Jena of Atlantis, the Fire Eye

By D.W. Anthony

Jena is asked to guide a large group of hierophants into the dangerous mountains of Atlantis to perform a religious ceremony. Earthquakes are tearing the nation apart, and sending carnivorous reptiles into everyones kitchens, and this is an attempt to contact the earth elementals to begin a reversal. She has the usual wacky group of companions, and meets more along the way. The clock is ticking as other armies attempt to destroy the temple, and its a rough ride for all. A thorough exploration of this part of the continent, with its even more ancient ruins and underground caverns, Jena must turn from weapons to accomplish this with wit and humor

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 13, 2004
• ISBN: 9781496970855

D.W. Anthony

D.W. Anthony is a retired State Park Ranger and Forest Warden, commissioned in Washington and Idaho. The author lives in Post Falls, Idaho where these books were written and illustrated on a home computer. The images were all done freehand, using no templates, models, scans or photos. Special attention was given to the detail of each image for accuracy. The Atlantis Discovery Series is an ambitious project undertaken by the author to explore this exotic old continent during its earliest times. Each book takes about ten weeks to write and illustrate, which reveals the vibrant exciting atmosphere they are created in. Watch for more of these titles!

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© 2004, 2007, 2015 D.W. Anthony. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/14/2015

ISBN: 978-1-4184-9144-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4343-1026-2 (hc)

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Preface:

Chapter 1 The scroll or the Mission

Chapter 2 Ibis Arana

Chapter 3 Knowledge hurts

Chapter 4 Cut the losses.

Chapter 5 Run, Bless or Fight?

Chapter 6 True Stories

Chapter 7 Troglodyte

Chapter 8 Dreamscape

Chapter 9 Naynie

Chapter 10 Twisted Destinies

Chapter 11 Jade

Chapter 12 Battle Death

Chapter 13 Summoned

Chapter 14 The Crystal Tubes

Chapter 15 Archeoptyrx

Chapter 16 Sudden Resurrection

Preface:

This interesting book was written and illustrated on a home computer by a retired State Park Ranger. It practically flew out of there with minor corrections in punctuation. It is the fifth in this Atlantis Discovery series of books about this old long gone continent. There are numerous references and other materials on this culture, from the highly reputable to the odd and psychic. The biggest problem in writing this was interpreting some of their terms and words for things. I have tried to make the reading easier by using terms we are familiar with, without going into a lot of technical detail. Their lighting systems for example are fascinating, but they often involved chemical reactions that would bog down the reading. The same for their class distinctions, such as slaves. This was common, but not as simple as it sounds. It brought about the same tortured questions then that our society went through only recently, and these social issues are not explored in this story. It also avoids a detailed explanation of the provinces and relationships Atlantis had with other developed places that existed in the world at that time. And lastly, the peoples names! These were modified or kept simple, little attempt was made to get the spelling right. They are spelled as closely as possible. Some of them just got changed into something familiar. Everything else is as accurate as possible, right down to their clothing and structures and customs. This book encounters some odd other races, and the fact that many of the early Atlanteans were using ruins far more ancient than themselves. The primary goal of this book is to explore humor and relationships, and this takes place in the early years of Atlantis, 65,000 years ago. D.W. Anthony July 2004

Other titles in the series:

Jena, Ranger of Atlantis 256p

Jena of Atlantis, Rangers Quest II 308p

Sumatra Alexi of Atlantis 328p

Jena of Atlantis, The Finger of Power 420p

…and Jena of Atlantis, Legions of Overstar, is next!

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Chapter 1 The scroll or the Mission

There it was, lying there like a pig in a blanket.

The scroll. The silver tipped, water stained velum scroll that Jena had brought back from the far east island empire of Valante. This was supposed to be a written history of that peculiar place, but the more she studied it, the stranger it got. It was in the universal language of the times, which could be just as twisted and bent up as any language today. What was worse, they had included a lot of words of their own, and the history read more like a recipe than a chronicle of events.

It wasn’t any worse than Atlantis itself for wear.

