Blood stained the shores of Atlantis. Smoke filled the air, blotting out the now-setting sun. Buildings had crumbled, flames flickering in the shattered windows. Bodies of all sorts of species were haphazardly placed around the crumbling capital of what was once the Atlantean Empire.  Humans had lost limbs, minotaurs had spears ran through their chests, hydras lay on their sides with their heads missing, and a giant bronze construct’s pieces were strewn across the battlefield.

On the horizon, a fleet of ships left the crumbling island. Wounded soldiers rested on the boats, mourning the loss of their utopia. Countless humans dressed in bronze from head to toe sat in silence, either from pain or pity. While they had defeated Poseidon and the army of Tartarus, they still felt like they had lost the battle. After all, Atlantis isn’t replaceable.

At the center of the beach lay a single man, his skin torn and his bronze chestplate splattered by blood, not all of it his own. His once bold black hair was covered with gore and sand, his hair scorched. Next to him was a spear, the wooden shaft snapped in half and the conch shell inspired tip was wrapped in a bull’s guts, probably from a fallen minotaur. He lay next to his comrades, but something about him was different from the other fallen warriors. His chest raised and lowered, his eyes shut tight. Arkantos was alive.

The Atlanteans had lost their lives, as well as their home, but they had saved the world and the gods from certain destruction in the process. Poseidon and his army had threatened to open the gate to the Underworld, releasing the titan Cronos to enact revenge on his son’s kingdom. Thanks to the heroics of Arkantos, Ajax, Armana, Odysseus, and the brave armies of Atlantis and the Nubian mercenaries, the god was stopped and balance was restored.

        The Atlantean Admiral miraculously had defied death while still managing to inspire his troops in the process. From defending Atlantis from Kraken attacks to fighting his way through the underworld and being one of the creators of the Trojan Horse, Arkantos was a hero among strategists. He believed that with his army, he could save Atlantis from certain destruction. He was wrong.

Arkantos heard the familiar patter of hoofsteps, yet he didn’t even have the strength to turn his head. He didn’t need to look to know what was coming next. An armed rider or a centaur loyal to Poseidon was going to finish him off for good. His eyes snapped open, his vision focused on his demolished spear. He attempted to outstretch his arm, but a sharp bolt of pain kept his arm at his side. He wouldn’t even get the honor of dying in combat like a true Atlantean. Arkantos closed his eyes, for what he expected to be his last time.

The pain never came. After a long moment of Arkantos waiting for his visitor to finish him off, he felt his energy returning. His aches disappeared as his wounds cleared up and his armor glowed, removing the blood splatters. Then, he felt different. Lighter. Like he was in a dream. He opened his eyes, and found himself surrounded in a holy light. Without any effort, Arkantos floated off the ground and onto his feet, like somebody was carrying him. He got his answer when a familiar voice beckoned him. “Arkantos, awaken.”

Athena. The goddess of wisdom and the arts had been the first to notice Poseidon’s betrayal. Knowing that her father would never believe that his own brother would betray him, she warned Arkantos of Poseidon’s attempt to awaken Cronos. She had been there every step of the way, giving Arkantos the strength he needed to fight her uncle. Arkantos landed on the beach, his boots crunching in the sand. He slowly turned around to face his guardian. She was not there.

In her place was a snow-white equine, whose spectral mane flowed freely behind her, as if it was an entity of its own. A pearl-white horn shot out from under her mane, just as long as the spearhead of an Atlantean javelin, and just as sharp. Completing her regal stance were two massive wings of similar design to the pegasi Arkantos was used to commanding.

His gaze shifted towards the armor the mare wore-ceremonial golden boots were fitted over her hooves and a golden chestguard adorned with a purple gem protected her waist. An expertly-crafted tiara rested above her horn, a similar purple gem fixated onto the headgear. Arkantos didn’t know exactly what this creature was, but he knew one thing for sure. She had saved his life, and he was in debt.

The Atlantean quickly knelt before the radiant Alicorn. “Thank you madam, I owe you my life.” Arkantos didn’t like having to have his life saved by others, but he was smart enough to know not to anger those with powers beyond his knowledge, especially when he didn’t have his trusty spear.

“Rise, Arkantos.” The equine princess ordered. By now, Arkantos had already figured out that whatever this was, it was an immortal who deserved his respect. He had witnessed the wrath of gods before, and it was not a pretty sight. He’d seen trees come to life and ensnare warriors, lightning bolts turn people to charred husks, and the dead rise from their sandy tombs. Needles to say, angering a god is a deathwish.

Arkantos did as he was told, slowly rising up to face the new creature. Its purple eyes were fierce with determination, yet it had a calm smile plastered across its face. Arkantos was unsure of what was going through the deity’s mind, it was an impossible face to read. Just like Athena.

Arkantos knew, just then, that this was a being he could trust. Athena had saved his life more times than once, and her wisdom never went unappreciated. He often had her blessings during his campaigns against Troy, and he returned the favor with erecting temples to her for the Atlanteans to worship. While he had never physically met this mare before, he knew that she was to be trusted.

The alicorn’s friendly smile quickly turned serious as she opened her mouth to speak once more. “Your work is not over, Arkantos. The beasts of Tartarus have began to leave the underworld and attack villages across my world. You must defeat them once and for all Arkantos, or your work will never be done.” The mare sighed and closed her eyes before continuing. “We need your assistance, Arkantos.”

It took the Atlantean a moment to process what he had just heard. Tartarus rising? Her world? His work? He took a deep breath and answered the equine. “I’m afraid that’s too much to ask of me.” Arkantos sighed. “I’ve fought the armies of Tartarus before and look what that’s got me!” He motioned to his proud city behind him, engulfed in flames. “My city is destroyed! My soldiers are dead! Kastor…” Arkantos attempted to hold back the tears that were forming in his eyes. “Kastor may be dead for all I know! I’ve lost too much already, and I cannot risk losing everything again.”

Celestia’s expression faltered slightly as she trotted closer to the admiral. “Arkantos, I understand the pain you’re going through-”

“You know NOTHING!” Arkantos spat before he could realize that he had just mouthed off to a goddess. “You’re an immortal! You sit atop your mighty throne and watch us mortals with amusement! You don’t know what it’s like to lose your cities, nor your people! You have none!”

Celestia furrowed her brow, yet her voice remained calm. “I am a Princess, Arkantos. I have my own people to watch over, my own land and subjects to protect. And you’re the only one who can help me guarantee their safety. Do you really wish the fate of Atlantis onto my people?!” She raised her voice with her last proclamation, but quickly regained her composure.

Arkantos stood still, considering his choices. Before him was an option to fight tartarus once more. Lose more lives, experience more tragedy. Yet, it was also a chance for redemption. He knew that he had failed Atlantis. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

“Fine.” Arkantos slowly began to step towards the mare. “Take me to your kingdom. I will fight for your people.” He made eye contact with the princess. “Only if your people are willing to fight besides me.”

Celestia smiled as a golden glow surrounded the goddess and the mortal. The glow intensified, causing Arkantos to close his eyes as a warmth overtook him. There was a sudden flash and a loud bang, and like that, the two were gone.