Part XIII: The Cradle of Destiny
Chapter 3: The Legacy of Atlantis
Timeline: AO 304
Using the Shard of Varysha again, I travelled from Hyperborea to the remains of what was once the home of great civilization of Atlantis. Since that city island was not under the sea, I descended into the inky depths of the ocean where the remains of Atlantis slowly materialized through the murky water.
I can already hear you laughing at me – why did I remain in my cliche Grim Reaper ‘skeleton in the black robes’ even under water? First off, I’d like to believe that despite my form I drifted downwards through the water with a godlike grace, but perhaps you may not agree. In any case it’s true that I could have chosen any shape, any form that would made this aquatic journey more convenient—something streamlined, perhaps something with fins, to glide effortlessly through the water – but don’t forget that I am Azazel, the sculptor of all the forms of Terra. As such I did not yield to the elements like some common creature. No, I refused to shed my ancient guise simply because I didn’t have to – even if it meant enduring the constant drag of water against my robes. Oh well.
Descending further – to the very bottom of the sea, the ruins of Atlantis soon stretched out beneath me like the shattered remains of a once-great jewel,now completely abandoned. Fragments of marble and crystal littered the seabed, the remnants of the fabled Crystal Aqueducts still glinting faintly in the dim light. Above and below the surface, the grand architecture that had once towered with pride now lay fractured and forgotten, a testament to my past handiwork.
And there, amidst the wreckage, lay the skeletal remains of my once-magnificent Leviathan. The great beast’s bones, larger than the towers of Atlantis, were scattered like the ruins of a fallen mountain range. The monster had been a marvel of my genetic engineering, a terrifying fusion of flesh, magic, and malice. A pang of something akin to regret—though I would never admit it—throbbed within me as I surveyed the creature’s final resting place. It had served its purpose with unmatched ferocity, and its destruction, though necessary, had not been without a sense of loss.
“Ah, my dear Leviathan,” I murmured, my voice echoing through the water, “what a glorious beast you were. If only you could see this now, you might even be proud of the destruction you wrought. But alas, your bones are now as useless as the city you razed.”
I drifted past the Leviathan’s enormous rib cage, which arched over me like a cathedral of death. Below, the shattered remnants of the Celestial Observatory lay half-buried in the sands of the sea floor, its once-glistening spire now dull and broken. The tower had been the Atlanteans’ greatest achievement—a masterpiece of celestial alignment, a device that they claimed harnessed the power of the stars themselves – even those beyond The Firmament. Whether that was true or not I never learned, but it was this very tower that had struck the final blow to my beast, bringing ruin to Leviathan, but also to Atlantis itself – for the cataclysm was so great that when the weight of the serpent’s body sunk back down to the depths it created a massive fissure in the island – pulling Atlantis itself down with it to the bottom of the sea – to the place where I now floated among them. .
As I passed through the sunken streets, memories flooded back, unbidden. The Atlanteans had once thrived here, masters of the seas, guided by the knowledge shared with them by the Mylars. I had watched them grow, only to see them slip through my grasp, like all the other failed experiments – for without a soul receptacle, they were useless to me—untouchable by the Stellarone souls I had painstakingly tormented.
It was ironic, really. The Atlanteans had achieved a utopian society, yet it had been their very perfection that led to their destruction. They had no place in my grand design, no role in the cosmic drama I was orchestrating. And so, like the Leviathan, they had been cast down, their glorious city reduced to rubble.
But I had not come here to reminisce. No, the secret I sought was buried somewhere within this graveyard of dreams. The tablet I had discovered in the hidden chamber of the Hyperborean Pyramid had whispered to me of Atlantis—of a clue hidden deep within its ruins that would lead me to the Cradle of Despair or the Crypt of Death’s Horrors. And it was that clue I now sought.
Since I’d left Hyperborea I’d continue to ponder tablet’s words, finally translating them into knowledge that I could understand. That knowledge now echoed in my mind as I searched through the ruins.
