Upon their arrival, Poseidon had been forced to drain his palace to accommodate lungs not as superior as his own. Now ocean water churned outside rather than in, lapping at the outer walls, the roof. Every few seconds, a droplet fell from the bejeweled chandelier and splashed against the ebony floor.
Hestia eyed those droplets with disdain.
If she wasn't careful, he would drown her.
For centuries, Poseidon had remained here in the water. King to his merpeople, forgotten by earthlings and utterly bored. Truly, nothing had entertained him. Not peace and prosperity. Not storms, famine and war. Then, a few months ago by the Atlantean calendar, two of his mermaids had told him of dissent in Atlantis. Atlantis, a place he'd forgotten completely over the years. A place they'd all forgotten.
A place that belonged to them.
He'd slipped inside, observed unnoticed for a bit, surprised to find the creatures thriving. Curious about their reaction to him, he'd finally announced himself. Still bored, he'd begun moving the citizens about like chess pieces, pitting the dragons against the nymphs and watching the strong, determined warriors resort to battle in their need to protect their females and homes. But in the end they hadn't killed each other as he'd anticipated. Hadn't really even argued. They'd reached a treaty, baffling him.
The unpredictability had been delightful. And just like that, all of his ennui had melted away.
Other gods, as bored with their routines as he had been, noticed the abrupt change in his mood. It wasn't as though he could hide it. The churning waters had settled into calm serenity. His four unexpected guests soon had arrived here, wanting to know the source of his joy. I should have lied. Told them anything but Atlantis.
That fateful day of their arrival was burned inside his head.
You can't just waltz inside, he'd said after his confession - and their subsequent desire to do as he'd done - wanting to keep his new favorite toy to himself.
Why not? Hestia had anchored her hands on her wonderfully flared hips. You did.
Yes, and we can't toss another surprise at them. That would be cruel.
Ares had snorted. Like you're all flowers and sunshine. We're going in, and you can't stop us.
His hands had fisted in frustration. What do you hope to gain with this visit? Just as we once forgot the Atlanteans, they have now forgotten us. You will not be worshipped in their realm, nor will you be thanked for your reappearance.
Apollo had shrugged, the dire warning of no concern to him. I want to know how my nymphs have fared without me. I should not have abandoned them as I did and wish to make amends.
His nymphs? His? They were made with equal measures of all of us, Poseidon had reminded him with irritation. But if he were honest, he would admit that some races tended to favor one god above the rest, as though a war had raged during their creation and certain characteristics had defeated all others. Besides, they have flourished despite your neglect. They are happy now and would despise any interference.
As they despised yours? Apollo splayed his arms. Doesn't matter. They fared better than most, I'm sure.
What's that supposed to mean? Artemis had asked. If a creature resembles you, it's better than all those around it?
Thus had begun a spirited hour-long debate about the strengths of each race, the weaknesses of each race and whom each race took after, finally culminating in an annoyed yet excited announcement from Ares. Enough! Arguing solves nothing. Let's put them on trial, shall we?
What do you propose? Hestia had asked hesitantly.
Simply that we put our opinions to the ultimate test with a little wager. We'll take two of every race - unmated, of course, or there'll be an uprising - and pit the creatures against each other. If your choice wins, you can enter and leave Atlantis unfettered. However, if your choice loses, you can never set foot in the dome again.
Poseidon had tilted his head as he considered the pros and cons. If he lost, his fun ended. If he ensured his creatures won, he could have Atlantis all to himself, just as he wanted.
A sound idea, but... Apollo frowned. Why two?
One powerful warrior could be an anomaly, Ares said. Two powerful warriors will prove the race's superior strength and intelligence.
And how will we choose the competitors? Artemis had asked, arching a brow.
Just the way our friend Poseidon chose the pawns in his little game,