Chapter 7 History Hidden in the Depths (2)
Kre'as' revelation hung between them like a shard of ice, sharp and transparent. Chief Arnook's brow furrowed as he absorbed the words, his skepticism swirling with the curiosity that flickered behind his eyes like the aurora borealis above.
"The spirits betrayed you?" Arnook finally broke the silence, his voice measured. "You may not hold them in high esteem, Kre'as, but our people—"
"Your people are led by a spirit," Kre'as interrupted, the faintest hint of mocking surprise coloring his tone. "The moon herself, if I'm not mistaken. Your daughter Yue, is it not?"
Arnook's face softened momentarily at the mention of his daughter, pride mingling with the eternal ache of her sacrifice. But it was Kre'as' next words that caught him off guard.
"Your daughter has unknowingly taken the resentment of a whole race, due to Auntie's betrayal," Kre'as said,
"Excuse me?" Arnook's eyebrow quirked, the phrase alien to his ears.
"An old expression," Kre'as dismissed quickly, shaking his head and moving the conversation on.
"What I mean to say is that these spirits, your revered moon and ocean—they were traitors of the highest order."
"Is that what they teach you in Atlantis?" Arnook challenged, folding his arms across his chest.
"Teach? No." Kre'as' voice grew colder, harder than the ice upon which they stood. "It's what we know. They turned their backs on us when the world needed unity against chaos. They chose the Avatar, they chose Raava, and they sealed us away in our own home. Trapped beneath a barrier, reduced to whispers and legends."
"Because of the spirits?" Arnook's tone held a note of incredulity, as if trying to unravel the threads of this foreign hatred.
"Because they feared our power," Kre'as continued, his words laced with venom. "They call themselves protectors, guardians of balance. Yet where was the balance when Atlantis fell? Where was their precious harmony when they forced my people into shadows and silence?"
"Yet here you stand," Arnook observed quietly, "speaking of submerging the world in water. Is that balance?"
"Balance..." Kre'as scoffed, his laugh devoid of humor. "The spirits know nothing of balance. They are no true spirits of the ocean and moon. They are cowards hiding behind their titles while real warriors fight for their place in this world."
Arnook's gaze drifted toward the moonlit sea, considering Kre'as' bitter words. The chief knew the legends, tales of spirits good and ill, but this... this was a history untold, a vendetta nursed through a thousand years of darkness.
"Your anger runs as deep as the tides, Kre'as," Arnook finally said, his voice betraying none of his thoughts. "I can only hope that when the waters rise, they do not drown us all in your vengeance."
"It was my vengeance, for a long time, feeling the air as I first emerged from the depths, I am not so sure, I still thirst for battle, for the blood of my enemies, but as an Atlantean, I will do what I must for my race, for my late parents," Kre'as said with a mixture of melancholy and nostalgia.
Chief Arnook's brow arched, a silent signal of his intrigue as Kre'as unfurled the tapestry of Atlantean history—a saga marred by betrayal and loss. The chief's sceptical air wavered like a flame in the wind, the heat of Kre'as' conviction melting through his icy reservations.
"If your parents experienced the betrayal firsthand, may I ask how old you are?"
"Atlantean's lifespan depends on their strength and I chief Arnook am the strongest to have ever lived" Kre'as reply was dismissive.
"I see" Arnook replied, "Your tale weaves a different pattern from the legends that have passed through these halls," Arnook murmured, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "The spirits, deceitful betrayers? It is... unheard of."
Kre'as stood firm, his silhouette etched against the glacial backdrop, eyes reflecting the cold fire of resolve. "Chief Arnook, you have only known the surface of our world's waters. Below, in the depth of Atlantis's sorrow, lays the truth. We were guardians of knowledge, of power beyond what those so-called spirits could fathom."
"Royal Atlanteans, were we born spirits, manifested in flesh, we wield water like it is our blood, we held all the power," Kre'as said.
"Surely you cannot be serious, born a spirit, that is absurd," Arnook said.
"Why do you think the so-called moon and ocean spirit are betrayers of our race" Kre'as replied, letting his words sink in, and like a ship crashing into a glacier falling into the depths, Arnook concluded, "The moon and ocean spirits were Atlanteans?"
Kre'as nodded, affirming Arnook's question, "If that is the case, can you not reunite with your parents in the spirit world?" asked Arnook.
The ice beneath their feet began to fracture, Kre'as looked at Arnook, his eyes glowing, anger evident in his aura, "Because we were sealed within another dimension and when my parents or my family died, they did not form in the spirit world instead stuck in limbo to suffer for eternity, that is our destined fate given by the great Raava, now I have the power to change our destiny" Kre'as said his voice laced with poison.
"The power to change the world," Arnook mused aloud, giving voice to the unsaid.
"Change is the tide that even spirits cannot hold back," Kre'as intoned, his determined gaze locked onto the chiefs. "My mission is not merely retribution; it is revolution. Atlantis will rise, spread it's dominion, and reshape this world into one where Atlanteans can thrive once more—no longer prisoners of an archaic curse."
Arnook's expression remained unreadable, but his eyes betrayed a glint of understanding, perhaps even respect for the depth of Kre'as' fervor. Whether it was noble ambition or a veiled threat, the future was a current that would soon sweep them all into its relentless flow.