“Where the serpent’s tail strikes the heart of the sea,” I repeated the phrase I’d decoded from the tablet, “there the gate to destiny lies hidden.” The serpent, I realized now, was the Leviathan, and its tail had struck down the Celestial Tower, the heart of Atlantis. “The gate, then, must be hidden somewhere near the remains of that tower.”
Yet navigating through the debris was a slow and frustrating process, my skeletal hands clawing through the sand and silt that had settled over the centuries. As I reached the base of the ruined tower, I noticed something strange—an anomaly in the stonework that looked off. Floating over to it, I observed that a section of the tower’s foundation had collapsed in on itself – revealing a passage that led deeper into the seabed.
Curiosity piqued, I swam past a couple sharks who knew better than to bother me and thus entered the passage, descending into darkness. The wall of the undersea passageway were lined with strange glyphs.
These are not of Atlantean origin, I stopped to look closer. They’re older—much older. I recognized some of it as Mylar script, but that language was intertwined with symbols that even I did not immediately recognize. As I moved deeper into the passage, the water around me began to get warm, and a faint glow emanated from the walls, casting unusual shadows.
As cliche as it’s beginning to sound the fact remains that at the passage’s end, I found yet another ‘mysterious’ chamber. Can’t I get some variety on this quest? I lamented. Why not a visitor from another planet or some trouble with Tribbles?
Yet my wish didn’t come true and instead I was confronted by small, unassuming room – one that had somehow survived the cataclysm of the Leviathan unscathed. The undersea room was completely empty of anything besides water, but for a crystalline disc that floated by itself in the middle. Peering closer at it I gasped when I realized what was inscribed on it, “Those are the same ancient symbols I saw in the pyramid!”
As I swam towards it, the disc started to glow faintly, pulsing with an inner light that seemed to respond to my presence. Reaching out with my skeletal fingers I grabbed the object – and immediately felt a surge of energy course through me. At the same time the symbols on the disc shifted, rearranging themselves into a pattern – I it recognized as a cipher, a complex puzzle, one that required both intellect and intuition to decipher. I remembered that the Mylars had been masters of such riddles, using them to guard their most precious secrets, yet that didn’t deter me.
“Ha, this should be a snap.” I said. Settling down to business I worked to decode the message, but was surprised to see that the room began to shrink around me. “What’s going on here? Why are the walls pressing in?” I wondered, fearing that time was somehow running out on my quest.
Working feverishly, lest I miss my chance at this obvious clue to my quest, I forced the symbols to move – they soon twisted and turned, revealing fragments of a message that hinted at something far greater than I had anticipated. Yet all the while I kept wondering about this mystery: The Mylars had known of Atlantis before it existed—before I had ever conceived of it. How? Why?
The room kept getting smaller, yet I was still confident that I could solve the mystery in time. Slowing down my fears I worked forward with intention – piece by piece, the puzzle fell into place, and at last the message became clear…
In the Garden where life first bloomed, the Cradle awaits. Seek the serpent’s shadow, and the path shall be revealed.
“The Garden – could it be…Eden?” I gasped, as the room stopped its inward movement. Yet even though that danger had passed, the words themselves sent a shiver through my osteel anatomy.
The Cradle of Despair, one of the critical locations I sought to find, was possibly hidden in the place where so much of my evil threads had started. It was where I had first tempted humanity, where I had set the stage for all that was to come in my quest to Rule the Planes by using the Stellarones to control mankind and even break The Firmament. And the serpent’s shadow— it must be a reference… to me! Yes, it must be for I am the original deceiver – the snake behind the snake so to speak.
The Mylars – if it really was them behind this mystery – had hidden their secrets in plain sight, knowing that only I would be able to uncover them.
But why had they done this? What did they hope to achieve? Quite frankly I’d always thought the Mylars had hated me – and I’d given them MANY reasons to do so. So why help me?
