Tales of Poseidonia Princess Ais Component

Port of Poseidonia: Princess Ais

[The Island of Iffrikonn]

Let us not all believe Atlantis did not have its secrets, and dark powers, for it surely did. And this sketch will bring forth, 1 of them. (Part III)

1

The Princess and Aon

There is a legend to this story of stories, that just before Princess Ais arrived to the Atlantis, to become Queen, a strange happening took place. And I shall describe this in poetic verse before I get into the story:

The Princess of Yllipha (Ais), was sent from her home in the north of Iffrikonn [Islands off the coast of Europe], and was met by the sea-creature, Aon, and the ship that was to bring her back to Atlantis, and there inside this time period, seduced throughout the voyage
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The Princess Ais

[And the Poet-Hippokamp]

As the wonderful ship sailed the eastern expanse

Princess Ais, searching westward to Atlantis,

Farewell, Farewell, thrice Farewells she sang

To Yllipha, in the north of Iffrikonn

Then listening to the monstrous stories of Aon,

Of the river Amphus, and its delta--

She dreamt of its grand and renowned Archkingdom

Of its renowned and spellbound, strange obelisks,

Of Atlantis' metropolitan streets

Aon--poetic eyes of green shoaling seas,

A mane of mystic sea-gold hair--

Ais, eyes of blue and night-black hair:

With Atlantian lyre and harp, strings of silver,

The Hippokamp seduced the princess Ais.

2

The Passing of Time

It was a July summer at Port Poseidonia Archeking Phrygian had met his Princess, and made her a queen. All of Atlantis, to consist of the Port of Poseidonia had come to enjoy her. And she fell in time, madly in enjoy with the king. For it was in those far off days, the Hippocamp's had all died off, even Aon, whom was the last of his species. The king and the queen, Queen Ais, had now been man and wife for a lot of years. And Anases had grown to turn out to be Archeknight, and governor of the British Isles, and was about due to return to Atlantis for retirement. The High Priest was still Agaliarept in disguise of the body he had stole some quite a few years ago from Xandore, and Hydras had died a few years soon after he received his grim night with the wind-spiders, as he so named them. Anases, had written on scrolls the history of Atlantis, put it safely in the towers on a sacred island, a mound known as the Tor, and was heading back to give the king the other set of scrolls.

three

The King

It was a July summer that this took location, that the cool breeze was shifting though the palace gardens of Poseidonia, even though the King was having dinner with his gorgeous wife, Ais. It was an unusually tasty and spicy meal thought the king, his cook being a virtuoso of cuisine, and the king being a connoisseur of fine foods. He was consuming: clams chilled, with turtle-green wine, with roasted young guinea-hen. The spiciness of the food, gave a bitter-sweet flush to his face: giving him an unquenchable hunger for much more, a lot more, and much more food and wine. He smiled at his young wife as he devoured the food. She was his, turning out to be his, his soul mate year after year, smile following smile, or so it seemed to her, however it was liken to a master to a pet feasible, but really like of a pet he could: it would by no means be equal adore but adore yes, but not unconditional adore, but enjoy all the exact same. But her enjoy was a lot much more: everyone, everybody could tell that: ought to he demand she take his location in the grave at a moment's request, a moments notice, it would be so--she would do it cheerfully.

"I am," he said, "in a glorified mood this evening, my enjoy, my sweet youthful adore, the adore of my life." And so it was, but even much more for her. Yes, he was a type man to his wife--possibly only to his wife, and a ruthless king, a vicious man if want be: to the world around him, but once more I say, normally not her, as most totalitarians are I do realize. And for certain, he by no means counted his sins, nor repented for them, or for that matter, stopped committing them. Thus, he had his enemies.

Trying to hold a beam, the King searching at his wife was obtaining some indigestion, a grin came upon his face, as his wife looked deep into his face, however the king for the moment, was not trying to resolve anything, just searching and becoming uncomfortable. He poised, dropping a second helping of the hen into his mouth, and tried to swallow it whole, not intentionally, but for some reason it started to swell inside his mouth and so he quickly tried to digest it a second time, in the method it was blocking up his windpipe, wedged in it, crossing over to a point of stopping his flow of air to his lungs and stomach. The High Priest was in the back of the garden, out of sight, behind a tree watching all the commotion and events taking place. It had now expanded in his throat to the position it was totally stuck quick, and he was attempting to throw it up out of his mouth, and his wife was yelling for help, but no one came, not even a mouse, or bird.

