Pangaea Origins: Atreus

The midday sun broke through the naked branches of the once lush forest.  The only leaf, dry and decaying fell to the ground.  It lay to rest with the other leaves that decayed into the cracks of the dried-out mud.  A small grey rabbit rustled through the pile of leaves for vegetation that looked remotely alive.  The shape of its spine showed through it fur, it had not eaten for several days.  Its eyes widened as it kept a look for predators.  In such a harsh environment, it was almost impossible for such a small creature to survive. 

Amongst the leaves, it found a few strands of grass tall enough to nibble on.  The grass allowed the rabbit to let its guard down for a moment.  This gave the opportunity for a predator to react.  Hidden behind a fallen tree crouched a young woman.  Her small olive frame dressed in fur lined hide skirt with a fur lined cotton sleeveless shirt.  She wore knee high pelt boots and wore a hide wrist band that reached to her elbow.  Around her neck were several multi-coloured bead necklaces.  Despite the plain clothes worn with an attempt to blend in to the environment, it was not helped by her long bright purple hair braided at the side and two crimson painted stripes below her eyes.

When she finally caught the perfect sight of the rabbit she lifted a wooden bow and picked up an arrow.  With the end of the bow an inch from her face she held her nerve and released the arrow.  It sailed through the air.  Unable to react the rabbit was pieced through its stomach.  The rabbit lay on the floor flinching as the blood drained from its body.  The woman congratulated herself on her kill.  She stood up and strapped the bow to her back. 

Before she approached the rabbit, she heard the echo of a horn blown in the distance.  This was not a good sign.   Weeks ago, a party of four men had travelled far from the forest to scout the land afar.  The horn was to only be blown as a signal of their return and impending danger.  The woman ran over to the rabbit and pulled her arrow from its limp body.

“Run!” A loud male voice screamed from a distance.

The horn blew once more, she did not hang around any longer.  With the arrow now secure in its pouch she bolted.  She zigzagged through the decaying forest and jumped over fallen trees.  She could hear more voices behind her.  Shouting and screaming was followed by gun fire.  The party had returned but it sounded like they were not alone.

Away from the woman a man lay on his back, his baggy clothes covered in dirt and blood.  He had been shot in the leg and was unable to run any more.  His pursuers soon caught up with him.  Two larger burly men approached.

“Is he the one sir?” A masked soldier in black armour asked.

“No, put him to sleep,” the larger of the men replied.  This was Atreus, the Commander of the Guardians of the Ark, an elite group of soldiers who served as an army directly for the Chancellor of the Ark.  The Ark was the great city that looked down upon the decayed land of Pangaea.  Unlike the solider Atreus’ armour was white.

The solider followed Atreus’ orders and placed the barrel of his gun against the man’s head.  He pressed the trigger but nothing happened.  He pressed it several times to no avail.  The man cowered.

“It appears we are within the realms of Arcadia,” Atreus smirked.

“What does that mean?” the solider pulled away the gun.

Atreus pulled out a long-polished steel sword from his side.  He grabbed the golden handle and thrust the blade into the chest of the man.  He screamed out in agony and coughed blood.  Within moments his head dropped and he stopped breathing.

“Since the formation of Arcadia, the land the it encompasses became unlike anything we have seen before.  The change in the atmosphere in this part of the world means we are defenceless here, hence why we never come.  Join the others and search for the last one, you may need your sword,” Atreus sent the soldier to the others.  He wiped the blood from his sword with a cloth from his pocket.  As he put the blade back in its sleeve he caught glimpse of the purple haired woman.  He had always been taught that no enemy escapes the Guardians.  With that in mind he sprinted after her.

The land had begun to slope downwards the further she ran.  The ground sloped into a thick blanket of fog.  Whilst this gave her the opportunity for cover it also meant she could not see where she was headed.  She slowed down as the ground soaked up the moisture from the fog.  Suddenly her foot slipped against a sharp rock and she lost her footing.  She lost her balance and crashed into a tree.  She fell to the ground and cried in agony as she hurt her leg.  In the distance, she could hear Atreus approaching, she kept low and tried to stay quiet.

Atreus descended into the fog.  He kept his balance on the tricky surface by holding onto the rotten branches.  The sunlight faded above the forest, it was unusual given the midday sky was clear.  The moon had moved before the sun and Atreus became engulfed by a total eclipse.  For a moment, he was surround in darkness.  To his surprise the forest lit up.  Tiny microbes on the tree’s sparkled green in the darkness.  Fireflies rose from the ground and danced in the air.  He was mesmerised, the only colourful sights he was used to were the city lights from inside the Ark.  The only colours he had seen on the ground were the pale brown and greys of the dying land.

Atreus walked for another minute until he decided it would turn back.  As quick as the eclipse appeared it soon disappeared into the midday sun.  The shadows moved across the forest and revealed the woman before Atreus’ eyes.  She saw Atreus stood before her and froze in fear.  Atreus placed his hand on his sword and stood tall and powerful.  He careful looked at the threat in front of him. 

“Please don’t hurt me, I was just hunting for food!” she cried out.

Atreus was confused, she was not the threat he had led to believe.  Instead he was taken back by her beauty.  From his birth, he had always been told the land dwellers of Pangaea were savages unwilling to accept the rule of the Chancellor.  But here was a beautiful woman out on her own hunting to survive on scraps.

An animal growled from behind the woman.  Atreus tightened his grip on the handle of his sword.  From out the fog a large white wolf appeared.  It was five-foot tall with a black stripe lined across hits back and its tail split in two.  He was left speechless at the splendour he found in its emerald eyes.  The wolf stood over the woman to protect her.  If Atreus wanted to kill her he would have to go through the wolf first, something he did not want to do.

“Sir we have the prisoner,” a soldier spoke over the radio on Atreus’s waist.  He took another look at the woman, the bond between her and an animal was inspiring.  Pangaea had always appeared a waste land and yet in five minutes Atreus had saw such natural beauty to make him question what he had always been told.

“I’m heading back,” he spoke into his radio.  “Leave,” Atreus told the woman.  He turned his back and disappeared into the fog.

The wolf lowered its head and the woman used it to lift herself up.  She got to her feet and slowly limped in the opposite direction of Atreus.  She thought for sure she would die in that instant, she could not figure out why a man sent from the Ark would spare her life.  Never had a Guardian showed remorse to one of her people, but he was different, he did not have the immoral look of the others.  He had the look of a warrior like those of Arcadia, perhaps one day she would see him again.

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