Re: Tell my story


The Atomic Punk

Original Design by Linea24; Story by The Atomic Punk

For generations, fathers have told the legends of Auorme, the great capital of Antiquity. Mother died before she could bear a son. So ashamed was Father not having a male heir, he refused to pass the knowledge to his only daughter. Grandfather was the one who sat me on his knee. I would tug his beard while he described a once mighty city.

Grandfather lectured the ideals and pride of the nation. He attested to the character and virtue of the people. Almost as if he had lived there. So rich was the tapestry that he wove, I could see myself in the picture. Walking the streets. Listening to the bustle of the marketplace. Caressing the bolts of silk. Tasting the exotic fruits. Smelling the flowers in the city garden.

Father forbade Grandfather from telling me more. Grandfather did say that every 202 years, the Moon and Our Visitor align so that the Sea of Memory recedes. During those eight days, one can find Auorme but must be quick. Lest the Sea return to swallow the curious.

During my self-imposed exile, I have learned more about the glory of Auorme. Antia, Our Visitor, has not always been among us. The Arrival threw our world Felinae into chaos and darkness. Antia’s unannounced presence caused the oceans to rise and mountains to break. Still, we endure.

I know nothing of the sky before the Arrival. To me, it must have been a lonely time. The Moon is pale and sickly. More than likely, it is dead. I can see that Antia is lush and green with my naked eye. Our Visitor’s waters glisten.

Before I leave the past beneath the waves, my thoughts drift into the night. Did the people of Antia also survive the catastrophe? Are they in diaspora? Do they look to the sky then wonder about their future?

Auorme itself is nothing more than stones and coral. Grandfather will always remember the city as it might have been. This journey has given me insight and hope. Something Father tried to deny me.