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Chapter 1. Pink Marble, Swaying Flora, and a Secret Rendezvous

January 2009

Most human beings considered Plato’s Dialogues the primary source of knowledge about the lost land of Atlantis. Those who actually read that ancient and enigmatic book undoubtedly stumbled upon the name Icosahedron as well. It appeared in the chapter titled Timaeus, where the great philosopher Plato discussed five solids which, according to him, comprised the building blocks of all existing matter. In his view, each of these solids corresponded to an element, and the Icosahedron—a solid with twenty faces—was believed to symbolize water.

What most human beings likely did not know was that one of the twelve provinces of Atlantis also bore the name Icosahedron. It was the easternmost part of Atlantis’ outer ring and the first region to rebel against the country’s rule in a revolutionary uprising.

Its capital, Icos, was chosen hastily, leaving little time to cultivate any splendor. Thus, it welcomed the new year as a modest, underdeveloped city, offering little to boast about. One of its more charming areas, however, was the main square, where delegations from the inner ring were received. This market square was paved with pink marble and featured a magnificent geometrical garden at its center. On either side, round tables with built-in benches sat adorned with large, twenty-faced chalices coated in golden paint and brimming with vividly colorful sea vegetation.

The sunlight filtered through the water, casting its glow on the swaying underwater flora within the chalices. Its rays danced across the nape and shoulders of Portia Agricola, the eighteen-year-old mermaid ruler of the newly sovereign Icosahedron Kingdom.

She leaned over a parchment, absentmindedly twirling her fountain pen. She looked like any other mermaid of her age, particularly in the simple white tunic she wore, mostly to blend in inconspicuously.

Like many mermaids from her province, she possessed luscious, dark brown hair, which she tied into braids encircling her head, adorned with flowers—red, orange, yellow, and white—her favorite colors. She believed they complemented her salmon-colored tail, which was now curled beneath the table.

As she leaned over the parchment, her amber-green eyes narrowed in concentration as she meticulously re-read what she had written so far.

The 11th Speech For Uplifting The Spirit Of The Icosahedron Nation

Dear Citizens,

Thank you for gathering today to listen to me, your new ruler Portia Agricola—born a farmer and bound to the soil like all of you, yet compelled to ascend the throne after the passing of my aunt and uncle, Ligia and Lucius Agricola, who separated our fertile, pastoral province from Atlantis through the course of a revolution.

Take a deep breath here, Portia scribbled on the side, then continued reading.

I stand before you today to deliver the eleventh speech aimed at uplifting the spirit of our currently underdeveloped, yet resilient and industrious nation. Today’s topic will be the inspiring tale of the mighty Antemidia.

Clear your throat here, Portia added as another note, refocusing on her text.

Few mermaids and tritons of the Northern Atlantic Ocean possess both the knowledge and courage to teach the truth about the Atlantis² War. Therefore, I shall be the one to undertake this task for you today. I will start with the absolute basics to ensure that every one of you can comprehend this critically significant matter.

As many of you are aware, the war’s name derived from the fact that the two main factions involved both claimed the right to the same name: Atlantis. To differentiate these factions, historians often refer to their geographical locations, and so shall I.

During the era of the Atlantis² War, the Caribbean Atlantis, now known as Antemidia (its name originating from the ancient Antemidian phrase meaning “we will not forget”), occupied the territory of the Caribbean Sea. However, its cultural influence extended as far as the 50th meridian of the Atlantic Ocean.

Conversely, the Azorean Atlantis, formerly known as the Kingdom of the Azores and now simply referred to as Atlantis, dominated the region from the Gates of Gibraltar to the Azores Isles. Its cultural reach spanned to the 20th meridian of the Atlantic Ocean.

For those among you who have devoted your lives to the tireless labor of filling our province’s granaries and, as a result, were unable to complete standard education, I shall delve even further into the basics and explain the primary cause of that cruel, devastating war that forever altered the ocean’s political dynamics.

Make a deliberate pause here to let the audience’s hearts swell with anticipation, Portia decided, quickly sketching a musical pause after the final period in this section.

The main reason for that war was as follows: as a matter of tradition, only one country could maintain intellectual, material, and military hegemony in the Atlantic Ocean. The nation fulfilling these criteria would receive the undisputed blessing of other countries to bear the prestigious name of Atlantis.

