What does this mean?

Flying humans? Well, whatever means making that possible have to wait because a spell has just put the displaced centaurs out of action, for now.

The unconsious centaurs, after being magically examined on sight and determined to not be something in the way of a Trogan Horse. The Atlans would not put it past their old enemies, the Grecians, to use these odd creatures somehow. Perhaps a magical plague? Maybe something else? The Atlans security party who'd flown on magical, invisible wings to intercept these interlopers might seem to be a touch on the paranoid side, but then again it's kind of excusable and understandable. After all, they'd nearly been exterminated (re: 28152) and now were taking measures what they felt were necessary in order to make sure it does not happen again! So, of course, they're taking serious measures to ensure that, which includes sweeping up any unexpected people who arrive out of thin air on their island!!

But nothing particularly sinister from that corner of their fears beckoned, though there were some VERY odd readings. Oh, a follow up examination had been mandated because of . . . well, just because! However, the odd readings kind of upped the urgency of the need, okay?

After their initial magical examinations revealed no obvious dangers, the greet team send the sleeping centaurs along to more skilled mages within the City, and after a bit those mages within begin to wish that they hadn't! No, nothing bad happened. Rather, the examinations prove to lead to more questions than answers.

Some whispered that these creatures before them could well be one of the many products that their ancient enemies, the Grecians, had made through their twisted drives at pleasure. That is, the mages Saw the Echoes within these centaurs' Matrixes that hinted at prior shapes than what they had on now! These creatures before the mages had been human! That hinted that these horse/people before them (the term "centaur" hadn't made it into the Atlans vocabulary before their Atlantis had fallen beneath the waves) were the product of twisted magic. The kind of Grecian spells rumored to be misused by to change dissidents and other unwanteds into creatures to be forced to fight in sick gladiatorial games, where their eventual painful deaths were cheered and jeered by blood thirsty audiences. Yes, the Grecians (much as these Atlantians hated to admit it) were mirrors of themselves. Some kind of side effect of their ancestors long ago escape from the Cataclysm back from their homeland. Mirrors, but dark mirrors. Equal in strength and knowledge (example: the Atlantians also had knowledge of Matrix alterations), but polar opposites in certain respects. Sort of like the relationship matter supposedly has with anti-matter.

But the now dead leader and his son, Tesla and Zerm, had put aside their reservations in attempting to offer a fig leaf of peace towards their enemies, putting an end to what they saw (rightly) as an approaching conflict which would/could eventually only end in devastation for BOTH sides. Total destruction of both sides (like . . . rather what did happen)....

No, put that aside for later.

Yeah, well, some of the mages had been moved. Some had argued then and there that it was their religious duty to restore these poor souls then and their to their rightful forms!

"And perhaps risk their Matrix shattering, causing insanity?" one of their more learned peers sighs. "The effort putting them back to right after that would be massive . . . and the final result may well produce a new person who is totally different than what the Eldergods had decreed them be! No, first let us proceed slowly after we finish our examinations!"

And well they did because . . . the efforts at reversal would have failed and perhaps fail disasterously, bounding back upon the caster and cause them to transform into a form that hadn't been raised to . . . the levels it had. Oh, the Atlans were still human, but some of their magicks had been used to . . . improve things. They enjoyed a much better grasp on calling forth and handling the magical energies out there in their world. Their bodies enjoyed a much longer lifespan than those humans on the Continent. Something on par with the Elves. Atlans were . . . ageless (not immortal, but unaging after a point).

Made for a slow, tradition bound culture, but that's an aside.

There was some kind of ungodly Lock upon these centaurs Matrixes. If the younger, well meaning Atlan mages had tried to undo the Lock....

Then at the end the REALLY startling was the final tests that would calculate longevity. That was where the traces of the fruit of Eden showed it's face, as it were. Not only was their lifespan on par with theirs, but....

"They're . . . immortal," one of the mages whispers, clearly not having expected that. Oh, some half hearted attempts at a means for that had been in the works, but nothing really serious. By now, general social consensus was that while long life was nice, except for a few rare souls the idea of immortality just wasn't . . . for them. Immortality just wouldn't suit them, drive them insane in the end. Eventually, even the most stubborn would wish to cast off their mortal coils and see what's Next, as it were.

That kind of contradicted their initial beliefs about these centaurs being victims of Grecians. Grecians, it was theorized, would produce creatures who were, in the end, "inferior" to the original forms. That is, less capacity at magicks and lesser lifespan (amongst other things, some of the forms being saddled with powerful instincts and needs). But this?

Well, it was startling.

Best to pass the buck to their superiors to determine what to do with this mess! It wasn't their desme, anyway, to determine what to do with these centaurs! So report their results they did, which was passed along up the chain to the top echelons, who were still more worried about immediate things, like finding enough food for their City before starvation started....

But still, it was startling enough to catch their attention....

But in the meantime, the centaurs are waking up in a holding cell that happens to be across from one of the holding pens with the captain of the Heart of Oak.

Man does a double take, despite having a VERY trying and tiring day so far with his captors! That female centaur over there!

He was a low man in the scheme of things in as fair as social ranking, but he'd been important enough to warrant at least attending one of those rare times that one strange entourage from that one odd, strange nation called Aqualaria. He'd only caught a glimpse of the young princess through the crowd, but even that was memorable enough. Princess Astra (somtething like sixteen at the time) makes an impression, even back in her budding years of womanhood, you know.

"Princess Astra, what happened to you?" the confused man calls out, getting the attention of the female centaur.

The man's voice catches the young centauress' attention, but it appears that . . . she doesn't understand a word that he'd said.

Which is nothing but the plain truth. The Atlans had detected the magical spell of anmesia upon the centauress' mind, but had put off curing that when (and IF) their superiors gave them the green light to do it!

....

Yeah, yeah! Some of them being so eager and hot to perform powerful magics to return the centaurs back to human but not lifting a finger to cure amnesia? Well, the first had been religiously motivated, causing them (at least for a moment) to forget their places!

It's an Atlantian thing, go figure!

Meanwhile, back in a field somewhat out of sight of the crumbling walls of what some call Wallants....

The Champions have released Aeryn-Pip from her crystalline form.

It was a matter of fulfilling a promise. See, now was a perfect time for explanation (as far as they could tell). Now was "later", you see!

Sigin

We had been in a rush to be away when we'd changed the analog of "my" Chiana into a block. Caught her off gaurd, right in the middle of things.

"Okay, but I still don't...." Aeryn-Pip had been sighing, obviously still not understanding but throwing in with us.

Wave of the wand, and she's back.

"....Understand what all this dren is . . ." she says, starting up where she's left off, only to wind down again when it registers that this isn't the restaurant office she'd been in, last she remembered.

"What the frell?" she blinks, looking around.

"Hey, it's okay!" my wife says firmly, taking her sisters hand to steady her a little bit. "We're managed to get away safely. Now, we've got time to explain whatever you need explaining!"

1. It seems odd that we'd been able to be more forthright with Aeryn-Pip than with the native Fred and Astra....

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