Poseidon's Atlantis Adventure

THE NEXT MORNING, WHILE MOTHER AND DAUGHTER WENT SEARCHING for herbs, Poseidon and Euenor embarked on their awe-inspiring journey up the mountain.

Within a half mile of the house, surrounded by pine trees reaching to the sky, was a two-man, silver hovercraft with a blue-and-gold, octagonal star emblem etched onto the side. The craft lifted off the ground with both men aboard.

“What is this?” asked Poseidon, amazed and wide-eyed. “I feel no sensation of movement.”

Euenor replied with a knowing smile, “This craft uses antigravity technology; it produces no waste emissions and ensures a smooth ride. Let’s make a lap around the island!”

The hovercraft sailed over the house. Then Euenor angled the craft toward the summit of the fourteen-thousand-foot snowcapped peak. Tucked into the mountainside was an inner courtyard, aglow with a dazzling, circular agate basin and containing a towering limestone building with exquisite columns.

Euenor opened the Tree of Life—etched glass door by touching an illuminated panel. He and Poseidon stepped inside the holy sanctuary, and a booming voice announced, “Welcome to the Temple of the Pleiades.” The star-shaped ceiling above them unfurled like a giant tapestry to reveal a breathtaking view of the morning sky.

The telescope perched at the top shifted in direction through its large, observational opening so that they could view Orion and the Pleiades from within. But this wasn’t all; special protection was necessary to preserve such sensitive components of the sophisticated, ground-based telescope. During daylight, Euenor could see puffs of blue clouds passing by, and at night, the stars were right overhead.

The flying craft and sky dome amazed Poseidon. His mind raced with curiosity and excitement as he wondered what Zeus would think about it.

Euenor turned to his visitor with a knowing gleam in his eye. “This sanctuary aligns with the Pleiades star constellation. I am of two worlds: part human from Earth, and part extraterrestrial from the Pleiades. I believe, as a god with special abilities, you can understand the concept of star people.”

Poseidon’s jaw dropped in awe as he gazed up at the morning sky. He turned to Euenor, searching for an explanation for the gold, eight-angled star on his red jacket. Understanding now flooded his face, and he followed Euenor down a long corridor.

As they neared the end of the hallway, it opened into a laboratory twenty feet high by fifty feet long. It filled its shelves with flasks of all shapes and sizes, lining every wall and reaching up to the ceiling.

A figure appeared at the center of this room, her bluish-silver skin shimmering like quicksilver beneath her white tunic. Silver hair cascaded down her back, and she turned as if expecting their presence.

Euenor introduced Kyrie, a star person from the Pleiades, before beckoning Poseidon closer to hear her explain their planet’s strategy.

Kyrie’s luminous amber eyes shone with a fierce intensity as her words echoed throughout the lab. “I received a mental transmission late last night, showing that you would arrive today, and I had myself and this laboratory prepared to receive you,” she said in a voice steeped in authority.

Poseidon inhaled as he acknowledged the divine presence before him with a reverent bow.

“I come from beyond the stars, from the fifth dimension of light on Taygeta, in the Pleiades star constellation. My form here on Earth is only wearing a humanoid coat of skin. What lies beneath it would be too intimidating for mortal eyes to behold … a ball of energy, an etheric body that exudes a radiant silver-blue hue.” She then plucked at her cheek near her mouth, revealing a bright light buried underneath her skin.

Poseidon replied. “I am intrigued by your human form over your energy body. That is amazing.”

“Lord Poseidon,” she said, her voice melodic yet somber. “I know the pain that gnaws at your spirit.”

Poseidon’s jaw clenched. His knuckles were white as he gripped his trident. “You know nothing of my torment.”

“But I do,” Kyrie insisted, drifting closer. “Betrayal by one’s own blood is a bitter draught indeed. But you must not let it poison your soul.”