Prior to the Atlantis² War, that nation had always been the Caribbean Atlantis. However, the rapid development and expansion of the Kingdom of the Azores during the rule of King Delphinius the Undefeated began to threaten the dominance of the Caribbean Atlantis, especially after King Delphinius secured several allies among nations situated along the 40th and 50th meridians.

Naturally, the Caribbean Atlantis perceived this as an attack on their hegemony. Their ruler, King An-Ta-Nas, sent an official letter to King Delphinius, politely requesting that the Kingdom of the Azores limit its expansion to within the 20th meridian.

King Delphinius refused, asserting that the Kingdom of the Azores was an emerging power organically gaining support in the region and, as such, deserved not only unrestricted expansion within the Atlantic Ocean's waters but also the prestigious title of Atlantis itself.

King An-Ta-Nas could not disregard this brazen reply. Following another warning, which King Delphinius rejected (and according to legend, tore apart immediately after reading), war broke out along the 30th meridian.

The military conflict lasted a total of thirty-five years. In the first dozen years of the war, it appeared that King Delphinius would be defeated due to a series of swift victories by King An-Ta-Nas. However, as territories under the control of the Caribbean Atlantis began to rebel, King An-Ta-Nas found himself waging a war not only across the entire ocean but also within his own backyard.

Eventually, the well-equipped, modern Azorean Army reached the borders of the Caribbean Atlantis, invading the country. The military leader Sal-An-Syon, together with the exceptionally clever Princess of Antemidia, Ala-ne-ra, and his protégé, the accomplished Nerlandese soldier Um-Nah-Mel, managed to organize scattered troops, driving the enemies out of the country and saving their nation from complete annihilation.

For this remarkable act, the trio was awarded eternal remembrance and a place in the Antemidian Pantheon, which honors outstanding individuals who dedicated their lives to the...

...greater good of the country, Portia quickly jotted down. She then swiftly extracted a new ink bullet from her writing supplies sachet and resumed crafting her speech.

It is said that when King An-Ta-Nas saw the Azorean Army at the gates of his kingdom, he suffered a heart failure. Taken to the cooler chambers to rest, he confided to General Sal-An-Syon that their nation had lost nearly all allies. Most had either turned against them, aside from the Ancorans and Aztecs, or been defeated by the enemy—like the merpeople of the Bermudas. Thus, there were two million merpeople in the sea, and seven million enemies at the gates.

Upon hearing these words, General Sal-An-Syon is said to have replied...

Portia paused her writing to consult the notes she had brought, then continued:

‘My King, what else is there to do for us, who have lived humbly, working through today’s hardships to conquer better tomorrows? For us, whose character has been polished by adversities, becoming smooth and magnificent like sea glass? We shall find a way, as we always have, and we shall take up our arms and fight them all.’

And so they did. By employing several strategies and misleading the enemy until the very end, they ultimately secured victory and salvation for their country, now known as Antemidia.

This story, my dearest citizens, demonstrates that it is indeed possible for the nation of Icosahedron to withstand the modern power of Atlantis, as long as we allow adversity to reveal our true strength rather than permit it to discourage us.

The Atlantis² War eventually ended with the Treaty of Athala. However, that document is not a permanent peace treaty, and both countries know it. Although it has been thousands of years since the ferocious war, mutual mistrust between Caribbeans and Azoreans never went away, and as a result... 

“Still writing that thing?” Portia heard a deep, masculine voice above her.

She instantly turned around and squinted against the blinding sun. Only after blinking for a few moments could she make out the figure, though she already knew who it was—she would recognize her brother’s voice anywhere.

Justus Agricola had short, dark brown hair that formed a playful wave above his forehead. His eyes were also amber-green, though somewhat darker than hers.

He was six years older than her and quite athletic despite his title as prince—likely because he had always worked hard in the fields before earning his title. Today, he wore a dark yellow tunic with elbow-length sleeves and carried a sharp-edged sword at his waist.

“Don’t you have a week to complete this speech?” he asked, settling into the seat beside her.

“Yes, I do. But I have an important meeting today, and I don’t know what may happen afterward...” Portia admitted.

“A meeting?” Justus raised his brows. “With whom?”

“I can’t tell you,” she replied, biting her lip.

“Confidential matters, or do you just not want your big brother to know?” he teased.

