to better their lives, and how to focus the energy produced to unlock their own hidden potential.

It was from these wishes that a brilliant white light was created, signaling the Gods had heard and would grant the wishes of the dwellers of the land. A tall lighthouse was built to house the holy light, a citadel for those seeking the ability to make their hopes and dreams become fulfilled. Things prospered under the High Priestess, and the land was given the name Atlantis, in honor of the first Priestess to lead the people on to greatness.

There have always been speculations about the rumor's validity, and why the Gods sent Atlanissa to our shores. There have been fears about what would happen if the light that illuminates the city from its tall tower were to suddenly fade, leaving our city cast into darkness and ultimate destruction. It is my belief that the legend is true, and as long as the people have hopes and dreams, their wishes will keep the light burning brightly.

But it is both the privilege and burden of the High Priestess to know that the light has been fading for some time now. No one knows why, but somehow the long claws of the shadows have begun to stretch across the land, dwelling in the hearts of those once cheerful, breeding contempt and unhappiness between neighbors. It is the fate of the High Priestesses to know that there is a prophecy of one Priestess who will have the chance to save or condemn her people, forever sealing the fate of Atlantis. That she will be tempted to put darkness back into the hearts of the people, so that they will return to the un-enlightened state of those across our seas. And, that she will do it knowingly, and without any remorse.

It is common knowledge that there has been some unrest in our land for many years; news of simple disputes and trivial skirmishes far upon the edges of the isle have reached the city, but none yet have put fear into any who live within the protective gleam of the light. As long as it shines, they feel safe.


It is my duty to see to it that they continue to feel this security, even if it is a false dream they wish for. I will do my duty by finding a husband who will help me rule the country justly, making the light burn brighter, perhaps reaching even farther than our borders.

Because Mother Priestess died without producing a successor, I was chosen. I must do all in my power to ensure that I will continue my line, so that my people will have the comfort of knowing their future is secure. Love is not important in this bonding. Trust, fidelity, honesty, and above of, friendship; these are the things I have looked for in the man that is to be my husband and future consort as I rule the kingdom. We might grow to love one another in time, but it is not a priority. Although it might sound barbaric to one outside of our custom, it ensures that the country will not be guided by people who are rash and over-emotional. One must be empathetic to their people, but one's thoughts cannot be clouded by emotions. Such a union would lead to disaster.

It was with these things in mind that I considered the Lord Palandir, a king from across the seas, although no stranger to my court. My advisor, Lord Xylander, was most pleased when he heard the Lord Palandir ask for my hand. We are near in age to one another, and we have known each other for many years. He often visited when he was simply Prince, acting as ambassador and scholar fro his father, the late king. We have not spoken face to face since his last visit, nearly ten years ago. He had left our shores only to find his father dead upon his arrival home, and himself the new king. We kept a correspondence, for even when I was eight, I knew that he might one day make a fine match for me.

A convoy from his country arrives this afternoon, and I am to meet it as it docks at the city gates. There is an undercurrent of concern amidst the guards; fear for my security has heightened since a rebellious group of farmers were marching towards the capitol. Most were captured, though a few escaped. I assured the Head Captain I would be fine, although he still treads lightly, always alert. I suppose, though, in these troubled times, it is for the better.


"Lady Mythennielle, your escort awaits you in the main hall. The Lord Xylander asks me to bid you come with me, that I might see you safely to your seat." Turning from my window where I had been musing, I smile to the Head Captain. He's a burly fellow, though he moves with confidence and pride. He is a fellow one would not normally expect wings to come from, but he holds them with the same rigid assurance in which he carries his weapons. Indeed, it has been some time since I have seen people of high rank without the gift of the Gods carried upon their back. It will be a refreshing change of atmosphere with these foreigners, to say the least.