Earthquakes were the big topic. They were more common then than now, and Jena found that they were worse than just knocking things around. They could unearth underground animals, and displace all kinds of angry beasts. Even mice and ants were pushed out of their homes. And all of this would somehow get involved in the humans world, and there you have it.

Confusion.

Nothing serious at the moment, just some aftershocks. Some rambling reptiles of anger, spiteful armadillos, and so on. Many of them blamed the humans, because that was the only race that could really change things on the land, and so they must somehow be responsible for all of this earth rumble.

They weren’t, at least this far back in time.

But they were just as confused as the animals, and plants as well. The continent of Atlantis had come to an exciting moment of deciding to have an emperor rule over all of the lands, but after these earthquakes and some other intrigue, they decided to struggle along on their own as ten separate provinces. Jena had been sent on some curious adventures in this process, and with no emperor after all, she was unemployed.

She had been the youngest army captain since… the youngest ever?. It was an honorary thing, and it worked out when there weren’t a lot of other captains around, or even sergeants. She was one of those snappy crackers that had narrow hard eyes and flashing fingers. Brown as cookies and just as smart.

Her gift wasn’t knowledge. It was speed and flexibility. She had registered in as a warrior once, in the guild. Maybe almost a whole year ago in this timeless tale of ancient. This had grown into the ranger class, that had been interesting. Plants and animals, places. She was able and ready, but even the colorful army of the times preferred team players to scrappy loners.

So there she was, with her glasses pushed on, looking out over the hilltops, hoping for some kind of celestial help in understanding this cryptic mystery.

She was in an old school building that was pre history even to them. Wearing the rare pair of glasses that existed in those early times of no radio waves. Reading a scroll made from sheepskin that had been worked into a fine parchment, several feet long. The ink was made from blueberries and wood ash. And the pen had been a pair of brass things that looked like two sharpened Popsicle sticks held together by an adjustable screw and a pin.

She had one now, to make notes. No glasses for these, she was nearsighted. But there were no notes, not today. Not in the empty old schoolhouse on road 552 outside of the city gates of Mara, that gem of the continent.

The city of trade. The city of commerce and world travel. The city of survivors. These people were like golf balls, they just kept bouncing back from calamity after crises. They had meteors for breakfast, earthquakes for lunch and reptile attacks for later on. Things were kind of quiet at the moment, but things were pretty action oriented back then.

Thanks, said Mon, Jena’s young girl friend.

Jena took off her dust magnets and put them in the turtle shell case, For what? Where were you?

Out in the garden, Mon replied in her whisper voice, I thank you for rescuing me from that asylum in my country.

Oh, that, said Jena, Big trip and rescue. Valante the island empire. That is far away now. You have to grow up quick, Mon. I don’t know what to do with a kid. You’re twelve, or thirteen now, right?

Mon nodded, and came closer to look at the scroll.

Well I barely got out of that youth thing myself, said Jena, So enter a time portal or something and grow up quick. Take a time pill maybe. We’ll find you a necklace of extreme wisdom or something. You feel kind of grown up, right?

Mon had escaped from a mental hospital in a land that didn’t allow free thinking. She had met up with Jena, who had taken her in and returned to Atlantis with her. Mon was a free thinker and dreamer, and she was still getting used to exploring the horizons of the mind.

Sure, Mon said, still grinding through the new language, What’s that?

Jena laughed, Don’t worry about it. Just don’t get any younger.

So we are free here? asked Mon.

No way, answered Jena quickly, We aren’t free anywhere. It’s more than where you are from, but believe me, there is plenty of things around to lock you into any kind of slavery you want. And plenty that you don’t want.

Mon frowned, You are a slave, even here?

Well sure, said Jena, I am a slave of this scroll, for one thing. And if you go and cut your finger, I am a slave of yours. I jump around and get all happy about bandaging you. Now don’t get me wrong, I like the idea that I am needed, and you can be as funny as a monkeys puppet. You were in a kind of prison where you were from, and I am saying that things here can have the same effect.

