The Legacy of Atlantis - The Awakening of Evil


Is it real? Is it a myth? There are people all over who will argue both cases. Some people will even tell you that magic is science we are unable to comprehend. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what other people tell you. All that matters is what I tell you right now.

I come from a world thought long gone by you and your people. It's better that way. For hundreds of years, the planet of New Atlantis has prospered in peace and, well...prosperity. That all changed when I ventured into a whole new world of forces that were beyond both my control and understanding, and now chaos lurks around every corner.

Believe it or not, I'm the only one who can stop it.

My name is Jason Wolf and in order for me to succeed, I need you to believe in the impossible. Trust me when I say that the fate of both our worlds hang in the balance.


5. Alexander Cassidy

The planet of New Atlantis,

The Stygian Mountains within the Asphodel Zone

July 31st 2017, 4:36 pm...


Every city or section on the planet of New Atlantis was assigned to one of two factions - either the Elysium Zone, or the Asphodel Zone. The cities were classified according to their habitability, so it stood to reason that the blistering winds and nerve-numbing blizzards of the Stygian Mountains were classed as generally inhabitable.

But this was incorrect.


Styx was a 2 million square kilometre expansion of frozen, mountainous region that was, and had been for hundreds of years, the home of a clan known as the Calaistyote. The Calaistyote was a tribe of sorcerers who had long since committed to uncovering the secrets of Cryomancy, or the ability to use Magic in order to manipulate the frost, the snow and the ice.

In order to manipulate the cold itself.  


Clans like these were all over the Asphodel Zone, but the Cryomancer Clan lived in the harshest known temperatures and conditions. Also, their location made them extremely difficult to track down.

Fourteen-year-old Alexander Cassidy had been abandoned as a baby in the snowy mountains by unknown parents, and adopted into the clan, where he'd lived his whole life.

He was unique from almost every other boy his age because he'd never had a day of formal education in his life, unless you counted the basic schooling he received at the clan’s home. When it came to maths, science, geography...Alex was next to useless. However, when it came to Cryomancy, Alex was a genius. In everything from combat to everyday use, Alex had been trained from birth in the art of Cryomancy.

The Calaistyote lived deep in the heart of the mountains, in a mansion surrounded by ice and snow. Most people would have been shivering, but Alex was used to the cold. His straw-coloured hair was kept short and tidy, and a few scars marred his face, souvenirs of his training sessions with the Cryomancer Clan.

And intense training sessions they were.


The mansion's courtyard was generally the primary training ground, and it was there that Alex stood on that afternoon. The roof above the courtyard had been cut away to allow the daylight to stream down onto the twenty-five-foot wide paved square below and tiny flakes of snow tumbled through gradually, coating the ground in a thin layer of frost.

Alex stood at one end of the courtyard, facing off against a taller, stockier opponent. Both were dressed in Calaistyote combat gear, but Alex had opted to wear less armour to allow for agility and manoeuvrability. He donned only metallic greaves, and twin shoulder plates.

At 5"11, Alex was a little taller and more powerfully built than other teens around his age. The clan elders had quickly realized that, even as a young boy, Alex was easily the most powerful sorcerer of them all. Not that they knew why, but his mental connection to the Dark Star, the source of Magic on New Atlantis, was on a higher level than they had ever seen.

Now, almost fifteen years old, Alex had attained great feats and was the prodigy of the Calaistyote clan. Not only that, but he was also the protege of the one and only Crio Daskalos, the clan's Calais, or Leader. It was his teacher himself that Alex faced on the field of battle that afternoon.

The winds were unusually calm that day, so Daskalos didn't need to shout to make himself heard, as was the norm. "You don't know how proud I am to see you standing there, Xander," he said, using Alex's nickname. "Straight backed and proud, a true warrior of the Calaistyote."

"All because of your training, sir," Alex smiled with a scarred, thin-lipped mouth.

"Well," Daskalos grinned back. "It's time to see just how far my training has taken you. Remember, Xander...your power level may exceed mine, but power is never all that matters. Technique, tact, skill, patience...these virtues are often more important. Remember, as Cryomancers we can seldom rely on brute strength to win our battles."

Alex gave his mentor a slow nod to show that he understood.

"And without further ado," Daskalos murmured under his breath. He paused for a moment, during which there was a deathly silence. Alex clenched his teeth and adopted a martial arts fighting stance that had been the default 'on-guard' position in the clan's combat syllabus for as long as he could remember.

"HIII-YAH!!" Daskalos let out a deafening shriek as he sprung forward with his trailing foot, propelling him towards Alex at high speed, drawing back his stronger arm to deliver a crippling blade-hand strike.

Alex barely had time to move, but move he did. He sprung into a somersault to the right and his mentor darted past before touching down at the other end of the courtyard agilely. "Your reflexes are sharpening, Alex."

"You're the one who taught me to use the Ch'i," Alex smirked.

Ch'i was the little-known technique of using a tiny spark of Magic to supercharge physical movements and actions. In this way a sorcerer could increase his strength, speed and agility during a fight without having to concentrate too much energy to one cause.

