The Atlantis Chronicles I

The Lost Princess

By A.J. Page

This book is dedicated to Christine M. Beddard O’Brien, my #1 fan and Soul Sister, to infinity and beyond…

“…there were earthquakes and floods of extraordinary violence, and in a single dreadful day and night…the island of Atlantis was swallowed up by the sea and vanished…”

-Plato, Timaeus & Critias

Preface

Otherness, it is that feeling. That sense that not only where you are, but what you are, is different. Some dismiss it as angst or depression, usually manifesting in the trial that is adolescence…but I can always remember feeling that way. I would look into the eyes of strangers seeking that same lost look that I saw in the mirror every day. What were we missing? What were we all searching for? What we do not know is sometimes we are right. We are displaced…from some other time or place. Places that are just ghosts of memories…familiar dreams that cannot be explained. For me, there was the ocean. It sings…and cries. A myriad of siren voices pulling me with every break of the waves. Sometimes we are lost to those worlds…or they are lost to us. We continue on never knowing the truth. But sometimes…just sometimes…our worlds call us back home.

Chapter I:

Stay Out of the Water

Morgan knew she was where she shouldn’t be. She squinted and shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked out over the sugary powder of the beach. Her ears full of the sound of waves breaking. It was never like Morgan to skip school…but it was “Senior Skip Day,” and they had practically been given permission to. Morgan’s plan had been to go home, but then Georgia had invited her to go to the beach. Morgan had protested, she had not brought a swim suit anyway, but Georgia had said she had an extra one and Morgan figured accepting the offer would be her only chance to go to the beach; after all she did live in Florida.

So there she was, near the sand and surf, walking with Georgia and Katie, looking for shark’s teeth, as they prattled on about going off to college and whether they would stay with their boyfriends. Morgan had lagged behind them, focused on scanning the debris left for the coveted teeth.

Her concentration was suddenly broken by a scream and was drawn out to the water. Some distance out in the water she could see a boy flailing in the water, his dark haired head bobbing and disappearing as wave after wave crashed over him. Morgan looked around; the part of the beach they were at was empty. Who was he with? she thought. Georgia and Katie had walked on, unaware of the boy’s distress. I can’t swim was Morgan’s last thought before she ran into the water.

Morgan plowed through the water, the waves crashing into her body and her feet sinking into the thick sand, she imagined herself sinking into oatmeal. Her toes were barely touching the bottom, when she reached the boy. The boy’s bright blue eyes locked onto hers in panic and she wrapped her arms around his chest, hooking her arms under his armpits.

“You're okay, I got you,” she said as a wave went over their heads, cutting off her words. The boy coughed and sputtered, as they came back up. Morgan spit out the salty water in her mouth and pushed the boy above her, the back of his head weighed on her chest, as they floated and she kicked, to propel them back to the shore.

After some time of struggling, Morgan put her feet down to find them firmly on the sand. The water was up to the boy’s chest; he looked relieved and began to swim to the shore on his own.

“Hey be careful…” Morgan called after him, but her words were cut off again by another large wave crashing over her head. Morgan felt her body get sucked into the wave. It spun her around, like a garment in a washing machine. She swirled and struggled to find blue of the sky against the blue of the ocean…to find her way to the surface again, but she could not distinguish between the two. She felt the water tug at her, she was being sucked out to sea. She closed her eyes. I’m going to die, she thought. Then a voice sang through the rush of water in her ears.

“Muirgen…”

* * *

She was in trouble. Big trouble. She could tell from the look on her aunt’s face as she rushed through the doors of the emergency room. There may have been a hint of concern behind her furrowed brow, but her face was as sharp as an arrow…and Morgan was her target. She swept through in a cloud of flowing fabrics that seemed to extend out from her like octopus arms poised to wrap around and smother her. Her long dark hair whipped out behind her and around her face, framing her bright brown eyes so they seemed to flame up in color. She stood at the edge of Morgan’s exam bed her arms crossed and eyes fixated on her as the doctor rattled off his report. Morgan did not listen, only catching a few words here and there like “near drowning” “riptide” and “lucky.” She stared at her feet hidden under the cool white hospital sheet. The wave rushed back into mind, the ever changing form from liquid glass to frothy white foam. During her revelry the doctor had left and she found herself alone with the wrath of her aunt.

