Eyes: The gateway to my soul

Chapter One

A flash of emerald. For a moment, I'm paralysed. Then my eyes slowly wander to the floor, and all I see is red. Red everywhere. As the bright liquid mingles with the water, a scream escapes my throat.My eyes fly open, and I sit up panting. This nightmare was nothing new; it had been reoccurring for the past month. So many things about it made little or no sense. Perhaps the most bothersome part was how I'm positive that the liquid I saw on the floor was blood; but red? The scene was obviously under water, so why was there red blood?Still pondering about this, I swim out of my bed, towards the door.

Well, maybe door isn't the right word. It's more like a gate. See, when I read how humans describe 'Atlantis' in their books of 'mythology', I cannot decide whether to admire, or be shocked, at how vast, and well, inaccurate, their imagination can be. Their tales involve wars between gods? Hardly! And oh, how they underestimated the size and depth of the ocean! The reason humans cannot travel to extreme depths isn't because of 'high pressures', at least that's not the sole reason. The reason humans cannot travel to the oceans depths is because we don't want them to. Atlantis isn't a part of the human's idea of the Atlantic ocean; it's part of the Atlantic ocean. At a certain depth, the ocean of the human world becomes a portal the actual ocean, if that makes any sense. Atlantis isn't a city; it's another world. Our size alone is around 3/4ths of that of earth. Although, surprisingly enough, the humans did get some of it right. Atlantis is run by a confederation of kings of great power, but not in the way that they believe. Magic isn't real; at least not their idea of it anyway.

In Atlantis, 'magic' is knowledge, and hence knowledge is power. Mertal brains are far more advanced than human brains, to an extent where we are capable of sending out brain waves which command and manipulate matter. Or rather, we were capable, I should say.Our ancestors studied the secrets of the mertal brain's power over matter, and methods of achieving high levels of control were established, and recorded. This is what the humans now refer to as 'Magic'. At first, 'Magic' opened the door to progression in ways we could never have imagined; life became much easier, and much more extravagant. Social classes were no longer based on wealth or affluence, rather, the world was now classes by level of knowledge; those with greater knowledge, naturally, had more power, or stronger 'Magic', which allowed them to dominate over the less knowledgeable classes. However, the fact remained that potentially, any mertal could become extremely powerful, should they acquire the knowledge to reach high levels of power.

Naturally, this led to civil unrest. Rogue scholars, or even average mertals with a vendetta, would go about on rampages, destroying entire cities with a thought. This became dangerous, as the laws of 'magic' are quite lax. I still don't understand them entirely; I don't think anyone does. But, the gist is, 'magic' is carried out by brain waves, and the strength of ones emitted brain waves depends on their MFQ(Mental Force Quotient). There isn't a test for an MFQ; the only way to determine ones strength is to see it in action. If two people try to enact magic against each other, simultaneously, the magic of the user with the greater MFQ will dominate, and take place, while the other user's magic will be rendered null. Because of this, strength was difficult to determine, and even more difficult to control. A rogue veteran could overpower our entire 'military', if his or her MFQ was stronger than each militant's. It's because of this reason that our King of the time, Lord Elias 1, who had perhaps the greatest MFQ of all time, erased all records which explained how to tap into our brain's power, and erased all existing knowledge of how to use 'Magic' from every living mind of the time.

I leave my room, and enter the corridor; I see the trail of endless rooms, and I swim down the enormous floatcase, to our ground floor. I carry on moving to the dining room, where my breakfast is waiting on a huge, golden table, with small studs of diamonds and emerald shining on each of its sixteen legs. I catch sight of a figure sitting at the head of the table; she sits regally, as if she owns the table, the castle, and the world itself. She raises her gaze from the bowl infront of her, and her striking blue eyes flick over me disapprovingly. My elder sister by blood, Elizabeth, but perhaps the person most distant from me. It's not like we don't get along; oh that would require us to actually communicate. Perhaps this should bother me, but she is like this with everyone; she treats the world like we are all disinteresting fish, and that our very presence is an insult to her. She pushes her empty plate further away from her, and gets up, walking away briskly on her two feet, without so much as a greeting. Yes, I said walking, on her "feet".