It was almost entirely sealed in abundant barnacles and clams, clung deeply and rooted with crystalized salt that had a strong, overpowering scent to it.
"What's behind this door?" Emilio quietly asked.
"A place that those remaining in Atlan want to forget completely–the 'Library of The Deep'--it's off-limits, technically," Bastian told him.
"So, we're trespassing?" He asked.
"Technically," Bastian repeated.
Attempting to use the doorknob, the blonde-and-black haired man found it not budging a single inch as it was encrusted in salt crystallizations to the point that it was turned useless. Seeing as it wouldn't open the traditional way, he stepped back before breathing in, lunging forward and using a frontal kick against the door.
WHAM
–It swiftly slammed open as the loose barnacles fell to the floor, revealing the sealed library behind it. There were particles of dust that brushed inward, having been kept behind the door for an unknown amount of time.
As he coughed from the dormant fumes, he could taste them, realizing there were minuscule salt crystallizations in the air before he walked into the room beyond.
"Here we are," Bastian said, following in behind him.
What laid beyond the door was a library; cramped, crusty, and dusty with salt crystallization that swayed in the air. As he stepped in, he looked down to find the floor covered in a light layer of salt, finding that there were entire pillars of crystalized salt, standing tall like pillars and infused to shelves like barnacles.
"What's this place? A library?" He asked.
"A place that the Atlans have decided to bury away and forget about–it's where the history of their kingdom–or what's left of it–is stored," Bastian told him.
The entire layout of the abandoned library was strange; a lopsided, cramped room with shelves tilted to the side and a blue-tinted window that gazed out into the deep, dark sea beyond.
"Check out what you need to–I'll be close," Bastian told him, "If you hear me call out, make sure to leave. Or, at the very least, don't let anybody see you here."
"Why? What's wrong with this place?" He asked.
Bastian waved his hand to disperse the salty air, "Everything down here is a history that is considered taboo by the remaining Atlans–they've abandoned their history and the kingdom they're fighting for. It's hard to understand, but that's just the way things are here. The only reason they haven't burned it is that fire is even more taboo–so don't start spitting flames out around here, either."
"Yeah, I don't plan to," Emilio said.
After Bastian left the abandoned room, he found himself quietly walking around before even checking any of the dormant books, taken in by the silent, serene atmosphere of the forbidden library.
It was a vice of his own, but he always felt he gravitated towards knowledge that was kept "secret" or "off-limits", knowing full well that it was likely wrong to peer too far into, yet it was an insatiable desire. Still, it was likely a common trait for humans, though his own curiosity often felt dangerous at times.
'This entire place is odd to me. An underwater kingdom that's been all but wiped out, it seems. If it's as secretive as Bastian made it sound, just how did that happen? If it was powerful, shouldn't something capable of decimating it have gone noticed by outsiders? I'm curious to find out more,' he thought.
Oddly enough, it seemed that there were a variety of languages that the dormant books were written in; the common tongue of the Human Continent, the Ennage language, and even rough, bestial hieroglyphics that seemed tied the homeland of demi-humans.
'They had somebody take the time to record their history in all of these different languages. That's not something you do if you're planning on burying all of that history away–so what happened? Why would such a secretive kingdom commit to something like that if they were trying to remain isolated anyway?' He questioned.
Finding a book in a language he could read, he grabbed onto it, though found himself having to yank it as the salt crystallization had formed around the spine of the dusty book. As he brushed the snow-white particles of salt off of the dark-blue book cover, he flipped it open.
Surprisingly, the pages were intact and legible despite having been sitting on the shelf for who knows how long.
'Bastian was right. This book has probably been sitting here for decades at least–but the salt has preserved it, I think. This entire place is just…odd to me,' he thought.
He sat down at one of the tables, brushing the layer of salt off of it before placing his posterior down. The table itself seemed to be made out of opalescent marble, though riddled with barnacles now which seemed to be the case with age.
["The Kingdom of Atlan: The Age of Prosperity"]
As he read the book while facing the window that led directly to the depths of the ocean, he found it quickly to be describing a time that was undoubtedly long gone.
["After the war with the Ravagers that lasted more than five years, a peace treaty was brokered, bringing in an era of peace for Atlan and its people. War has always plagued Atlan, though it has never sought it; the construction of such a kingdom–a unified land in the wild, untamed seas–was something met with constant hostility, whether by mindless leviathans, spirits, or outsiders. With war finally gone for the foreseeable future, Atlan finally has time and resources to focus away from fighting–the King has ushered in a new age of growth and expansion. In just the past few years alone, our population has flourished wonderfully from merely thousands to tens of thousands. Kids can play without being trained for eventual war; Atlan may yet find its footing in this world."]
Reading a time that once was, he felt a certain, sad emptiness towards the words etched into the book, now seeing just what Atlan had become: a quiet, empty place that was devoid of any sense of community.
'What changed it? If it was so prosperous and peaceful…just what could've led to…well, how it is now?' He questioned.
Skimming through pages of the book that recorded the peaceful era of Atlan, it seemed more like a fantasy than anything; sharks used as horses, whales as mass transport, and even fruit that grew underwater.
After closing the book, he got up, moving towards the full-wall window as he peered towards the deep ocean that laid beyond. Being so far beneath the surface of the sea was something that felt unnatural, especially considering he was untouched by water and able to breathe oxygen.
In the distance, he could see the shadows of colossal creatures of the deep, dark-blue, slowly swimming through the vast waters as the echoing bellows of what sounded like whale calls rippled through the region.
'The world is so vast. I want to explore and see every end of it. I just wonder if I'll be able to–it feels like at every corner, trouble is waiting for me,' he thought.
As he sat down in front of the water, watching schools of fish swim by, he relaxed his arms over his knees as he found himself able to calm down at the aquatic scenery. Ever since the tragedy that struck his hometown, it felt as though his mind was woven into knots of anger, unable to be unwoven until his vengeance was found.
'What am I supposed to do, Mom? I want to see Father and the others again, but…how can I face them after what happened? It's not just about what I did–I understand what you told me before you left…It's not my fault, right? I'll try to convince myself of that. But, the truth is, I'm still responsible. Those people only came to our home because of me. They only wiped it out, killing all of those people, because I was too weak to stop them,' he thought.
As such thoughts flowed through his mind, he reached beneath the collar of his shirt, pulling out the two necklaces he kept beneath–one that had his adventurer insignia attached to it, and the other being the dragon carving.
'I already miss it–home. I miss everyone there, too. It feels like an eternity ago already that I could smile without worry. As much as I want it all back, what's gone is gone. Right now…I have to fight to keep what I have left–the "Children of Chaos"...I'll bring them down,' he resolved.
Returning to his feet, he inhaled-and-exhaled slowly, peering outside of the glass with his amethyst eyes, seeing his own reflection as his very own eyes reminded him of his passed mother.
'I lived my old life in constant pain. None of that prepared me for this kind of pain,' he thought.
Turning away from the oceanic window, he explored the old, dusty library again, this time seeking out a book that detailed what caused the current state of the Atlan kingdom. Most of the books in the salt-layered library were completely encased in the bitter crystallizations, and even once he did recover them, it seemed the salt had somehow washed away the inscribed text.
Exploring a shelf that teetered, on the brink of collapsing if not for a few scattered books that kept it from tumbling, he found a black book that was sparsely covered, though the title inscribed beyond the front page seemed to be what he was looking for.
["The Legacy of Our People: Do Not Forget"]
"...Is this it?" He muttered to himself.
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