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Rebecca kept an eye on Carrick, knowing her Calm Mind Charm was still a spell she was mastering. He was holding up well, with his typical amount of levity. It was weird watching students like Carrick and Praxi out in the field, but they were twenty, (assuming the de-aging of Carrick was calculated correctly,) and more or less as mature as Rebecca was throwing herself into the X-life with full force. Gods help them.

”Ah believe th’ parchment and book-bindings of Atlantis are treated tae withstand water,” Rebecca pointed out to Lenna, having spent time perusing the less-restricted books of Atlantis. The island was underwater for a long time, after all.

The cave The Queen led the X-Men into caught Liz’s attention right away, which was great, because it gave Rebecca a pit in her stomach. Queen Achlus was ready for questions, even from a newcomer to the island. She watched curiously as bioluminescent plankton danced around her feet. ”You’re line of questioning is why my historians called you here,” she admitted.

One of the mutants reading slates rose to attention at his queen’s command, taking one of the slates from his colleague. Breathing deeply, his eyes flickered with a blue glow when he opened them. An image filled the room like a hologram, illustrating the history as the Queen explained it.

”Mystics were still living on the island when Atlantis was officially founded as a nation. Their numbers were not great, but they served roles in the community. Diviners, enchanters; even a royal advisor. This chamber was where the royal advisor claimed to commune with guiding spirits of the island and the king trusted him. All accounts suggest he portrayed himself as a man wholly devoted to the wellbeing of Atlantis. It was on the second New Moon of Winter when his true machinations were revealed.”

The projections changed from the Mystics of Ancient Atlantis when a new slate was handled. The new projection overlaid itself upon the stone ring, but where obsidian covered the center in the modern day, swirling energy filled the projected portal. ”You have heard of the Mystics’ wells; the word came from old Atlantean, but they are not wells of water. They are spots where the veil between the Material World and the Mystical Realm is weak enough for mystical energy to gather. Most places in the world have so little access to the energies of that realm, magic is inaccessible. Historically, it was always where wells formed that strange occurrences would increase and Mystics would snap.”

The Queen gestured to the portal. ”This… was not a well. Beneath our own castle was something far worse. With wells throughout our island bringing more mystical energy into the world, the Royal Advisor found he could create an opening where the highest mystical pressure coalesced. With a ritual, he created a Doorway to the Mystic Realm.” From the hologram portal, creatures started to emerge. Winged beasts, feral humanoids, even creatures resembling drakes and demons. ”And in doing so, he brought all manner of beings into our world that almost destroyed Atlantis.”

Rebecca went pale. Paler. ”There are… creatures on th’ other side?” She was always under the impression that mystical power came from a reality of pure energy; she never considered life existed there.

”Yes, and your ancestors made the dangerous choice of creating a portal for them.” The Advisor figure, once more humanoid, appeared taller, with broad, demonic traits as a battle ensued. ”Many Atlantean lives were lost and the torrent of magical energy made the island unstable. It was as a last resort that our royal ancestor did what had to be done: they sealed the doorway. Knowing the island was at risk of destruction either way, they drew power from the earth, shifting the plates under the island and taking our home under the waves. As the island sank, they turned the energy of the portal and converted it to obsidian, sealing the doorway between realms.”

The final projections displayed the island sinking below the waves and creatures being slain more easily as the magical energy was cut off. ”The people of Atlantis managed to survive, but our society’s population was halved. Hence why Mystics are not given safe harbor in Atlantis anymore.”

Rebecca shifted uncomfortably, taking a lot in from the fall of Atlantis. She knew the island sank, but they never understood the cause. A doorway between worlds could be dangerous and unpredictable, and if that was the Cult’s plan, they would have to act fast. ”But the second New Moon after the Solstice… that’s Lunar New Year. That’s tomorrow. The Cult may come to Atlantis to try opening the Doorway again!”

”First, they would not make it past our shores,” the Queen’s second-in-command grunted.

”And more importantly, after the sinking, Atlantis no longer has the mystical energy for someone to poke open a well, let alone a Doorway.”

”Of course. So if they were looking to use wells to create somewhere dense enough with magical energy to try again, it would be…” Only one answer made sense; the same reason other countries were not seeing a sudden boom of Mystic population. ”Fuck.”