When are we free? asked Mon, with her big wet green eyes.

Well, you can’t ask that, said Jena.

Why not? asked Mon.

It’s too early in the…ask me later, said Jena, Besides, I don’t know. I’ll ask around. Maybe when we are asleep or something.

We are not free in Atlantis? Mon asked.

Well…we aren’t anybodies slaves, and we don’t work for anyone, Jena was in think mode now, and that slowed her down. I guess we are mostly free. But look at this scroll, I am having trouble reading it. I am no big reader to begin with, and this thing sounds like monks chattering away in holy hero talk. I don’t get it. And I am not free. I can’t think of anything else. You didn’t cut your finger, did you?

Mon laughed, it sounded like marbles in a glass, No. I can help you again, I can read that.

I know, said Jena, You can read it. I can, too. The thing is, we can read the words, but not the ideas. It’s like a foreign language where you can make out all the words, but not what they are saying. The actual story. Here’s one.

Jena ran her finger across the fine velum and found one of the shorter sentences, The…I guess that’s the hero or something. The hero or warrior…Look, it says ‘soldier of virtue’, let’s just say hero. The hero did see the flame of wisdom pass through the heart, and did hear the hounds call to arms. I guess that means get your sword out, or something.

This was a bit beyond Mon, as well. Working poetry. This was like reading the old English writer Geofrey Chaucer; you knew it was good, and you knew there was a great story in there. But it was almost too much work to collect it out of all of the goofy poetry.

And this, Jena went on, Look at this sword here. This is the one I got off the old shipwreck, in the sealed container, remember? What a nice piece of work. You just have to wonder what a person like me could do with one of these. Most of the places we have been, we didn’t have much in the way of weapons. We were always losing them, or leaving them back in the rooms or something. Dropping them in the water. Every time I went for a fine weapon like this, there wasn’t one.

So? wondered Mon.

Well, little missy, Jena continued, It means I am kind of a slave to this sword now. I can’t lose it, so now I worry about that. I want to use it, and so I worry about missing a chance to warrior off somewhere with it. And I want to take care of it, so I am not even free from this sword. Funny, huh?

But, it’s just a thing, said Mon, twirling her braid.

Ha!, just a thing!, Jena said forcefully, "This whole world is made of things, and most of them affect us. Worry us, excite us, and make us think about them. And that’s just things! Not counting people or animals! Or countries! Religions! Holy brave missions!"

So this sword makes you want to go out and do something? asked Mon.

Yeah, you got it, said Jena, Just owning it makes me want to use it. Rescue babies and old ladies. Carve kingdoms out of chaos. Cut a path to glory!

There was a long pause.

Mon focused on Jena’s finger, stretched out toward the clouds. Jena seemed to see something way off in there, and she realized that she looked a little too dramatic, standing there staring off into the sky. Jena loosened up and sat back down. They both watched Iana out in the gardens, with one of her young classes.

Iana was a woman who ran a small school in medicinal plants at the old ruins. They were some distance from the actual walled city, so the small classes stayed a few to several nights, learning about the plants. Iana had been an assassin once, which in some ways, made her a great gardener. In other ways, it made her even better, as she tried to get away from her former business. She hadn’t ever killed anyone, but the training was pretty mind numbing, and this was her new career.

Other people were in and out of the fortified old building, and the school had grown into a fast success. People were happy about getting out of the heavy walls once in a while, and learning about plants was perfect. A soldier guard group always escorted them out and back, and they could take the chance to scout around a bit while they were there. Most of the people on Atlantis lived within walled cities that were added onto constantly.

And food was not scarce. Mara was a coastal city, and you could actually collect melons and other fruits off the beach. They didn’t grow there. They either floated in, or were dropped off the loading docks. A bit of knowledge went a long way inland, where someone like Jena could collect all sorts of edible plants. Hunting was a possible, if you weren’t in a hurry. And if you were not a prisoner of taste.