"Thank you. Please, lead the way." He bows, left arm crossing his chest as his fingers fan out like the pinions on his wings. It is a salute that shows respect, and high regard for the one honored. Were we in public, both arms would be crossed, all fingers splayed, and, depending on the importance of the ceremony or actions, wings spread as well. Thankfully, though, we are alone, and a simple nod is all the response I need give to put him at ease. He comes out of his bow, and turns to hold the door for me. Then, he walks ahead of me as three of his men fall in behind us, completing the formation.

My escort is waiting, and I happily sit in the chair for outings just like these. I have always preferred an uncovered coach to a carriage, simply because within the confines of the latter, one cannot see the sights of the street, inhale the scents of the city, or feel the wind and sun upon your face. The Head Captain, as usual, tried to persuade me to take the carriage, as it provides more protection. He knows how I feel, though, and usually gives up his attempts feebly. He tends to spoil me in this way, although I appreciate it more than protocol allows me to say. I can only hope a smile and a contented sigh let him knowthe full extent of my thanks. I take a fleeting glimpse to search his face, and see the half-smile upon it. He has seen and heard my contentment, and he does not regret his allowances.

The horses start down the street at a somewhat quick pace, although once we have passed through the palace's gates, our speed will slow. The people must move to make way for the procession, and besides that, it is harder to see the faces of the people I rule if they are racing by.

Going through the large golden gates, the soldiers on guard salute, armor and weapons clinking with their movement. I inhale the fresh air, relishing this outing. It feels so wonderful to be out of the palace, and down amidst the people.

I smile at the few men and women I've come to recognize on my trips out. An old women with a deeply wrinkled face and a kindly smile waves a fan and nods as I pass. The barrel maker sets down his heavy casks, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he takes off a cap, bowing low. Children jump up and down along the road, waving the toys they'd been playing with before we interrupted their games. Fledglings flap their tiny pearly wings, attempting to gain my attention by floating as best they can. I smile and give my own pair a quick flap, which usually results in a golden feather or two to escape. I watch with an inward smile as they abandon their attempts at flight to chase the down floating towards them. I wonder, watching them, if my own children will bring me such delight in such a simple act. The Head Captain sees my smile, and looks to the children. Then, he returns his attention to the road ahead, and the nearing docks.

So caught up in my musings of the future, I do not realize the Head Captain has drawn his sword until he speaks to the driver, strain in his voice.

"What is it? Can you go around it?" The driver, one of the soldiers trained in ground-based combat and skills, shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, sir. It seems a wagon has overturned, and is now blocking the path. I'm sure it will all be sorted out in a moment. There was an announcement saying the streets needed to be clear for the Lady Mythennielle's passage today."

I frown, trying to peer beyond the bulky mass of the Head Captain to see what is amiss. Sure enough, there in the road lay a wagon upon its side, straw and tools fallen in disarray upon the cobblestones. Looking behind us, I see that the way is already filling with people again, although many are trying to see the accident ahead. The Head Captain lets out a quiet grunt of frustration, turning back to speak with his men.

"There's no helping it. You three, go ahead and clear the way. We'll be a bit late, but it can't be helped now. You four there, you fall into formation around Lady Mythennielle. I want the way cleared now!" A shout of assent goes up amidst the men, three of my guard leaping down to help move the cart. The remaining four shift to move around my seat, leaving the Head Captain up with the driver. I truly wish I can suggest we fly or even walk the rest of the way, as it is a mere four blocks to the docks. However, such a suggestion, even from myself, would be completely against every rule of etiquette, and it would be best to arrive at my destination in style, even if very late.

So, I instead sit back and watch as my guards approach the fallen cart, something gnawing at me. Why on earth did this happen now, of all times? I had wanted to make a good impression upon the ambassador from Palandir, and though this was certainly not planned, it does not help my image in his eyes in any way by arriving at a later time than agreed. If only we could forget protocol and walk ahead!

Why on earth hasn't the wagon been moved already? Where is the driver, and for that matter, the horse? Why is the street so quiet, and why has no one moved to help right the wagon?