“What were you thinking?” She placed her hands on her hips, the tentacles whipped out again in a flurry of colors.

Did she really want to know what Morgan was thinking or was this rhetorical? Could she tell her what a relief it had been to be in the ocean, like she was breathing fresh air for the first time. Could she tell her about the voices? The voices like a bittersweet song pulling her, urging her to follow them…and she wanted to. The doctors and nurses said she was caught in a riptide…this was no riptide.

“Well?” Her voice cut through the memory, like someone pulling the needle from a record in mid-song.

“I just wanted to go to the ocean…to see it and feel it for once and then I was just sitting there are the beach and there was a little boy out there calling for help, AA what was I supposed to do?...Just let him drown? ” she replied. Maybe if she used her baby name for her it would smooth things over, AA was short for Aunt Aoide.

“Your daughter is a hero, ma’am,” said the doctor, attempting to come to Morgan’s rescue.

“Yes it was very noble of you to save the boy, but do not try and butter me up with terms of endearment, Morgan, this is serious. You nearly drowned!” Her voice went up another two octaves and the tentacles flayed out again. Aunt Aoide liked to talk with her hands and arms. “Seriously, Morgan, what were you thinking? You don’t know how to swim and with our family’s history, the ocean is the last place you should be. What is the rule?”

“Stay out of the water,” I mumbled the words along with her stern citation. The family history she was referring to was a boating accident that happened when Morgan was three years old, in which both her parents drowned. Her aunt and she were the sole survivors and ever sense then she had been understandably afraid of going into the ocean. But she had been unnaturally set on upholding to this belief that the ocean would ‘take them back.’ Morgan was never quite sure what she meant by that, but her aunt had always been a little…eccentric. She did not learn to drive a car until she received guardianship of her and even then she remained frightened of them. She had insisted they walk everywhere, thankfully they lived in town.

No appliance had made it through the door of their condo an hour, without being taken completely apart, only to be reassembled perfectly. She preferred to go barefoot, but would wear sandals at Morgan’s insistence. She never would allow her near the ocean…though they lived in Florida. Sometimes when she did not know Morgan was watching she would catch her aunt staring off into the water as they passed by. To her she seemed to dream, lost in some sweet memory, but then her face would twist in pain, turning away abruptly a mixture of sadness and guilt replacing her day dream. Was she reliving the horrible accident all over again in those few seconds? If so she would never speak it out loud. Suddenly Morgan felt a little guilty for her misadventure.

“How is the boy?” Morgan asked, as no one had mentioned him to her.

“I guess he was fine, the paramedics said they checked him out and he was completely unharmed, so they sent him home with his parents,” informed the doctor. “And you’re free to go, as soon as we sign your discharge papers,” he added turning to Aoide.

Aoide nodded to him and then turned to Morgan, “I’m going to go sign your discharge papers…the doctor said a nurse will be bringing you some scrubs to wear home,” with that she padded off, her tentacles floating out behind her.

“Gosh, I wonder if she would be acting any different had this happened in a couple months when I was eighteen and a legal adult,” she muttered.

“You don’t want to grow up too fast, honey, there’s more to deal with than you know,” the nurse had suddenly appeared, handing Morgan a neatly folded pile of green cloth. She beamed a pearly smile at her and her pink lipstick made her teeth seem even brighter. She was a short lady, which made Morgan wonder how she managed to pick up people. She did a double-take, jerking her head back in her direction, “Goodness, child, do you have two different colored eyes?”

“Why yes, ma’am, one brown and one blue,” Morgan replied. This was nothing new, people often inquired about her eyes, a rare thing indeed to have a pair with different colors. It was even rarer still to see them on a person with dark hair and a brown complexion, such as her. That’s me, a walking peculiarity, she thought.

The nurse stepped out and pulled the curtain around so she could dress in private. The crisp fabric of the scrubs was cool against her skin. At least she would be comfortable for the lecture home. Maybe she could pretend to be so exhausted, which she was, that she could just fall asleep on the way. Morgan slid back the curtain when she had finished, Aoide stood waiting, her arms crossed.

