Michael Kokkinaris
ATLANTIS
The Lost Kingdoms
The last days of the legendary Atlantis
Novel
Daniel
Aurteuil
That summer, at the beginning of June, I had been appointed local doctor
at a village up in North Euboea, Greece, when Daniel came to see me for a bee
sting.
What attracted my attention since the first moment I saw him was neither
his stature nor his rather arrogant style but his unbelievable eye for
detail and scrutiny of whatever he saw, heard or thought of as hovering between
the realm of fact or fiction.
From the half-opened door of the examination room, for example, he had
managed to see all the book titles in the bookcase his field of vision allowed
him to, and the first question he asked me was not about the sting but whether
the books he saw belonged to me or not…
I nodded…and Daniel became a different man.
Daniel Aurteuil…
He was a sixty-year old Frenchman from Brittany,
who had so much to tell me about a world that was lost in the wet oblivion of
the sea, many thousands of years ago, but whose roots had still remained on the
land that was offering us a place to stay. But up to that point much had to
precede than a simple observation that
my bookcase included ‘Homer’ and the ‘Torah’[1]
together on the same shelf, as if it were something completely natural for any
reader to have…
So, I prescribed
the medicine and treatment directions to Daniel, and I suggested seeing him
again, if something changed, when he politely insisted that he return to the
village the same afternoon for a coffee with me.
I had no reasons
to turn down his offer and so, I accepted.
Besides, during
the first days I had taken up my commission, I had been feeling a bit strange.
I had been
appointed local doctor to a small village, without being fully aware either of
what that meant for me nor what it meant for all those who had been convinced
that whatever happened to them they would be safe…just as long as a local
doctor would be around! Yet, one would rarely feel the need to rationalize the
‘certainties’ supporting his way of life…until…and if…a particular turn of
events put them to the test.
But it is important to accept that almost everything is based on
certainties that function like an adhesive, bonding the parts of a piece of
furniture. Particularly in cases when the furniture maker no longer remembers
either the bonding or the adhesive used!
Those certainties are so deep-rooted in human conscience that in the
end, they merge with it and become part of its heritability.
So, that ‘coffee’ with Daniel Aurteuil was his first attempt to get to
know me better. He of course had his reasons, while I had none that important,
except of course my natural need to feel that I could actually talk to
someone…But I felt as if Aurteuil was
examining me as if I were a student…at High school. He wanted me know that he
owned a pub in Brittany and for a month each year he travelled across Europe,
following his instinct, as he told me, to find what he had been looking for.
What he had been looking for…
We are all looking for something until the last moment of our lives. It’s
just that it gets really hard to recognize it, even if we come across it… It is
for that reason that I envy everyone able to live the passion of their illusion
that at long last, they have touched what they had been searching for. If on
top of that, they also bear witness to that certainty of theirs, then they
almost approach bliss. But in that afternoon, I could not figure out what it
was that Daniel had been looking for in his travels across Europe.
As far as I was concerned, and my personal certainties aside, it was
certain that I could read both Homer and the Torah from the Hebrew original, as
the… examination had demonstrated. The only hitch was that I did not speak
French and that made it hard for Daniel to verbalize what he was thinking.
You see, everyone at the local café was curious about a tourist who was
talking with the doctor about issues about which they were totally indifferent,
yet they got interested from the moment their own doctor was talking to a
Frenchman, answering his questions!
But that was not exactly how the game was being played.
Aurteuil was mainly interested in giving rather than getting
information…
He was interested in imparting whatever he knew or at least was able to
‘read’ on the hundreds of stelas that he had inherited from his parents.
What were those stelas?
They were the upturning of everything that had comprised our historical
certainties…
An unending story about a world that was lost, leaving no trace about
its presence on earth.
And what of those stelas?
What can I say?
A farce, maybe?
Perhaps!
Daniel Aurteuil could very well be a mythomaniac or a megalomaniac who may have ‘concocted’ a story to make
an impression on people.