A shout breaks me from my thoughts as four figures rise from the spilled straw, weapons drawn and falling upon the unsuspecting guard nearest the wagon. Blood stains the surprised man's shoulder and wings, although he is quick to dodge te next blow that was meant to be the killing one. He is fortunate in that he has ground combat and can move quickly, dispelling his wings to become less of a target. It takes much practice to call upon your wings, but even more to learn to quickly dispel them.

A cry of anger runs through my guard, and the other two men charge forward to aid their injured fellow soldier. The Head Captain whirls around angrily, obviously angered that someone would dare commit such an act against us. His face pales, then, and I turn to see a sword blade inches from the back of my neck, already crimson with the blood of the soldiers who died protecting me.

"Get up! You, old man, lay down your sword, or your Priestess is dead!" The Head Captain is shaking with fury by this time, and he is also quite alone. The soldiers from my guard are all dead upon the ground, blood pooling in the streets and coloring the straw red. I cannot believe how quickly they were cut down, they were my elite guard! Surely this cannot be?

More of the attackers appear in front and behind us, the bottoms of their faces covered with masks, and dark cloaks swirling about them in pools of shadows. My mind is quick to register that none of them bear the gift of the Gods, therefore, they must be foreigners. Surely my own people would not forsake the gift the Gods had given them, and then attack me in such a violent manner! It is unheard of!

My thoughts race, even as I stare at the blade so close to me. Have I been betrayed by Palandir? Did he send these people to kidnap me, or assassinate me? But for what purpose? He knows I intend to wed him in due time, I must simply draw out the time for formality's sake. What does he have to gain by taking me by force? Surely this cannot be his doing! But who, then? Who would gain anything by keeping me as a hostage?

"Get up, bitch! Move your ass!!" I stare at him in bewilderment. Surely, he did not just speak- refer, even- to me in such vulgar terms...? He snarls something intelligible in a dialect I'm unfamiliar with, and pulls me to my feet, sword now pressing into my throat. I dare not breath, it is so close. My hands are brought behind me, and I wince as rope bites into my wrists, securing hands behind me to my belt, and throwing cloth over my wings to contain them. There is no need, for I am too much in shock to react to their actions. My mind keeps chanting over and over, what on earth do they want with me? Gods protect me...

The world goes dark as I am blindfolded, the last sight I see is the Head Captain slumping into my chair as the barbarian withdraws his sword from his victim's back. I begin to struggle, blood pumping back into my veins. I'm truly alone now, no one knows that I have been betrayed, and I must fight against these heathens to save myself, except the bonds are too strong and I cannot free my hands. If I might only pull away the foul cloth from my mouth that I might scream, beat my wings that I might gain some distance from the earth-bounders, free myself so that I might die with dignity instead of in humiliation; alone and helpless, surrounded by these foul barbarians! I must get free-!

I receive a stinging blow across the face, one that leaves me dazed and no doubt bruised. My captor shifts my weight, and my feet leave the ground as I'm carried with my captor's plated shoulder digging into my stomach.

I try to remain calm, thinking of some way to find a peaceful exit from the situation. Unfortunately, the gag also forbids me from speech, and I am forced to choke my own tears of fear and frustration down. I am not so much in fear for myself, but for my people. Who will lead them, if I am taken? Xylander, yes, but he is too old to produce an heir, and another Priestess chosen by Fate would take too long to find, leave the land too unprotected for too long. My people will suffer because I was not strong enough to even save myself; for even if I am released, what use is a weak priestess?

My captor stops, suddenly, and I feel a tenseness run through him. His grip upon me tightens, expelling my breath and leaving me gasping through the vile cloth. The world spins as he turns, barking something in that putrid tongue of his as he presumably orders his men about. I feel sick, the jolting from his running and the spins he makes at random make my stomach turn, bile rising. I must be strong, I cannot be sick here, I cannot show weakness in front of these demons, I am strong, I am the High Priestess of Atlantis, the Gods will protect me from further harm, someone will sense something is amiss, they will send someone to find me, to rescue me, I will be fine-

I give a moan as I'm roughly thrown to the ground, my side aching and shoulder throbbing in pain. Sounds fill the air, but I'm too dazed and too upset to register what is going on. Gods protect me!