“Ha-ha,” she rolled her eyes, feigning amusement. “Confidential matters.”

“I see... And where is this meeting?”

“At the Icosahedron’s First National Museum... In about an hour.”

“Oh, that’s soon...” he remarked. “Would you like me to keep watch?”

“Actually, it wouldn’t hurt,” Portia agreed after a moment. “But don’t you have other things to do?”

“I’m almost finished... I’ll meet you at the place. Or do you need an escort?”

“Don’t exaggerate...”

“I’m not exaggerating, I’m just anxious...” Justus confessed, concern flickering in his eyes. “You know this city is teeming with spies and assassins. I’m not even sure it’s safe for you to deliver this speech,” he said, pointing to the parchment.

“People must know the truth! They must know that we have ways to stand against Atlantis!” Portia protested.

“I think they’re already aware of it, dear sister. Don’t forget, information always travels through its own channels...”

“I am a ruler,” she reminded him, perhaps more sharply than intended, though she needed him to realize they weren’t going to rehash this argument for the hundredth time. “I need to speak up, and so should you. This is our country now. If we can’t speak the truth in our own country—the country for which Aunt Ligia and Uncle Lucius fought and died—then... then we still belong to Atlantis.”

“Oh... I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re right. I just want you to be careful, okay?” he said, his tone a touch too protective.

“I am always careful... You know that!” Portia replied, her irritation flaring. She was already eighteen and definitely didn’t need babysitting.

Fortunately, Justus didn’t say anything further to upset her. Instead, he repeated his promise to keep watch at the museum and swam away.

With no more distractions, Portia refocused on the speech. However, the interruption had drained her inspiration to finish the last paragraph, so she decided instead to write a different fragment, one that had been circling her mind since early that morning.

Icosahedron was, and had always been, the breadbasket of other districts. However, as citizens of Atlantis’ third ring, we never had equal rights. Both Justus and I experienced this firsthand. I was denied admission to university, and he was refused work in the inner ring, despite meeting all the necessary qualifications. Our parents and other family members also faced discrimination from the merpeople living in the first ring.

After the rebellion was brutally suppressed, my uncle Lucius Agricola petitioned the Atlantic Ocean’s Council to hold a referendum. Thanks to international votes, including those from Antemidia, Icosahedron became a new country. Now, we are embarking on a very challenging chapter in our history: survival and establishing our position on the international stage.

The past years have not been easy, but today, on the anniversary of Icosahedron’s Independence Day, Justus and I want to promise you that we will do our utmost to protect truth, justice, and everyone’s wellbeing.

We strongly believe that, just as Antemidia defended its borders against Atlantis’ attack, so can we, even if we are outnumbered. Many of you toil in the fields, awaiting an uncertain fate. Please, do not lose hope. Your labor is essential to winning any battles ahead. We must stand together—for our nation and for a brighter future.

Not bad, Portia praised herself as she finished the speech and began packing her things. She swam out of the recreation square and into the western Victory Alley. There were four of them, each lined with buildings designed in classical architectural styles. Previously, the offices of the inner ring were housed here. Now, they all belonged to the government of the Icosahedron Kingdom (and Icos). The only exception was the museum, which had been established as a symbol of pride and independence.

Portia glanced around to ensure she wasn’t being followed. As expected, the alley was nearly deserted. Very few merpeople resided in the capital, and even fewer in this district. The majority still worked in the countryside. Not to mention that Ligia and Lucius Agricola had lost their lives here during that brief, festive parade...

Pushing aside those sorrowful thoughts that did nothing to help her survival, Portia rang the museum’s antique bell.

The door opened with a creak. Once again, she glanced behind her before stepping inside and asking the doorman about her secret guest—Mrs. Toscano from Antemidia.

It turned out the woman was already waiting in the common hall, under the watchful, suspicious eyes of two muscular guards.

She looked entirely different from what Portia had imagined. Portia was well aware that Adelaida Toscano was, in fact, Tikalie Uxmal, the former and now officially deceased elective princess of Antemidia. She had seen several pictures of her before and had expected to recognize her instantly.

But if she hadn’t known with certainty that it was her, she would never have guessed. It was astounding how much people could change over time—to the point of becoming entirely new versions of themselves. Versions so transformed that it was fair to say they had become someone else, someone new.