Yet, he had made sure his story ‘tied up’ well with the history of the
stelas.
When he had gone past the stage of spelling out the primeval writing and
dawned on him that he was standing before a humungous discovery, he smartly
made sure he ‘dated’ his texts.
He simply had to ‘sacrifice’ a large piece of the stela that he
presented to the Bordeaux Regional Archeological Council as a random find.
His dating was impressive…
‘It is an engraved limestone stela bearing an unknown alphabet, possibly
of a linear script that must be at least 12,000 years old!’
From that point onwards, he should have expected the ‘story’ to have died
down.
It was his discovery. The stelas were his.
But the story nevertheless belonged to everyone and it was a thing
Aurteuil…could not care less about.
I just sat listening to him telling me all that, still trying to figure
out why he was telling it to me…
12,000 years ago, no one knew what had happened and how the world was.
So, if back then there were some people who knew how to write and had
the foresight of engraving on stone slabs the chronicles of their time, then
that would change a lot...
Daniel looked at me aggressively and said:
‘Nothing would have changed, doc…the world would have remained the
same…avaricious, full of pettiness…even if they had known that they would cease
to exist in a few moments…’
‘And what do you want from me, Daniel Aurteuil?’
‘I want you to read the stelas, too…They are inscribed in the original
alphabet of your native tongue…you won’t find it hard to figure out the key to
that language…’
‘And what then?’
‘Come up with a story…I will allow you that much…’
‘It won’t be a story, just a fairyTalé…’
‘There you go…hadn’t thought of that…A fairyTalé then…
My friend, some may believe it then…
It’s only fairyTalés that people believe in…
They’re scared of the truth…they evade it…’
Aurteuil left for France a few days later, and I was left with the
impression that everything was nothing but a well-planned hoax…until the parcel
arrived…
That was the parcel with the ‘snapshots’ of an unbelievable story that
took years off my life to ‘read’…
But it was worth it…
And it was that simple…all I had to do was to go beyond my cognitive
certainties which made up the strongest hindrance to my seeing through the fact
that the history had not started at the time we had been told it had started…
So, if you really want to learn the beginning of history, then you
should read all that follows…
What Allodorus, son of Alkinoos from Tritonian Taloh that also perished
like thousands of other cities and countless people, sacrifice to Poseidon’s
wrath, when Oceanus swallowed the land of Atlantis forever…
(In the excerpts that follow, the elderly Apollodorus has decided to
record on stone slabs the history of Idas, the eleventh King of Atlantis, also
comprising the history of a magnificent world that perished unexpectedly at a
moment’s notice, falling victim to the inscrutable wrath of Poseidon).
Memory and oblivion
‘Μan’s greatest enemy is oblivion.
Oblivion about those who lived before us, similar mortals like ourselves
who refuse to accept whatever the gods have ordained for mankind.
And I wonder, as the courses of the celestial bodies are counting my
waning life, if there is any point for me to inscribe on stone or terracotta
whatever my eyes have seen, that certainly no other mortal could have ever imagined
even in his wildest and most elusive images the dream weavers may have
fashioned for him!
And another thing is how much a mortal’s mind, who has certainly learned
to think guided by his senses but also by what he has devised, based on what the
gods have permitted mortals to perceive, can take. Yet I am afraid that if I
die or lose my mind, all that which no mortal can ever again live through will
be forever lost, as the vultures would be tasting my skinny corpse.
But even if, at long last, were I to decide to let memory guide my hand,
I truly wonder whether anyone else could ever decipher my script, if one day other
men came to live up in the mountains that were spared from the wrath of
Poseidon!
But no one should be unbending in his judgment because life has the
power to get reborn out of the stone that will once become men and then they
should acknowledge the extent of their magnificence!
I, Apollodorus, son of Alkinoos from Tritonia Taloh, mortal and
expendable must come to the decision to narrate the history of a King, King
Idas, the eleventh King of Atlantis, whom I accidently joined in a voyage to
the edge of the Eastern Sea of Middle Earth…where no Atlas had ever dared tread,
guided by Fate.