People inside the walled cities enjoyed an almost obscene array of foods from all over the world. You could even get little statues of famous people made out of chocolate, you bite off the heads and drink coconut milk inside. Candied fruits, soft pastries, and so on, were everywhere. They even trained some of their endless pets to wander around the hallways with little saddles on them full of snacks and treats.

If you were willing to live with less, you could just get out and stake a claim somewhere and fight it out with the insects, monsters, reptiles and natural elements. Almost no one did this, except for the families of barbarians, which had many different names and appearances, then. This wasn’t an age of individualists, it was not a place for loners. There were some, but no one heard much about them. Atlantis was not human friendly, outside of very thick city walls, and this was true for all ten provinces. Some of the capital cities could be pretty spectacular, with their light shows, plays, universities and research laboratories. There were fabulous water fountain shows, animal shows, drama productions and creative workshops. Plenty of culture, and those to enjoy it.

It was just a little crowded in there.

Jena could do it in small doses, but even then, she came off as coarse and hurried. She knew that her chances of survival were small on her own, in the natural splendor of the forests and mountains. So for the next several moments anyway, she was doing well with this short distance from the city, in the small school of medicinal plants in some old ruins with a couple of her friends.

Why, here comes one now.

Her old friend and mentor, Valerian.

Yeah! yelled Jena, as she got up to embrace the older man.

And the country suits you well, traveler, he said warmly.

What brings you out here? Jena asked quickly, Out of the caverns of the temple? Away from the hallways of power and intrigue?

Oh, it’s not that bad, Valerian said, Or maybe it is. The office of internal affairs is always a hornets nest of mean twisted people who could not get jobs down at the pottery mill or rubber plant. I like it there, though. Being a magistrate was worthwhile, but I always felt put on the spot to make decisions about others. Since I retired to the internal affairs, it has been like a vacation, really. You just pass around notes of importance, and memos of understanding, and everyone likes you for leaving them alone. Nothing gets done, and it becomes a perfect world. Up in the endless corridors of must and dust. Incense lamps on fifty foot chains that haven’t moved since the last earthquake.

That’s silly, teased Jena, You should be out here, where the action is.

Action, Valerian said slowly, Such as thanking the gods for every breath you take. No, not for me. I prefer the old hard air of the government fortress to this wild outdoors. I really haven’t even been outside the city walls since…well, since before you were this way.

So why now? How many soldiers did it take to escort you out here? asked Jena.

Valerian laughed awkwardly, That’s not fair. I happen to like soldiers. And plenty of them, this far from the city. Their spring uniforms look so dashing and all.

Dashing, that’s crazy. They all look like muffins, said Jena, They don’t have a clue to survival outside the city. Having all that gear just makes them heavy, and the design is all wrong anyway. They have given up movement for show. They look like boys action figures dolls. I will just keep my honorary appointment, but nothing else. I don’t want to get too involved with the new army of today.

That’s the Jena I know, said Valerian confidently, I am no expert, but you are right. Things are changing all over. The new uniforms are designed to inspire the people of the army of Ibu. Our province is just as sad as the others over having no emperor to lead us. And the leaders have chosen these changes to draw us together, even to what the army wears. This is not for war, it is for moral.

Valerian, really…feathers? asked Jena, "They think feathers will make soldiers come together? And the armor is just a mess of artwork on cheap ceramic. It’s like plaster or something. And it’s big. Big stuff on tiny guys. And girls. So tell me, is this a problem? This moral? Has everyone lost faith in our system?"

No, no. Not a bit, said Valerian, "Faith is our system. The people depend on the various temples, priests, gods, judges, and merchants. Even our money is based on faith, and the ability to pay and repay debts. It is all about faith. That is why the army changed its look. The leaders are hoping that faith is the most important tool they have in creating a new army. A new protector. It is the same with other things, even the menu at the restaurants are changing their names to reflect unity among us. The overall feeling is that these earthquakes are going to cause more problems. Whenever they happen, they dislodge all kinds of hoary old animals from their underground caverns and caves. Some of them end up at our gates, thinking of us as cheap cookies on a platter. For some unknown reason, we never get the herbivores, it’s always the carnivores that show up."