I blindly try to writhe away from where my kidnapper is, only to hit my head against something solid. I struggle to a sitting position, heaving deep breaths while at the same time, attempting to calm myself. The hiss of metal being drawn stops my panting, indeed, I think my very heart has stopped. There is a new voice, a soft voice, and it's advancing upon me. I try to shrink back against the wall, away from whatever harm this new person means me. I start when a hand goes to my shoulder, then rises to remove the blindfold. Light floods my vision, and for a moment, I'm blind.

My new captor-savior?- takes the stinking gag from my mouth, murmuring quietly as he undoes the bonds that bite into my flesh. I blink rapidly, trying to register what he looks like, and what he is saying. His voice is an odd one, he speaks flawlessly but with an accent that I cannot place. My vision returns slowly, and I find myself focusing on the face of a man I've never seen before.

The first thing I see are his brilliant eyes. They're a deep amethyst, striking with such a pale complexion. They are filled with worry, brows drawn in concern. White bangs fall across his forehead, which is covered in a band of purple, green, and gold cloth. He is, without a doubt, the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my entire life.

I stare dumbly, even as he continues speaking to me, and those eyes turn to look to the side, calling over someone out of my field of vision. A woman, similarly dressed, comes to kneel beside him, and takes my hands in her own. I wince, though she is careful, and bite my lip to keep from crying out. The demons that had bound me had not cared if the ropes bit into my flesh, and the cuts that they had left were rubbed raw, filling with blood.

The two in front of my murmur back and forth, the woman wrapping my hands in a soft fabric to stop the bleeding. The man looks at me, and smiles. My mind has frozen with all that has happened, but I am still able to understand what he says.

"You are safe, my lady. You have my oath, as Kaptain of the Magliss, that no harm shall kome to you. Tell me, my lady, what is your name?"

Those purple orbs are all I can see, my mouth responding without my mind telling it to.

"Mythennielle." They light up in surprise, but I am suddenly left in the dark as they turn towards new voices, quickly coming closer. My guards at last, come to recuse me from the men who now lay upon the ground, dead as my escort group. I recognize the Captain of the Guards as he runs to my side, glaring at the purple eyed Captain of the Magliss. His voice is rough from running, but I can hear his concern.

"My lady, forgive me. I have failed keeping you safe, and therefore failed you and our country. Please, I request you discharge me at once. These filthy Earthbounders will be executed at once, upon your command-"

"On the contrary, Captain, they will be graciously taken to the palace, where they will receive my thanks. They rescued me from the demons that would have taken me from my home and people, and for that, they have my deepest gratitude." The captain glared at the group of seven uniformed people- the Magliss, or so I assume- but he nods, nonetheless.

"As you wish, my lady. Please, remain still; a carriage will be here momentarily to take you back to the palace, and to a healer." I shake my head, sending him a shaky smile as I rise to my feet, side protesting at the movement.

"I am fine, Captain. I shall await the carriage, but I ask you to see to it that these people are given anything they ask for when we arrive back at the palace. I will see them as quickly as possible afterwards." I turn to the group of silent foreigners, and bow deeply- it hurts, but I must show them my gratitude now, before my guards, so that my gratitude is known to those present, and no harm will come to the guests. I use both arms, splaying all fingers and wings; the deepest and most formal bow we have will guarantee their safety.

Their leader, the Captain, mimics my actions, although he is a bit stiff. We will have to work on that, if he is to stay as a guest. I smile, nod, and then turn to the quickly approaching carriage. I cannot help but sigh when I see the twenty odd men who follow it. I will be caged in the palace for some time; until things settle I will be constantly watched.