The Calaistyote had known about the Art of Ch'i for centuries, and it was one of the reasons that their warriors were so accomplished - they knew how to achieve great power without sacrificing too much of their own energy.

"That I did," Daskalos agreed. "And it would be an understatement to say that learning it has trebled your strength."

Alex smiled. "Even you would be surprised by what I'm capable of."

"We’ll see," Daskalos chuckled wisely.

Crio raised his right hand and etched a shape in the air. As he did, a blazing trail of sea-blue energy followed his finger, sketching the outline of an equilateral triangle, point facing downward.


Alex knew what his mentor was about to do. There were two ways of casting spells. Most of the more combative types were utilized by using bursts of mental energy, i.e thoughts. More commonly used spells however, were often accessed via symbols.


Every spell had a corresponding Symbol and simply by exuding a little extra power and then sketching that symbol on the air, a sorcerer could cast a spell.


And Alex recognized this particular symbol.


Before he could act, Daskalos completed the Symbol with an outward push, at which point, the triangle dissipated. The temperature dropped dramatically and Alex felt the ground beneath his feet begin to vibrate dangerously. He scooted backward agilely, and just in time, too - the ground where he had been standing moments before exploded in three different spots, and small, narrow geysers of high-pressured water blasted upward through the ground.

Alex threw both his arms forward and felt the temperature in his hands plummet and his forearms glowed a frosty blue. Two pulses of energy issued from his hands and collided with the water at high speed. The air was filled with the cracking sound of water super-cooling and suddenly the water jets were still and unmoving, as brittle as ice.

Alex pivoted and brought the heel of his right foot down onto the brittle structures and shattered them with ease. Before the Calais could attack again, Alex darted forward and began to bombard his mentor with lightning-quick punches, palm thrusts and elbow strikes. It took all of Daskalos' concentration to stay a nanosecond quicker than his apprentice, dodging, bobbing, weaving in and out, blocking parrying and countering.

Several onlookers, members of the clan, watched in awe as their two best warriors battled across the courtyard.

Daskalos darted two feet backwards to dodge Alex's right hook and then moved forward just as quickly, throwing all of his momentum behind double punches.

Alex crossed his forearms over one another and faced his palms inwards. Two more jets of frost issued from his hands and collided with Daskalos'. As the mentor watched, his hands became incased in thick, heavy gloves of ice, weighing his hands down and killing his momentum.

Daskalos keeled forward underneath the weight of the icy gauntlets, giving Alex the opening he needed. He smashed home an uppercut that knocked Daskalos onto his back. As the clan leader hit the ground the gloves shattered spectacularly, spewing tiny shards of ice across the courtyard.

In that instant, Daskalos knew that he'd lost.

Funnily, he didn't feel any embarrassment. As the Calais and a mentor, all he felt was...pride. Pride for his most accomplished student, the boy he'd raised since he had weighed only seven pounds. Daskalos almost choked as he felt Alex's kneecap pushing down on his windpipe. His apprentice looked him in the eye.

"Yield," Alex commanded.

Daskalos wasted no time. He raised two fingers into the air, the gesture of surrender, and Alex quickly pulled his knee from his mentor's throat and held out his hand to help him up.

After a lot of coughing and patting on the back, Daskalos finally managed to get the words out. "Congratulations, Xander. The student has surpassed the teacher, it seems, and you have ascended to the mantle of fully trained warrior of this clan. Therefore, it is my great pleasure to name you as my successor."

Alex frowned, not understanding. "Sir?"

"I would be honoured, Alex, if you would agree to follow in my footsteps and take the title of Calais of this clan. This brotherhood. This family."

Alex was silent. Surprised and overwhelmed, he opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

Daskalos laughed. "Give it time to let it sink in."

Fortunately for Alex, he was rescued from making such a monumental decision by the arrival of, Felix Jensen, one of the clan's sentinels. "Calais!" Jensen said breathlessly. He'd clearly been running. "The main gates have been breached!! We're under attack!"

Alex frowned. "That's impossible...who knows about this sanctuary?"

"Not many people," Daskalos confirmed. "And those who stumble across us never do so again."

"It's only one man!" Felix blurted. "But he's already overpowered the Sentry team and the Main Guard! He says...he says he's here to see Cassidy."

Alex frowned. "That can't be."

A shadow emerged from behind Felix. A man dressed from head to toe in black with a large, cruel-looking blade in his hand, which he flipped expertly. "Afternoon," the man said pleasantly. "I'm looking for a young gentleman named, uh...Alexander Cassidy. You wouldn't happen to know his whereabouts, would you?"

"You're looking at him," Alex said bravely, taking a step forward. "Who are you?"

"A collector of sorts," the man said. "As in, I've come to collect you, Mr Cassidy."

"I don’t think so," Alex shook his head.

"Sorry," the man smiled eerily. "I have clear instructions and I don't know if you noticed, but that wasn't a request."

"Don't even think about it," Daskalos growled. "I'm the closest thing this boy has to a father, and I'll be damned to hell if I'll let you harm one hair on his head. Don't make the mistake of thinking I won't kill you, because if you test me, I will."

The man's smile widened. "I'd like to see you try."




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