Sure, said Jena, We don’t look like plants.

It’s not that, said Valerian, It’s almost like they think we caused it. We change the earth where we live in so many ways, I can see where an intelligent reptile might actually think that.

Some people would think you are nuts, said Jena, "But I happen to agree with you. I have knocked those crawly boys around enough times to know that they do think. For all I know, we did cause the earthquakes with whatever awful experiments the whitecoats are doing in the laboratories. What do you know of them? The research department?"

Valerian smiled, They aren’t doing anything to the earth. They probably would if they could, but it just isn’t there. This is just a sign of the times. At least we don’t get the meteor showers some of the other provinces get. I hear one of those can ruin your whole day.

Fireball? Sure, kack the whole dinner. Are you on your way somewhere, or here to hire me? asked Jena.

Hire sounds so mercenary, said Valerian, You and I have been through so much together, that I can’t think of it that way. I am not here with the Sword of Olaff, or the treasure of the temple. I don’t have any special stone or crystal of power. No seeds of supreme unction or shield of benefaction. Not even any coins.

Oops, said Jena, smiling, If you didn’t bring any trinkets of ultimate power, then you must be here to appeal to my sense of duty, rather than my sense of need.

Clever girl, said Valerian, I see that more than just your sword is sharp today. This would be even more than your sense of duty. I can garden that almost anywhere with anyone. This goes beyond that, I am afraid.

That was quick, said Jena slowly, If you don’t even have any credits at all…this means that someone sent you.

Quite, Valerian said sharply. He was on a mission, and he knew that he only had a few moments to cut this just right, or Jena wouldn’t do it. Would you like to guess from where this comes?

Jena soured some, and Valerian knew it. She spoke, This would be a group of pointy hat guys with long titles and robes to the ground, right? The Grand Councilors of supreme…something?

Yes, and then some, said Valerian in a low musical voice, There are others from the neighboring provinces who have come about the earthquake problems. The problem is worse elsewhere. They have come here in part, because it is safer. And because it is closer.

Are you saying that we didn’t cause the earthquakes, but that we can stop them? said Jena.

You are jumping ahead, Jena, answered Valerian gently, I don’t know if we can stop them or even change them. But some people in high places do. They have resources. They have access to things that you and I don’t. They have visionaries, portals, oracles…that sort of thing. They have ways of seeing things that you and I don’t.

Ah, groaned Jena, And these visionaries and prophets think we can start from Ibu and spank things around somewhere close by to stop the earth movements. You know that these kinds of people are the worst of all the layers of humans I have ever met. I know they have their place. I know that they are admired and adored by the people. I know that sometimes they are right. Like, about one out of a hundred.

Valerian put his fingers on Jena’s wrist, Stay with me on this, warrior. I want to explain.

Jena shook her head, Negative on this one, my old friend. I can’t work with these guys. They are too holy for me. Their problem is that they can never be wrong, or it would pollute the rest of their stuff.

But that is not the issue, Valerian grew serious, I know you. Jena the warrior, Jena the ranger. You have always gone for the target bulls eye. You have always focused on the objective, when the rest of us are still caught up in the details. You are the one who has always been able to identify the problem, and its solution in the middle of an absolute pandemonium. You have always been that way. The way I have always known you.

Uh, Valerian, groaned Jena, I am only eighteen, you make it sound like I am some old half buried hero.

Valerian had to laugh a little, she was right and this wasn’t working, Earthquakes equal death and despair. Right?

Jena nodded. Mon nodded.

Jena’s choice: do nothing. Or do something, cooed the old judge.

I am doing something, she said defensively, I am deciphering this scroll on the history of the island kingdom of Valante. It is sort of like culture. And I think I am somehow caught up in it. There is this heroine that dies saving the people way back with a name a lot like mine…and there is this story in it about this warrior girl that…

Mon came up, He means about the earthquakes.