Shaking off the blanket that is still partially draped over my wings, I step into the transport with the help of the Captain, and sit back in the soft seat, relishing the comfortable sway of the ride.


It is past dinner by the time I am finally able to speak to the guests, as Xylander wished me to rest before dealing with them. I have more bruises than I have ever had before, even since my fledgling years, and my face is red where the barbarian hit me, but my people still have their Priestess, and that is all that matters.

The clothes of the strangers have been cleaned while they themselves were fed and bathed, and make them stand out even more in my court because of their colors. They do not wear togas like my people or the Greeks, but leggings and tunics, like people from the far north. Perhaps that is where they are from, then, and hence the accent? I hope to convince them to stay for some time, as it would be only right to reward them for my rescue. My Captain of the Guards stands his ground behind my throne, in full battle attire. Tonight there are more guards than even myself finds comfortable, but with good manners both myself and the foreigners ignore them .

I rise from my seat as they come to stand before me, their leader coming closer. Again, we bow formally, although I can see Xylander had someone teach him the proper way, as his movements are much more fluid and sure this time. I allow my smile to show slightly as we rise, and I look directly into his eyes as I speak.

"Again, I thank you for you actions today. I do not like to think what might have transpired had you not been there to stop those men. The people of Atlantis are in your debt, good sir." The captain smiles back at me, though he shakes his head.

"My lady, we were simply following the orders of our King, the Lord Palandir, to make sure you are safe at all times. We were sent from the King as a gift for your wedding; a guard of elite fighters that you may do with as you wish. It is our duty to protect you when the Lord Palandir is unable to do so himself; we are at your beck and call." I can not help but flush at his words, but more at the actions Palandir had taken. Had he known that something like this might happen? Or was it a setup, to make his offer seem all the more generous? He knew of my intentions, but I had not formally accepted his proposal yet; this action forced me to speed my own movements much more than I would have liked. I kept my smile, though, deciding it would not do to make my new soldiers sense my irritation with my soon-to-be Lord Husband.

"I will write to your lord, and thank him for his generous offer. Surely, to lose such warriors as yourselves must have been a mighty blow to his own forces." And to his wallet, as well, I think, but do not say. The atmosphere might have become cooler, but I must still be civil to these pawns before me. The man senses my anger though, and bows again, smile gone.

"My lady, Lord Palandir does not fear for his own safety, but for yours. He sent us to protect you, no matter what your decision might be in the matter of your marriage. He knows that you are young, not yet of two decades, and that you may wish to wait several more years before konsidering a bonding. However, he knows that there are those who would attempt to kause you harm, and he has no wish for anything to befall a friend he remembers with the warmest memories." The tension of the room lessens somewhat, simply because the captain has assured us that Palandir will not force us into an early agreement. I catch Xylander's eye, and give him a slight nod. Turning back to the man before me, I speak again.

"I, too, remember my old friend with warm thoughts. I am honored that he still thinks of me, and worries about my well being. I do not deserve such a gift. Tell me, sir, what is your name?" He straightens up a bit, serious expression on his face. He then gives me the common salute of all the Earthbound countries, voice clear and strong.

"My name is Mryth, my Lady. Kaptain Mryth of the Magliss guard. We are at your kommand." They all draw themselves up, then salute again. I must say, they are impressive. I hope that they will prove equally impressive in combat, and that I might see them in action, rather than simply the aftermath. I nod to them, then motion the captain of the guards over.

"Thank you, Captain Mryth. My only hope is that your force will not be needed again, and that you will be allowed to spend your time here in relaxation. The Captain here will show you to your quarters, and see to it that you are comfortably settled in. I look forward to speaking with you again." I turn and return to my throne, the dismissal given. I catch a salute again, and Captain Mryth bows low again before leading his troop out with him.

Yes, I think as I watch them go, I do look forward to speaking with you again. Then, I turn my thoughts from the odd Captain, and begin to confer with Xylander.