“Let’s go,” she said shortly accenting both words. This was hint that there would be more to come. I definitely was going to have to go with the falling asleep in the car, Morgan thought. The nurse made her sit in a wheel chair and pushed her towards the exit. Before the nurse could even offer to help her out of the chair, she jumped up out of the chair. Morgan told her thank you and got in the car. Aunt Aoide jumped in after her into the driver’s seat. She started what Morgan often referred to as the ‘rust bucket’, but she really thought it was not that bad of a car; some Toyota circa 1980’s, that still seemed to be popular she still saw people driving them around all the time. Theirs was very distinct, all the edges underneath had rusted and eaten away the white paint. On the bumper there was a sticker that read “I Love My Cats.” Aoide had gotten the car from the stereotypical old lady in their building. Mrs. Crenshaw she had a lot of cats and only gave the car away with the condition that Aoide took her the store and doctors appointments when she needed. Hunched over with a vice like grip upon the steering wheel, she looked intensely ahead. Aoide did not like to talk while she was driving typically. Perhaps this would be Morgan’s saving grace. She turned her gaze out the window.

If she wanted to talk, Morgan thought, she could turn the conversation around, to how she needed to let her be more independent. That soon Morgan would have to go off to college and find her way in the world without her aunt holding her hand the whole time. Morgan glanced over at her briefly. What was she trying to protect me from exactly…another freak boating accident? Most parents are glad to see their children grow up and go out into the world, Morgan thought to herself. Aunt Aoide had not even entertained the thought. While most would have been encouraging their children to go off to college she had not breathed a word to Morgan. When she offered the alternative of staying home and going to community college Aoide had conceded that she would think about it, but that there were “other things to take into account regarding her future,” whatever that meant. On second thought, that too was all a sore subject for Morgan to even bring up into conversation.

Morgan was back in the water, flying through it with a speed that would make even a dolphin jealous. Bubbles of air rushed by her, some of them finding happy paths along her skin. They tickled and burst as they sought ways to escape back into the water. Her eyes were directed ahead to a great white-blue light that pulled her forward. The bittersweet lullaby played, holding Morgan even tighter to her path. She felt the urge to just let go and let this wave carry her. A woman’s voice carried over the song, calling “Muirgen……Muirgen……Muirgen…..” The waves began to vibrate and roll and something solid seized her.

Morgan’s eyes shot open with a start. Her aunt was over her, her hands gripping Morgan’s shoulders and she was still shaking her. Aoide’s eyes were wide and horror-struck. “Where did you hear that name!” she shouted.

“What are you talking about?” Morgan mumbled. She looked around, her eyes still groggy from the sleep, and noticed they were pulled over in some parking lot.

“That name, Muirgen, where did you hear it!?” She shouted again.

“I dreamed it!” Morgan yelled back, “I didn’t even know it was a name!” Was it a dream? Or was I remembering something I had heard when I was being pulled out into the ocean that afternoon? I remember hearing the singing…that had been real, she thought. Maybe she was going crazy and she thought about how she learned in psychology class, in school, that schizophrenia usually presents itself in the late teens or early twenties. She couldn’t be going crazy, there has to be something to this name that she said in her sleep or her aunt would not be acting this way.

“Who is this Muirgen…what does it mean, it sounds like my name…but different?” Morgan asked her. Aoide had by then shrunk back to her side in the driver’s seat. She stared out the windshield for a long moment, and then she started the car again. She seemed to not have heard Morgan’s question.

“Nothing…never mind,” she muttered, her eye brow twitched a little so Morgan knew she was not telling the truth. Now she was not only curious but mad. Not only did her dream seem to mean something, but her aunt knew and was keeping it from her.

The rest of the drive home was silent. Morgan stared out the window, her mind running around who is Muirgen and why did the name conjure such a reaction in her aunt. The day had started out simple enough. Her friends, if you can call them friends, invited her to the beach and she having always wanted to go but never been permitted, of course went. Morgan had told her aunt they were going to the mall, a lie that seemed to have slipped her aunt’s recollection; what with the near ‘drowning’ and strange dream.

