Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

my lord Alexander defeated Thebes.”
    Justice rocked back a step, the force of the admission more powerful than the pain in his ribs.
    “More than two thousand years? All here, trapped in the Void?”
    A long, shuddering sigh greeted his words. But he waited, and finally the creature spoke. “I was near death from my wounds, and she promised eternal life. I did not know I would be damned for all eternity if I accepted. When I . . . refused her embrace, in fear for my soul, she cast me here, to become a worse monster than even she was.”
    Harsh, cawing sobs shook the creature again. “I have not seen light once in that time. Yet she will not let me die. Only a weapon wielded by a champion will release me, by the words of her curse. But no champion will ever find himself in the Void. So here I remain, for more than two millennia, as you tell me. Undying and never to find my eternal rest.”
    Pity and revulsion, both, combined in Justice, and he made a rash oath, not knowing how—or if—he could fulfill it. “I am a Warrior of Poseidon, creature, and by some measure all such stand as champions to earth‟s humans. We will escape this hell together.” He lifted his sword again, to use as a beacon instead of as a weapon, and scanned the edges of the dark surrounding them, then turned his attention to his adversary. “If we are to fight together, I cannot call you creature . What is your name?”
    The creature—no, the man —lowered his arm and squinted up at Justice, his face twisted painfully with what might have been hope. “My name? I have had no name for so long . . .”
    He wrapped his arms around bony knees and, keening softly, rocked back and forth on the ground until Justice feared the man had once again succumbed to madness.
    “If you have no name—”
    “Pharnatus,” the man said, mouth falling open as one having a revelation. “My name was Pharnatus. I was foot soldier to Alexander of Macedon.”
    Justice inclined his head. “These thousands of years later, Alexander is still recognized as one of the greatest military leaders of all time. So you are no creature but a true warrior. I am Justice, of Atlantis, Pharnatus. Let us conquer the Void together, in the name of Alexander and Atlantis.”
    He held out his hand, and Pharnatus stared at it for a long moment. Then the Greek reached up with his own torturously gnarled hand and Justice gently grasped it and pulled him up to his feet.
    Pharnatus inhaled a long, shuddering breath, then shook his head and stepped back, his white eyes flaring in the gleaming sword light. “The scent of your blood. It still pulls at me. I have only a phantom memory of being a man, but centuries of existing as a monster. What if—”
    “You are a champion in your own right, Pharnatus. Remember Alexander and gain strength from his example,” Justice commanded.
    Command. Yes. It was coming back to him. He was Justice of Atlantis, and he had friends.
    Brother warriors. Home. Pain sliced through his soul as he remembered the geas he had broken. The truth he‟d finally revealed.
    Family. He had family. Brothers. Ven and Conlan were his brothers, and he must return to Atlantis. To his family. Yet another misted memory returned to him, breaking through the shrouds in his mind as the light from his sword broke through the darkness of the Void. He shouted out a laugh, and as Pharnatus flinched back from him, the sword‟s brightness gleamed even stronger.
    “The baby! Pharnatus, I will be an uncle! We must find a way out of here. Now.” He suddenly stopped, a face— her face—flashing into his mind. Keely. A tidal wave of renewed strength coursed through his body.
    “I must find the woman I am destined to meet.”

Chapter 10
Atlantis
    The last shimmers of light from the portal flickered out as it closed behind what Alexios thought must be the oddest group ever to have entered Atlantis. He felt his lungs expand, as if the air itself were telling him he could relax now.
    He was home.
    The ornate marble platform they‟d stepped onto was bordered by the thickest profusion of trees, plants, and flowers he‟d seen outside of the Amazon jungle. Delicate orchids in colors never seen anywhere else grew to heights of four feet or more, impossible masses of blooms in so many shades of purple that only the palace gardeners could name them all. Trees topped with a symphony of blossoms, cascading through warm brown and shining silvery branches.
    The gardens had been a