top of page




Ptollen forced his way into the partially submerged second ring of the City of Atlantis, losing hope that he would be able to make it out. Was this what he had helped to create? If he had only ignored the strangers that day two months ago, he might now have been in a better position to help his fellow countrymen escape this Atlantean genocide. In spite of his hopelessness, he pressed on against the torrential rain, hurricane winds, and frequent tremors of the ground beneath his feet. Buildings and statues crumbled all around him while the remaining Atlanteans attempted exodus. 

 As the Atlantean sailor approached the bridge to the first ring of the city, all possible hopes for escape were lost. The rain fell harder and faster now and the ocean surrounding the land rose to the acropolis. Waves crashed against the wall on the opposite side of the bridge. 

Through the rain, Ptollen saw a tidal wave carrying something large toward him. As it approached, he realized it was an Atlantean naval ship. Its masts had already been broken and the wave carried it effortlessly. The rising water lifted it over the first wall and slammed it into the city’s second wall. 


His frantic thoughts turned to his love, Alexia, Princess of Atlantis, whom he had left at the city’s acropolis. The princess planned to head to the mountains to the north, but there was no way out now. He turned and waded through the rising sea, heading back to the center of the city. The water came faster now, overtaking his efforts. A sense of relief filled him as he approached the bridge. Tethered to the wall stood his pet mastodon, Molden, agitated and frightened. New hope rose within him. He might actually be able to make it to Alexia. 

Ptollen untied his mastodon, mounted him, and rode him into the acropolis. He paused at the opposite side of the bridge. Ahead of him, he saw three figures running toward the Temple of Poseidon. Was one of them his love? He was about to head after them, when he noticed a lone figure running back toward the pyramid shaped Palace of the Kings. Surely that was her. The strangers had mentioned heading to the Temple upon their escape from the dungeons. She had no business there. 
Molden sped across the plain, chased by a concession of violent waves. How were they going to survive this? He would worry about that later, for now he had to get to Alexia. As he reached the entrance to the sacred gardens that surrounded the palace, one of the peaks in the Ampheres Mountains to the north blew its top, spewing fiery ash and smoke into the air. Ptollen had only made it through the first three of the gardens before it became too much for the poor mastodon to handle. Despite his unwavering love for the beast, Ptollen left him and ran on ahead.

Water flooded the base of the palace when Ptollen came to its entrance. He quickly ran inside yelling for Alexia, but his voice was muted by the storm. If she were in the palace he thought, she would make for the highest ground in the room of the Eye. At the end of a hallway, he found a spiral stone staircase and climbed.

Ptollen reached the top just in time to see a giant wave bring down the Temple of Poseidon in the distance. He froze in shock, standing three steps from the top. Turning his head from the sight, he saw Alexia embraced by a naked woman, and standing behind them…how could this be? It was the deceased King of Atlantis, Hesperos, and his long-lost queen, Azmela. How could this be true? Ptollen stood, remaining in shock as the naked woman let go of Alexia.

“You have shown devotion,” the naked woman said with a hollow voice, speaking to Alexia. “You have shown courage in your life. It is time to ascend from this cold and destroyed world into blissful eternity.” What was she talking about? Ptollen was lost in confusion. “Alexia, daughter of Poseidon, you are now immortal and a goddess, but you can no longer exist in this world.” Ptollen couldn’t believe his ears. He made to run to her as a wave crashed into the room of the Eye.


- - - 


Excerpt from The Deluge | Copyright 2013 - Gerald M. Givens | All rights reserved.

bottom of page