And as my hand engraves his history on the stone slabs, bringing back
images of my life, what saddens me most of all is the inscrutable cruelty of
Poseidon to obliterate so many proud generations of men!
And I, stranger among strangers, am doomed to live with the memory of my
past life that, alas, bears no resemblance nor relationship to the present one.
So, if someone sometime in the future managed to spell and figure out
the meaning of the words engraved on those stone slabs, he should know that
nothing from what he will read is an exaggeration about a world that was lost
in a moment’s notice from the inscrutable wrath of Poseidon! ’
The
Succession
Τhe day that Cleito gave birth to Kourites and Idas,
King Euaimon could never have imagined that he should have sowed discord
between his two twin sons, offering the scepter to the firstborn, who had
inherited, as custom had it, from progenitor Atlas[2].
And were he to unfold the story from the start, he would have killed the
maids attending to Cleito, who was in labor, with his bare hands, so that they
would take their witness that one of his two sons had first seen the light of
life-giving sun, down to the dark kingdom of Hades.
And now, as the time for the Assembly of the Kings comes near, he is
forced by the circumstances to sow hatred between his offspring whom he had
never set apart on account of who had been born first.
And this time, he would have to make a decision and confer his god-given
authority to his firstborn son, unable and feeble from old age to board the
seafaring ships and fight the Celts who were looting the country of Iberians,
shamelessly reaching the coastal cities of the Ocean, only to disappear
afterwards in the black forests they inhabited, dragging along the best of the
sons and daughters of Atlantis.
Yet, none of the other kings could understand his dilemma.
Law is law, and he who violates it is guilty of death.
Power rightly belonged to Kourites who was the firstborn.
But such a case would be unfair to Idas whom Fate had endowed with all
the gifts of men put together.
And he would have to remain forever in the shadow of his brother,
becoming perhaps a general, if the Royal Assembly decided so.
When the heavy gate of the Temple clang shut, the voice of King Mistor,
second in order in the Kingdom of Atlas, resembled the metallic sound of the
waves that roll the pebbles across the coasts that Poseidon rests:
‘King Euaimon, know that we all honor you and understand your dilemma.
If perhaps I had to take the same decision, that is how I would have been
tortured, considering the prowess and potential of my twin saplings. Yet, law
is law, and that is what we should uphold, if we wish not to provoke the wrath
of the sea-ruler Poseidon.
Let then the gate of the Temple open for the bulls to enter, and when we
sacrifice the one that shall be shown to us, we shall rule on your behalf,
reaching a verdict that would be final and irrevocable’.
King Euaimon seemed powerless before what appeared to be inexorable and
if someone could read the fears of his soul, he would have been terrified with
what thoughts tortured the old King. He was almost certain that the Royal
Assembly, even before the blood of the bull, sacrificed in honor of Poseidon to
preserve Kourites’ succession undisturbed, clotted, he would also have to
sacrifice, one way or another, Idas as well, sending him into exile to the
lands where Oceanus rests when returning from his long trips.
Right after King Elasippus, who was well-known for his sharp judgment
and his gift at foretelling things to come, spoke:
‘Kings of Atlantis, sons of Great Poseidon, if the Kingdom of Atlas
commands the territory extending all the way to where the sea of Middle Earth
gives way to the uncharted territory east of the Nile River, know that this has
not have come as a result of the might of our arms that the other peoples do
not possess and who have for a long time now succumbed to the might of
Poseidonia, but to the unfaltering adherence to the laws that have been
engraved on the bronze column of the God.
And if you want our empire to preserve its domination, you should never
forget that…
As regards the successor to the throne of King Euaimon, perhaps the only
thing that you should consider when the time of your decision comes, is that at
the time of Idas’ birth, during the thousandth summer equinox since the
founding of Poseidonia, the eoa epitoli[3]
of the star of the Dog, which is portentous of the coming of a great King in
Atlantis.