Aunt Aoide pulled the car up to the gate of our condo complex. She hastily unrolled her window, and with her hand shaking, punched the code to enter. They were safe now in the slow five mile an hour speed limit of the complex, but her hands were still gripped to the steering wheel. To say she was unnerved would have been an understatement. She looked almost frightened, like she was the one who had nearly drowned today and was hearing things.

She parked the car, got out and made her way up the stairs, without saying a word. Morgan followed after, her only focus to get out of the scrubs. They were very comfortable but she was ready to be in her own clothes. Aunt Aoide had walked into the apartment leaving the door wide opened. Unlike her usual paranoid self that would had locked it before Morgan even stepped through, forcing her to have to knock to get in. Morgan did not see her anywhere. She locked the door and went into the kitchen. She thought of another tidbit from psychology, some say that after a harrowing event, the body needs to feel grounded…often needs to eat. She was really craving sushi and stared into the halogen lit refrigerator hoping it would somehow miraculously appear. Instead she found herself munching on a tuna sandwich. Fearing that her aunt would pop out from wherever she was and berate her for not going to her room, she made her way down the hallway. Morgan stopped at her aunt’s bedroom door. Behind it there was a load rustling and shuffling of stuff.

“AA?” Morgan called, knocking on the door, “AA, I’m sorry I lied about going to the beach. I know I’m supposed to stay out of the water, but…” But what? She thought, there were voices in the water calling me to go into it? That I had never felt more at peace and yet so sad at the same time? And Muirgen, it had sounded like a name being called out, almost like my name but who was Muirgen?

“Aunt Aoide, what does Muirgen mean?” She dared to ask again. The noises from Aoide’s room stopped and there was a long silence, but she did not answer the door. “Aunt Aoide?” Morgan called out again. Her question went unanswered and soon the rustling and shuffling began again. Morgan went to her room, a little angry and a little worried. She could still hear the noises coming from Aunt Aoide’s room as she changed into some comfy clothes and slipped into her bed. After such a day an afternoon nap was needed.

* * *

Morgan awoke with a start, which seem to be becoming a habit. It was dark now, there was no light coming into the bedroom window. Aoide stood over her, after shaking Morgan from sleep.

“Get a bag and put whatever it is you want to take with you…we’re leaving,” she said, her voice heavy.

“What are you talking about AA, what time is it?…where are we going?” Morgan looked at the clock on her nightstand; it was a quarter after eleven. She reached over clicking on the lamp on so she could see her aunt’s face. Morgan could tell she had been crying, her eyes were red and her hands shaky. “AA what is the matter? She said, “I said I was sorry, I’ll never go in the ocean again, I promise!”

Aoide laughed at this, not in humor, “This is my fault, I tried to keep you away too long, tried to protect you, but I can’t keep you away now…now that it is calling you.”

Morgan thought she had done it, finally driven her aunt mad to the point that she was speaking in tongues. “AA what are you talking about? I don’t understand!”

Aoide sighed and seemed to calm a little, a slight smile, on her face, which did not ease Morgan one bit. “Just do as I told you, pack a bag with whatever you would want to take…” She then swept out of the room.

Morgan sprang from bed not knowing what do. Should I be calling the police? The local mental health facility? She thought grabbing her favorite pair of jeans from the floor and slipped them on along with her Beatles tee shirt. Morgan dug into the closet in search of her black and white Converse All-Stars that had been on hiatus for the summer, along with her large duffel bag. Anything can go with Aunt Aoide, she thought as she haphazardly packed, throwing a scarf and hat set she had crocheted last year into the bag. In went a few more favorite clothes items and miscellaneous items including her music player and the dock it rested on. She tore around the room reaching for anything that was important and throwing it in. She ran to the bathroom, combed her hair, threw the comb in the bag and grabbed her toiletries from around the sink.

Aunt Aoide was waiting in the kitchen, a simple back pack slung over her shoulders. “Have everything you want to take?” She asked solemnly.

“Yes,” Morgan replied, “but where are we going?”

