I didn't dream tonight. All I could hear was Delphi. She spoke to me, whispering into my ear as I laid on my side.
"Born of Noble Athenian blood. Artist of philosophy, the divider of reality. The physical world of becoming and a world of being full of eternal and perfect forms. A wanderer, a traveler."
My body rolled and struggled.
"Beware the brotherhood, BEWARE!"
I jumped up and out of bed, rushing to write all that had been said to me. I ripped my household apart, looking for a writing utensil and a tablet of paper.
"Where's a bloody pen and paper in this God-forsaken apartment?!"
The words were slipping from my memory; I had to act quickly.
I saw the mirror of my vanity and a tube of red lipstick.
"To hell with the blooming thing." I popped the tube open with my teeth and smeared the riddle on the smooth, clean surface of my reflection. "Noble Athenian blood...philosophy...reality...perfect forms... a wanderer...traveler."
Such an easy riddle to solve, but it couldn't be that easy, could it?
"Plato."
I pulled several books from my shelf, including my "Still Digging." I would sort out the riddle line by line, starting with the first line. "Born of Noble Athenian blood."
There were many royal Athenians, but the next verse, "Artist of philosophy, the divider of reality," tells me exactly which one.
Plato was an expert philosopher, and he created the Theory of Forms. In his theory, Plato believed that the world we observed around us was an illusion; it contained abstract entities known as forms. Plato divides reality into two realms, the physical world of becoming and a world of being full of eternal and perfect conditions.
"A wanderer, a traveler" refers to Plato's journey to Egypt and Sicily at 30, in which he ventured out of Athens.
I got out a map and marked Egypt and Sicily with a red marker. "Wait." I noticed a familiar picture of a Greek philosopher; William had the same image on his wall. "Pythagoras influenced Plato. Pythagoras was the leader and founder of the...Pythagorean Brotherhood." Pythagoras traveled to Egypt during his time in the Brotherhood.
I made a circle on Egypt. Plato and Pythagoras were connected. I was going to find out how and why.
Destroy it.
I had to choose; my life or Atlantis.
"I'll decide in Egypt."
***
"Come on, Daisy girl," I slapped the side of my knee.
She wagged her tail in excitement. It's the first she's been outside since our move; the poor dear needed some fresh air.
I had brought my notes on the riddle with me; I kept the artifacts at home in a safe place. Something inside me felt that something was off, that there was a dark presence at bay.
I was second-guessing leaving everything at home. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Something inside of me told me to leave everything at home. I was so attached I had to wear at least the chain that my medallion hung on. It was safe and sound with Sir Mortimer. I couldn't risk the men finding me and getting the medal as well. The idea had popped into my mind about seeing William and telling him all the things I had been discovering, but who could I trust?
YOU ARE READING
The Society of the Ethereal Medallion
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