And that should have been in the final analysis our dilemma that for the
first time forces us to stand before whatever the law has irrevocably
stipulated for the succession of a King!’
It must have been just a few fractions of the time after the light of
the sun had completely gone and the flame on the altar of the god flickered,
disturbed by the typhoon that seemed to have sprang from the feet of the six
winged horses of Poseidon, causing the hundred Nereids that were standing
motionless under the statue of the sea-ruler, each on her own bronze dolphin,
to shut their eyes fearful of the wrath of their father, that would certainly
bring calamity to the foolish mortals. Then everything seemed to be lighted up
by a thousand bolts of lightning that sought to animate the copper shapes of
the statues, that, one would think, wished to leave their altars that they had
been fitted to so skillfully around the palisade of the temple.
At the same time, in barged the bulls through the heavy half-opened gate
like a nightmare, freed, as custom had it, to sharpen their hoofs on the bronze
floor of the temple, until one of them would be selected as the sacrificial
bull for the sea-ruler Poseidon. Yet, the animals succumbed to the fear that
had possessed the Kings of Atlantis as well, and they did not put up a fight
with whomever approached them bringing death.
So, when King Gadeirus, the youngest of all, raised his well-sharpened
knife on the first bull that came before him, the animal just accepted its
fate.
The golden cylices were filled with red wine and blood from the
sacrificial bull, and all the sacrificial altars were alight as the parts of
the bull were readied to receive their omnivorous flame.
And when everything was done as prescribed by custom, sipping down wine
and sacrificial blood, each of the Kings took oaths before the law-giving
column of Poseidon that they would uphold upon their own blood everything that
would be ordained to be irrevocable before sunrise.
Only King Euaimon lost his nerve when he had to utter the heavy oath
under the statue of the god, having the certainty that nothing could have
escaped his divine law.
When all the oath-taking was concluded, they all donned the blue robe of
judgement, had the fires on the altars extinguished and each King took turns in
unfolding his thoughts that guided him to his decision as concerns King
Euaimon’s successor.
Last of all Euinor spoke, master of the eastern land where the seafaring
ships sailed, bound for the oceanic Tartissus, having under his command those
ships guarding the seaways leading to the sea of Middle Earth, a cruel man,
just like his father, Oceanus and his god, Poseidon.
Euinor’s heavy voice mercilessly whipped the last second thoughts of the
Kings:
‘Come dawn, Kourites should receive the scepter from the hands of King
Euaimon as he had received it from his father, and Idas should leave this land
forever…
This is my decision, and whoever does not have the strength to tell the
truth before Euaimon out of feelings of sympathy, may bring upon great sorrows
to the land of Atlas.
Our empire has been based on what the laws of the god irrevocably
stipulate about the successor, rejecting any other way of remaining in power provided
by the royal scepter. Those who temporarily attempted otherwise met either a
cruel death or exile beyond the land of the Iberians, over the dark forests of
the northern Land.
Idas has in his eyes the power of those born to rule over others.
If he remains in Poseidonia, he will sooner or later refuse to obey what
Kourites would command him to do…
And then we would have to sacrifice many of our people before the
god-given order returns again.
It is clear that old Euaimon will no longer have the strength to part
from his son. No one in this Assembly would be in a position to take up
responsibility for the future acts of a person, even if that person were his
own son.
Human nature is unpredictable and the strength hidden in him
indeterminate.
If one should be afraid of a wild animal, it should not be the one that
roams around trying to sate its hunger but the one nesting in one’s soul and
woe on those unlucky souls that would meet such an animal freely roaming the
streets.
***
The silence that reigned was the blatantly unspoken decision of the
Royal Assembly of Atlantis to proclaim Kourites the successor to the scepter
inherited by Euaimon.
As the first rays of the sun ignited Poseidon’s forlorn face, walking
slowly and for the last time, old King Euaimon left his blue robe of judgment
before the statue of the god and found his way back to hand over the scepter of
power to his firstborn son, Kourites, and await the decision of the Royal
Assembly about Idas, who happened to be delivered second out of the womb,
following his brother!
