Chapter 6 History Hidden in the Depths (1)

The dark shadows of night draped over Atlantis as Kre'as, the general from the deep, slipped through the coral archways and out into the open ocean. His movements were fluid, a dance with the currents, as he navigated through the labyrinthine city that shimmered like a jewel under the moon's caress. The water around him was cool and filled with the whispers of marine life, but Kre'as had no interest in their nocturnal murmurs; his mind was focused on his mission, his interest.

He swam with purpose, propelling himself upward through the layers of darkness towards the surface where the stars blinked with indifference to the turmoil below. As he breached the boundary between water and air, the salty breeze kissed his face, "this is a feeling I will never get accustomed to" He murmured.

With powerful strokes, Kre'as cut through the waves, leaving a frothy trail in his wake. He followed the constellation known to guide travelers to the Northern Water Tribe, where icebergs stood guard like ancient sentinels over the frozen domain. As the first light of dawn began to paint the horizon with hues of pink and gold, the imposing walls of the Northern Water Tribe loomed ahead, an icy fortress nestled at the top of the world.

Kre'as approached the gates, where water benders stood watch. With a flick of their wrists, they parted the cascading waterfall that served as the tribe's concealed entrance, allowing Kre'as passage. Inside, the air was crisp, carrying the scent of snow and sea.

Chief Arnook awaited him at the heart of the tribe, standing tall amidst the spiraling towers of ice. His gaze was stern as it fell upon Kre'as, even though he was weak, he was still the chief of the northern water tribe, and he had to at least act like one.

"General Kre'as," Chief Arnook intoned, his voice echoing off the ice. Kre'as simply nodded, gesturing for Arnook to walk with him.

Arnook knows of the might of Atlantis but only sees Kre'as and a few Atlanteans, his thoughts always lead to the same question. "Tell me, why have your people not launched their assault upon the surface? Why do you only come in small groups?"

Kre'as met Arnook's searching eyes, aware that the chief's question was laced with suspicion and the unspoken fear of every tribe when facing the unknown. Kre'as noticed Arnook had grown bold over the last days, but he did not mind, Kre'as was always a straightforward person and saw no reason to hide his kingdom's intentions, schemes were for the weak.

Kre'as spread his arms wide as if to embrace the entire frozen expanse of the Northern Water Tribe. "Chief Arnook, the enigma of Atlantis's absence on the world stage is no mystery at all, but a matter of necessity."

He lowered his hands slowly, palms facing the chief. A gentle blue glow emanated from the intricate tattoos that snaked up his forearms—remnants of ancient Atlantean bending. "You know our city is bound by a spirit barrier, a relic of times when our power threatened to drown the world in its chaos. It permits only some of us to wander beyond its embrace a safeguard left by Raava and the Avatar.

"So how will you invade, if your kingdom is limited, I know of the battle between Raava and Vaatu, are you hoping Vaatu wins, therefore the barrier being lifted?" Asked Arnook

"Indeed." Kre'as' lips curled into a half-smile, finding humor in the irony, Raava was the one who placed the barrier, but the only one to release it, "However, we are not as inclined to wait on the spirits" Kre'as said, Arnook shivered slightly.

"King Thalassa wishes the Avatar dead, so even if Raava won, he would need the Avatar to restrengthen the seal on us" Kre'as paused as Arnook flinched at hearing of the fate of the Aang.

"The king wishes to submerge the world in the seas, Atlantis is now in this dimension's oceans, any large body of water now belongs to Atlantis. The king believes if the lands are submerged deep enough, Atlanteans can reign free."

The Atlantean's voice dropped, carrying weight like the ocean's depths. "If we were to merge the world with water, then Atlantis would not be confined to the sunken ruins of an old realm. It would pervade every corner and cover every land. Imagine a world where land is but myth, and all people are children of the sea. Atlantis would no longer be a city—but an omnipresent domain."

A silence fell between them, heavy as a glacier. Chief Arnook's eyes reflected the vastness of the waters he ruled, contemplating the unfathomable implications of Kre'as' words. The chuckle that followed from the Atlantean carried the sound of waves lapping against ancient stone.

"Atlantis, everywhere," he continued, his tone light yet laden with the gravity of oceans, "is a dream long held by my people. And now, it is within their reach."

Chief Arnook folded his arms, the heavy furs adorning his shoulders shifting with the movement. His brow furrowed, and he took a step toward Kre'as, bringing them closer to the edge of the ice that served as a balcony overlooking the frigid waters. He took note of Kre'as' words and noticed that Kre'as never referred to himself when speaking of his kingdom's goals. 

The moonlight reflected off the calm sea, casting a serene glow over the stern features of the Northern Water Tribe leader.

"Your vision," Arnook began, the cold bite in his voice matching the chill of the wind, "it threatens to upend the balance of the world. Have you no reverence for the spirits that govern these waters? The moon and ocean guide us and protect us. What say you of them in your grand design?"

Kre'as' laughter was an unexpected warmth in the icy air, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. He regarded the chief, his smirk weaving through his next words like a current beneath a still surface.

"You are wrong on two counts, it is not my vision, but the kings and my people, If I am being honest, I have spent hundreds of years underwater, feeling the land under my feet is a welcomed experience, and the spirits…" Kre'as voice held a note of disdain.

"The so-called great protectors of your seas are nothing more than fish, Chief Arnook. Cowards, who fled when their strength was needed most."

Arnook's stance hardened like the ice beneath them, but Kre'as continued, unfazed by the chief's growing tension.

"Long ago, those betrayers sided not with the might of Atlantis but with the Avatar and the spirit Raava." Kre'as' face darkened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Together, they conspired against my race, against my father and mother, sealing our fate beneath the waves for a millennium. What reverence do they deserve from me or any Atlantean?"

The silver light of the moon seemed to pale, the ocean stilled, the atmosphere thickening with the weight of history and grievances long held. Arnook watched the man before him, seeing not just Kre'as but the echo of a civilization lost to time. Yet, the chief remained silent, the tide of his thoughts ebbing and flowing with the gravity of the revelations shared under the watchful gaze of the spirits in question.