Look, that is out of my league. I don’t do earthquakes. I don’t make pencils either. It stops somewhere. For me, it stops with this scroll. I have been up into the mountains around here, I have flown tiny airships, and I have been overseas. Well, the boats always sank, but I was still there. I have done a lot of things, and a lot of things I will never do. And right up front is gaming around with holy oracles and changing earth patterns, said Jena forcefully. She was defending her own faith in herself. She had earned it. And she didn’t feel up to defending the whole continent, especially with the people she had the worst opinion of.

He means about the earthquakes, said Mon exactly the same way, just like an echo.

I have done plenty, said hot Jena, "All those special well dressed people up there in the upper levels of the Temple that decide all this stuff. They just come up with these ideas, but they don’t pass the mustard. They don’t actually do anything! No offence, my friend. But you are stuck in the middle of the biggest stink pie of circle around for a net result of wet napkins I ever saw."

He means about the earthquakes, said Mon the same way.

What? gushed Jena, What are you talking about, kid?

The earth moves, animals come out. Houses fall down and people get hurt. Then they want to know what to do. He wants you to do something. He has a plan, said Mon in her unusual soft monotone.

A plan? With fake wizards? sparked Jena. She was angry now.

Valerian had about a hundredth of a second to decide if her anger was working for his plan or against it. Make that two hundredths, the kind man was lingering in his judgment. He really didn’t have any options here. He was on a mission for sure, and he was not sure of it himself. It was one of those rare moments that decide all of history.

Nothing happened.

Valerian kept very still.

He looked down and studied his fingers.

Jena turned and looked out the thick window.

Mon grasped the situation before the other two. She got some visions of her own, not too hard to do, really. The call was pretty simple. Jena jumps in with some gifted priests or something, and gets the job done. She doesn’t like them, they don’t bathe very often, and they talk funny. Maybe they have bad breath. Dark men of no color and no families. Devoted to their gods and their visions. Called to their prayers. Mon knew something about all of that. Where she came from was full of this. Where everything was supported by various prayer cycles and ceremonies.

This was pretty common for the times, when so much was unknown to the peoples. It was much easier to assign the tasks of exploring the lands to gods, ancestors and prayer than to actually do it yourself, what with all the dangers out there.

Valerian was wise, and all of that. But he was smart, too. And he knew that the rest of the warriors available would tumble bumble their way to failure, as they tried to preserve their own special place of power and strength. He knew that Jena was perfect for this job. He knew that it would be almost impossible to get her to do it. And he knew that if he could do it, he would sing his own way to immortality as a godlike figure perched on a pink cloud of happy.

Maybe not that sweet, but well worth the effort.

Mon was the key. What a fine little kid to have brought back from the fields of death.

He means the earthquakes, she gave in perfect monotone.

That again, offered Jena, You mean I can do pretty much nothing by studying these scrolls. Or I can do something silly with the priests that just might work…

That was easy, Mon nodded.

It’s a bunch of ceremonial stuff, right? she asked Valerian. He nodded, too.

Candles, crystals, glass balls… Jena paused, That kind of thing?

The old judge cleared his throat, and collected himself, I don’t know. Possibly. That is not really important, Jena. What is important is that this idea came from the top minds of the northeast three provinces. Baktia, Ankara and our own Ibu. The oracles at Baktia have gone over this material very thoroughly before they brought it before our own high council. Believe me, they did not want to look foolish if they were wrong.

What is the material? Jena asked evenly.

There is a high level temple officer there they call a ‘factor’, continued Valerian, This factor has had visions numerous times about the earthquakes and how they get worse. These visions and messages suggest that there is in fact, a ceremony that can be performed at a certain mountain of antiquity, far inland. As it happens, we are the closest to this mountain.

Ok, why me? asked Jena, looking away. She wanted to hear the truth in his voice, without seeing his face.

Because you have been in there already, Valerian trembled, he felt some relief already, Not all the way, but further than any of us. You have been into the mountains and returned, no small feat. And you have done it without backup or support from us. You know the plants and animals. You know the enemies.

"Valerian,