Princess
Rianon
Εuinor had not unjustifiably spoken like that at the
Royal Assembly of Idas, wanting to protect just the god-ordained order. He knew
King Euaimon’s son only too well, even more than his own, when, as captain, he
had Idas himself on the crew of the trireme secretly sent beyond the land of
the Iberians to meet King Teutatis and make peace with him, thus ending a war
between the Celts and the Atlases that had lasted for unending years.
It was not Idas’ royal descent that distinguished him but the strength
that sprang from his special nature that had set him apart from the beginning
and had made the whole crew silently recognizing him as his leader.
And while it was the first time that an Atlantic ship was leaving
oceanic Tartissus bound for the unknown northern Land, following the coastline
until the estuary of river Garuna[4],
where King Teutatis had raised a wall for three thousand stadiums from the
shore to Bourdigala[5],
no one lost heart nor whispered anything about turning back but instead
followed Idas’ example.
And it was a journey never attempted before among those who used to sail
the Ocean based on the signs of the Celestial Dome, noting every time their
position on the maps so that they would not get lost in the wide Sea and be
able to reach the harbors of their destinations.
But this time there were many things that had struck fear in their
hearts, the main of which was the unknown northern Land, harboring mythical
monsters, like the Celts who would mercilessly wreak death and havoc wherever
they set foot upon.
And that was why King Euinor had artfully and cunningly prepared his
meeting with King Teutatis, in an attempt to convince him to make peace with
those who must have been the distant descendants of his own parents.
Many years ago, whoever violated the laws set by Poseidon, were sent in
chains from Atlantis to the northern Land to die, helpless from cold and
hunger. But many of them survived and lived among other peoples who could
hardly speak a language and had customs unheard of by people that lived in the
cities.
Yet, Teutatis, cruel and hard as stone, managed to unite many tribes and
drove the Celts all the way to the cities of the Ocean, which no longer felt
safe.
So, when Neith, A Celt soldier who could speak the language of the
Atlases, was caught alive, King Euinor sent him back home and set his meeting
place with Teutatis along the estuary of Garuna river during the summer
equinox, having other things in his mind…
But if Teutatis would fail to honor the meeting, King Euinor swore to
Poseidon that he himself would sail a thousand triremes to the mouth of the
river, to bring him chained up before him to kiss his feet…
So that he could tell where the estuary of Garuna river was, Euinor had
taken on board two merchants who had sworn they had set sail to Bourdigala
before, following Teutatis’ Celts.
***
Summer equinox found King Euinor’s trireme gazing upon the estuary of
river Garuna, awaiting some signal from the land.
It was then that Euinor met the real Idas whom he had ignored before.
It was him who advised the King to leave from the estuary because if
Teutatis wanted to kill them, the only thing he would have to do would be to
let burning rafts made of tree trunks flow down the river.
It would be better if they went ashore and raise a ‘hot-air balloon’ to
be able to observe things as far as human eyes could see.
When the balloon was prepared and the observer was raised up high, he
alarmingly reported that Teutatis had already arrived behind the hills with at
least a thousand soldiers.
Come sunset, Euinor had to come to a decision as to whether he would
wait to meet the King of the Celts or raise anchor and return home, following
the turn of events.
Idas again advised him to test Teutatis’ true intensions by setting up
empty tents along the beach filling them with tree trunks and branches
resembling soldiers.
The night following the day was long and hard. Yet, the Celts did not
approach the coast, also waiting the coming of day.
When the bright disc of the sun returned from its long trip in the dark,
King Teutatis appeared, wearing his black wrought copper armor, ornamented with
a two-headed boar, armed across his waist with copper weapons not unlike those
used in battle by the Atlases, and distinguishable from his stature and the red
cape across his shoulders amongst at least a hundred mounted warriors following
him.
Waiting for the Celts, Euinor arranged his men in an ordered formation
so that they would appear more than a trireme could hold.