“I cannot tell you just yet,” was all she said. Aoide opened the front door gesturing for Morgan to exit. She followed her command as Aoide turned off the lights and shut the door. They stopped at Mrs. Crenshaw’s door, where Aunt Aoide slipped a note under the door. “Come on,” she whispered to her. Morgan followed her to the car.

She drove on not saying a word. Morgan’s eyes darted back from her to the road, trying to figure where it was she was taking them. She saw the signs as they approached, but the fact that they read “This way to the beach” did not make sense to her, with the present company. Aoide parked in the beach parking lot right across from F.A. Café. Morgan thought back to the lunch she had eaten there with her friends earlier that day. This time of night there was no other cars parked at the beach access.

Aunt Aoide turned off the car, leaving the keys to dangle in the ignition. “Come on,” she said just above a whisper. Morgan got out and grabbed her bag from the back seat, by then Aoide was already walking out to the beach.

Morgan ran to catch up with her. “Aunt Aoide, what is going on, you’re scaring me…I don’t understand why we’re out here…are you punishing me or something?”

She had stopped at the water’s edge and stared out into it, and then she did something Morgan never thought she would ever see. She stepped into the water and sighed. “Too long have I stayed away…too long have I ignored it, tried to forget it all. Guess I liked it here, it was different. I should have done what was right…it shouldn’t have been me to take you.”

“Aunt Aoide you’re not making any sense…” Morgan approached her into the water, immediately feeling the warm ocean water rush into the holes of her shoes, through her socks, and onto her skin, it felt like it was soaking into her. The song came again to her, only stronger and louder. Suddenly the break of the waves came quicker.

Aunt Aoide reached into her pocket and pulled something out. She dangled it before her. It was an interesting necklace, consisting of two inner-placed rings. The larger outside ring spun loosely from the other ring, with one side engraved with intricate writing, in a metal of rose copper tone. The metal gleamed and appeared warm, even in the cool moonlight. On the other side were ten, small, blue stones, individually set in the same metal. The second ring had more intricate writing on one side and on the other side, was completely covered with another blue stone. This stone had different hues of blue, dotted with the same rosy copper like color, of the metal. The stone appeared to move, swirling as if there was a secret ocean locked in the necklace. The middle of the necklace, a hole. The chain looked delicate, but also strong and made of the same copper-like metal.

“Not mine to keep away…” Aoide muttered out to the ocean.

“Aunt Aoide…”

“Grab onto the necklace!” she shouted suddenly.

Morgan did as she said, thinking in a moment she was going to have to run for the pay phone.

“Whatever you do, do not let go of it…understand?!”

Morgan didn’t know what to say, her head flashed back from the car to the ocean. The song grew louder, rushing in her head with every break of the waves, which came faster and faster.

“Understand!” she shouted again.

“Ok, ok…I understand!” Morgan cried out.

“Now say ‘Oy-kos,” she commanded.

“But, why AA, what is going on?”

“Just remember what I told you and just say it, Morgan, everything will be all right,” she said this with such calm and lucidity, that Morgan did as she asked.

“Oy-kos,” she uttered. With at once the word leaving her lips, the beach began to tremble and waves rushed in more and more, covering her shoes. Morgan’s eyes locked onto the pendant of the necklace. The rings had begun to spin, independently and whirred with such a noise, it could be heard over the waves. Morgan found herself almost hypnotized by the sound and movement.

“Remember what I told you, do not let go…” as soon as Aunt Aoide said this, she felt a great pull and they were thrust into the water with a great splash and speed. Morgan could feel the water rushing around her, the bubbles bursting and escaping from her clothes and the momentum of them traveling through the water. The water felt cool, but not wet to her. She could feel the chain of the necklace biting into her skin as she gripped it tightly, like a life preserver. She dared not to open her eyes, but kept them shut just as tightly as her grip. Oddly enough she felt light and unburdened, though she could feel the strap of her bag pulling on her shoulder. The thought that she was not drowning never occurred to her. Her head raced with other thoughts, as rapid as they raced through the ocean. Eventually all thoughts ceased in her head and she could hear nothing but the beautiful, sad song that had always called out to her, lulling her to sleep.