Even though I’d created them, because they lacked the soul receptacle for me to control, the Mylars had always been enigmatic, their motives obscured even from me. Perhaps this was their way of getting back at me, of trying to control me, of ensuring that I followed the path they had laid out? Or perhaps it was another test, another challenge to prove my worth. Either way I was forced to play their game.
As I contemplated the meaning behind this unexpected revelation, a soft hum began to emanate from the disc, growing louder with each passing moment. The water around me began to swirl, as if stirred by some unseen force. The disc’s light intensified, projecting an image into the water before me—a vision of the Garden, untouched by time, its lush greenery and flowing rivers as vibrant as they had been on the day of creation. And there, in the center of the Garden, stood a massive tree—its branches twisted and gnarled, its roots digging deep into the flat earth I’d planted it in, lo those many millennia ago.
“The Tree of of the Knowledge of Good and Evil!” I couldn’t believe what I saw, yet there could be no question now. Eden was indeed where The Cradle was at.
For this was The Tree from which Eve had plucked the forbidden fruit after my temptation and I knew every inch of it for I had created it. However this vision showed something more, something hidden beneath the roots of the tree, something that was never there before. Shrouded in darkness was a stone and beneath it I was sure was the key to finding The Cradle of Destiny. “By Baal, it’s hidden in the very heart of Eden, waiting to be discovered – by me!”
The vision soon faded and when it did the disc suddenly melted into the ocean, the energy within it spent. I didn’t have time to ponder the mystery of it all because the small chamber around me began to collapse threatening to trap me inside. Even though I wasn’t worried about that – I am a god after all – nonetheless I didn’t want to deal with the hassle so I quickly moved back up the passageway – it was all a bit of a nuisance because the passage itself was disintegrating behind me as I swam forcing me to use more effort than I’d have preferred, but I played along with the game and called upon a bit of divine energy to swim as fast as I could.
Bursting free from the mysterious portal, I soon floated above the remains of Atlantis, watching as the chamber collapsed entirely, burying its secrets once more. The Leviathan’s bones seemed to stare up at me, as if accusing me of some great failure. But I had not failed—not yet. I had the clue I needed, the key to finding the Cradle of Despair. And somehow it lay in the Garden of Eden – even though I had hidden that secret place in a location between the dimensions that I thought only I knew about. But apparently I was wrong.
As I prepared to leave Atlantis, something caught my eye—a flicker of movement down among the ruins. Focusing my gaze on the source, I saw a figure floating in the shadows of the destroyed Celestial Tower. It was humanoid, though its form was indistinct, as if made of smoke and shadow. Its eyes glowed with an unnatural light, watching me with an intensity that sent a rare chill down my spine.
Could it be…Kaelin? I wondered, remembering the famous Atlantean whose ideas gave birth to so many of the wonders that Atlantis was famous for. The person responsible for killing my Leviathan!
I called out, but the figure did not respond. Instead, he sinister smile and raised a hand, pointing towards the Leviathan’s remains, before dissolving into the water, vanishing as if he had never been there. But the message was clear and if it was Kaelin he surely wanted me to know it – for it was a dig to get back at me, yes that much was clear. There could be only one meaning – Kaelin was letting me know that I was not the only one searching for the Cradle of Despair. Others had found this place too, before me, and now knew that Eden wasn’t destroyed as Lucifer had instructed me to do. If they knew that much then surely they would stop at nothing to claim Eden’s mysteries for themselves.
“May Baal take you!” I cursed at the now gone Kaelin – still a thorn in my side even after all these millennia.
Yet there was no more time to waste. “I may already be too late!” I couldn’t help but grate, yet I also didn’t dare let myself ponder the consequences. The Cradle of Despair was my only hope of securing the future I had so meticulously planned and I needed to return to Eden immediately.
But would I still find that which I sought?
The Apocrypha of Azazel 