Holding his royal scepter and flanked by his officers, he himself stood
patiently waiting for Teutatis to come closer.
Euinor understood that he was at a disadvantage. Just behind the hills
were at least a thousand Celts ready to attack them like hungry wolves.
Yet, what was putting his mind at ease was Teutatis’ decision to meet
him with a detachment of a similar number of men, knowing from the start that
he had sailed from Atlantis with just one ship.
And when the Celts approached them enough, Euinor, mounted the only
horse taken aboard, and escorted by Hermolaus who was an excellent archer and
Idas, left the formation of his men and started moving towards Teutatis.
Then, Teutatis’ guardsmen, five horsemen wearing a bear’s head for a helmet
moved out to meet them.
The two kings dismounted and for some fractions of the time they
measured each other, trying to understand each other’s thoughts while their men
remained half a plethron[6]
behind.
It was Teutatis who broke the uneasy silence, taking another step
towards Euinor.
‘You have great courage, King Euinor, to brave such a long journey…’
‘And you, Teutatis, great wisdom to grand me audience…’
‘Say you then, what can I expect from a King of Atlantis?’
Euinor knew only too well that it would be hard to convince Teutatis to
halt his marauding offensives even temporarily, without securing great
concessions in return. Perhaps what would stop him would be a decisive strike
at Bourdigala, the only city in his realm.
Yet, the Celts were not an organized state and the results from such an
expedition would have been only temporary.
Besides, the empire of Atlantis drew its might from the sea, reaching
all the way to the Sea of Tyrrhenes and the exit to the sea of Triton at the
East Sea of Middle Earth. And if the Pelasgians who inhabited the land
bordering the eastern sea of the Middle Earth and mainly the Keftiou,
inhabitants of the island of Kaftor, had not intervened, then their domain
would have certainly spread beyond the Easter Sea of the Middle Earth, to the
land where the chariot of the light-giving Sun emerged from.
So, what could actually Teutatis expect from the Atlases would be
copper, silver and gold in equal amounts for as long as he would be willing to
keep his men at bay and far from the land of the Iberians and the cities of the
Ocean.
For as long as the two Kings were talking, Teutatis’ five guardsmen had
been staring at Idas and Hermolaus, deeply impressed by the armor of the two
Atlases that had been gilded with ornaments of wrought gold same as those on
their greaves. And when Idas took off his bronze helmet and his noble face was
shown, what impressed him most was the similar move by one of the Teutatis’
Celts, who also took his bear-head helmet and the proud face of a woman was
shown who was the female version of Teutatis.
The Celt King listened carefully to what Euinor had to offer, knowing
only too well that that would be all he could expect from the state of the
Atlases. And perhaps what really might have tempted him was the offer of the
first installment that King Euinor had determined. Because he had nothing to
lose, he extended his right hand to Euinor, mounted his horse and galloped to
meet his own men who had been waiting for him, while the five Celts remained
where they were, waiting for the load of ransom to be delivered from the
trireme.
It was then that Idas, upon approaching the Celts together with Hermolaus
to lay the ransom of the deal on their feet, saw Rianon up close, Teutatis’
firstborn daughter, under the arrogant face of whom, admiration was hiding for
the Atlas who came from the Ocean to upset her cruel heart.
[2] Άτλαντος δη πολύ μεν άλλο και τίμιον γίγνεται γένος,βασιλεύς δε ο
πρεσβύτατος αεί τω πρεσβυτάτω των εκγόνων παραδιδούς επί γενεάς πολλάς την
βασιλείαν διέσωζον (Πλάτωνος Κριτίας,114d)
From
Atlas a great generation was created with significant descendants. The eldest,
who always became king would pass the sceptre to his first child and so, their
power was preserved for many generations...)
[5] Bourdigala.
Present-day Bordeaux, France which at that time was at a distance of about 555
km from the estuary of Garuna river, if we consider that a stadium was about
184.87 meters.
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