“That’s why I don’t think it was a Descenter,” he said, and pressure clamped down on my chest. “I think it was an Atlantian.”
A Descenter moving freely through Castle Teerman was concerning, but the possibility of an Atlantian being able to gain access without anyone being the wiser was something truly terrifying.
I wanted to find something that would provide some sort of evidence that Vikter and I were being paranoid, so at the crack of dawn, when the castle was at its quietest, and Rylan guarded the room outside, I snuck down to the main floor and past the eerily quiet kitchen.
Once the sun rose, I didn’t have to worry about running into Lord Mazeen or any Ascended.
Entering the banquet hall, I headed to the left, to the second door, where I often met with Priestess Analia for my weekly lessons. As I stepped inside, I glanced across the dimly lit hall to the room where Malessa had been found.
The door was closed.
Tearing my gaze from it, I quietly shut the door and hurried over to the bare wooden chair, spying the book I never foresaw myself reading of my own volition.
Mainly because it seemed as if I’d read The History of The War of Two Kings and the Kingdom of Solis about a million times. I carried it over to the lone window and quickly cracked it open, holding it in the faint beam of sunlight. I carefully thumbed through the thin pages, knowing if I were to tear one, Priestess Analia would be most displeased. I found the section I was looking for. It was only a handful of paragraphs that described what Atlantians looked like, their traits, and what they were capable of.
Unfortunately, all it did was confirm what I already knew.
I’d never actually seen an Atlantian—at least, I didn’t think I had, and that was the problem. Atlantians looked like mortals. Even the extinct wolven, who had once lived alongside the Atlantians in Atlantia, could easily be mistaken for mortals, even though they had never been. The Atlantians’ ability to blend in with the populace they were known to subjugate and hunt made them deadly, expert predators. One could walk right past me, and I wouldn’t know. Neither would the Ascended. For some reason, the gods hadn’t taken any of that into consideration when they initiated the Blessing.
Scanning the paragraphs, one word stood out, causing my stomach to dip. Fangs. Although I knew what it would say, I read the sentences anyway.
Between year 19 and 21, those of blooded Atlantian descent leave the vulnerable state of immaturity, wherein the ill-spirits in their blood become active. Noted during this period is a disturbing increase in strength, and the ability to recover from most mortal wounds as they continue to mature. It is also to be noted that before the War of Two Kings and the extinction of the wolven, a bonding ritual was performed between an Atlantian of a certain class and a wolven. Not much is known is about this bond, but it is believed that the wolven in question was duty-bound to protect the Atlantian.
For a true Atlantian, two upper canines will form fangs, becoming elongated and sharpened, but they will not be overly noticeable to the untrained eye.
I thought of the two puncture wounds on Malessa’s neck. An Atlantian’s fangs may not be as overgrown and noticeable as a Craven’s, but the Duke could order the mouths of everyone in the castle to be checked.
Admittedly, that would be invasive.
I kept reading.
Upon the appearance of fangs, the next phase of their maturity begins, wherein they begin to thirst. As long as their unnatural demands are met, their aging slows dramatically. It is believed that a year to mortals is equivalent to three decades to an Atlantian. The oldest known Atlantian was Cillian Da’Lahon, who saw 2,702 calendar years before his death.
Meaning that an Atlantian could appear to be in their twenties, but in reality, they would be over a hundred years old, possibly even closer to two hundred or more. But they still aged, unlike the Ascended, those Blessed by the gods, who stopped at whatever age they were when they received the Blessing. Only the oldest of the Ascended appeared older than someone in their thirties, and they could live for an eternity.
However, both the Atlantians and Ascended still lived an unfathomable amount of time, the closest thing to immortality—to the gods.
I couldn’t even fathom living that long. I gave a little shake of my head and kept reading.
At this time, the Atlantians are capable of passing on the ill-spirits in their blood to mortals, creating a violent and destructive creature known as a Craven, who share some of the physical traits of their creators. This curse is passed through a poisonous kiss…
A poisonous kiss wasn’t referencing two lips coming into contact with one another. The Atlantians did what the Craven did, albeit not as…messily. Atlantians bit and drank the blood of mortals, something they had to do to survive.