Port of Poseidonia: the Codex Scrolls and a Staccato Cry [A World within a World]

Let us not all believe Atlantis did not have its secrets, and dark powers, for it surely did. And this sketch will bring forth, some of them. (Part XI)

1 [Anases: proper] Anases' Dream

A world within a world that is where Anases lived, his mind and body wondered aimlessly for centuries looking of his sacred scrolls. The Sea of Hades [the Great Gulf], is where his mountain domain was, inside a mountain under the sea, in a city half under water half above, this is where he lived his ghostly days out, looking for the Crown Imperial Scrolls, the history of Atlantis he had written down thousands of years prior, when he was Grand Archeknight of Atlantis, and Governor of the British Isles. He had placed them in a great tower and gave the great king of Atlantis the other set, whereupon he placed them in his vaults, King Phrygian.

For all intent and purposes Anases still held the title of Gran Archeknight of Atlantis, for what it was worth, and he still kept looking aimlessly for the scores, his records of Atlantis, and he still was a scribe, and he was the one, one of the ones who sealed the scrolls into a tower, the king being the other. Virtually everyone was gone now. Years and years had passed, time was only an expression now, and it had little relevance. It had been hundreds of years since Phrygian had been taken to the Docks of Hell, and made to face the King of Demons, Belphegor. And whatever was his doom was his doom, a harsh way of looking at things, but it was the way the king looked at things, and Anases' life was the scrolls, not much more, or less.

In a like manner, Ephialtes had disappeared and never returned, not even for a visit. If anything he was a mild distraction for Anases. And the Queen Ais, she was under the spell of Aon, the endlessly devouring lover of passion and lust and attention. Oh she tried to avoid him, but it was helpless, and those two now were an entity, or so it seemed. And when she and Aon came around, it was for seeing old friends again. It was now the 13th Century, a modern sort of time for the world. Anases had heard the world was coming out of what was called: The Dark Ages. But Anases was quite busy the last several hundred years, since the dawn of a hero called King Arthur of the British Isles, the islands he once ruled.

—What he had done, magnificently done, was to give up on looking for the scrolls, needless to say, in view of not finding them for several thousand years, he translated his memories into poetic verse, he now called them the Codex Atlanteanus [Manuscript]. One now could read about Atlantis in symbolism, in poetic codes if you will. And it was he who gave them to King Arthur's court, whom put them in his Royal Library (yet in time they would be destroyed again, unfortunately). But he had now made a second copy and was to give it to the King of England, who was to put it in the Abby at Mont-Saint Michael. This was to happen soon. But then all of a sudden, Ais and Aon came by, showed up unexpectantly as he was finishing his laboriously poetic code, entrenched between the inner walls of this underwater acropolis, inner mountain cave, airless as a vault. When they showed up out of nowhere, Anases was pained, strained with expression, for he was about to deliver the Manuscript, and that would end his existence, his reason anyways, for all he knew, to exist, or so he felt.

With profound inertia from the watery floor he stood up,

"Ah!” sighed the beautiful Ais, "This will give mankind more to speculate on.” [Looking at the scrolls.] As she was told the long story of his work in progress, with a bewildered look, answered Anases,

"Yes, yes, and I'm sure mankind will translate my translations to appease the times. But the memory of Atlantis will not lay dormant below the earths pillars any longer.”

—Aon was by the Queen, voluminously looking at her as if he could not hold his longing much longer for her, his eyes were ominous illuminated by her smile, passion and lust does many things to the mind; to include obsession, and possession, and illusions and addiction: of which he had them all.

2 Farewell

Ais, was now in deep thought, 'How was Atlantis for her, oh beautiful, most beautiful thing built by mankind, humankind, ruled by two worlds, the invisible and visible. Both loving her, as a man to a woman, loving her so much they even forsaken their gods for her. (Her eyes brimmed with tears.) The ruins of Atlantis, indecipherable, and the unknown dead under her, yet it was still beautiful. (Her voice in her mind trying to take in the moment, for she knew it was the last time she'd be here ((her eyes glistening with tears)).'

She said inexpediently: "I'll always have dreams.”

As they all looked at one another they all knew sadly it was a farewell, a last farewell possibly, and were especially gracious to one another for the moment, as an ambling breeze swept through the necropolis.

And so hesitantly, the Atlantis curtain came down after 15,000-years, and probably longer was it in existence, it came down through an uncountable lifetimes from King Phrygian, down from his Atlantean heritage, to and from the Egyptians, Greeks, and British Isles—and on to the Americans, the new Atlantis. [Shall she also sink?]

And so, this has been the end to half of my story of the ancient wonder of the world, the one not mentined in the seven wonders, the wondrous one of them all—Atlantis, and of course the Port of Poseidonia where it all took place. Incidentally, I was on top of the mountain of Atlantis, oh yes, it sticks out in the Atlantic sea, nine-hundred miles of the coast of Europe. There shall be several more chapters, and then the conclusion.