"What can I do?" she moaned with tears drenching her face. She was unwilling to leave him alone, lest somebody come and kill him out of spite and conspiracy, yet he was dying nonetheless a dreadful position to be to say the least. The High Priest watched the king turn purple, and yellow, and dark blue, and other unfavorable colors, colors of death, as he suppressed his elation.

four

Belphegor

(It was unfortunate for the King for his death took place within a matter of minutes and when he woke up he was in the gulf, the Wonderful Gulf waters of hell, and on his way to Hell's Dock.)

Entirely unrelated to the King's arrival was Belphegor sitting by a table on the pier [Hell's Dock], as the oarsman tied a rope to the wooden pole attached to the dock, Hell's Dock. Belphegor just happened to be there, he being a little greater in rank than Agaliarept--the henchman Belphegor was the King of the demons was just sitting rolling dice on a wooden table, his claws like a savage beast moving about as if they had been out of control, automatically with out his consent just twitching,

"What do you have to give me, to give Hell in return for a high position here?" he asked with a sly, however seemingly sincere overtone to his voice, sincere only that he would give him rank and position, for he required excellent and willing soldiers, subordinate to him. The King glanced to the waters of the gulf--it was a long way back to Atlantis, a long way, however no way he knew of and then searching at the towering walls and gates they had been thick, and unforgiving to look at, punishing to tolerate then back to the sea the gulf as it was known as, and the several ships in the gulf bringing in many, numerous souls.

"No, I have nothing to offer you Hell," said the King of Atlantis.

"No, I don't suppose you do," answered Belphegor. (The king understanding at this point, even although he was faithful to the demonic world, it no longer counted).

Immediately after a moment's hesitation, Phrygian nodded to Belphegor.

"And what did you locate worth value?" asked the subversive spirit of darkness?

"The queen Ais, who is all gorgeous, and retains her shape and youth as to other girls alive, for I am sure if I asked her to come to Hell with me, she'd do so."

And so with a shake of the dice, the grotesque hybrid, the wild beast of the underworld came up with a three and a six, and that was the hours he'd be allowed to get her--to leave Hell and uncover his bride and wife and bring her to the King of the Demons for his pleasures. With that, the spirit-shadow of the king got back onto the vessel that had bought him into the waters of the abyss-gulf, and the oarsman took him back to where he had come from, and told him he'd be waiting, and need to he not return, he would be put into the deepest hole with all of Hell heaps of matter on top of him for a thousand years, when found.

5

The Kings Request

The king approached Ais' window, it was an eldritch-night, with dark shadows crossing over the moon recognizable demonic figures watching over head to see if he was sincere about his expedition.

"Hiji," said the king in a ghostly drab.

"My husband," she whispered in disbelief, the High Priest had not taken her for a wife however, and consequently was alone.

Lost for words the king stared into her deep brown eyes, and upon her golden bronze skin and ivory white teeth. He wanted to caress her, but she was human, and he at this moment was spirit in a shadowy form.

"Pardon me my enjoy, but I wish for you to accompany me to Hell, where I need to live out my days, my endless days. If you come with me, I will be given a high position."

She did not hesitate she jumped up out of bed, and with a light to guide her, she stepped by the open window, and he led the way.

As they boarded the boat to take their journey back across the long and deep waters of the gulf, the oarsman basically sneered with his knotted-up muscles and black soot-like tar skin. In case you believe this all lighthearted, the king now was mauling over and over what he was performing with his dearly-loved Queen: I mean, he actually for when had second thoughts of his obnoxious behavior. That is to say, taking her on the unnatural, uncommon voyage of her own cost-free will, where at anytime she could select to leave, and to where he was unsure, and just why he was performing what he was doing was unclear, for she had not committed any sins that he knew of. But of course, God is the only one for specific that has the particular details and her of course.

When they got into the middle of the gulf, the deepest component of the water, Phrygian stood up and knocked the oarsman off balance, grabbing the oar, and then kicked him out of the boat. With chaos and darkness on his side he ventured beyond his reach, nowhere could he now be seen. The gulf of Hell was long and deep, thick with muck and slim, matter caked on top of far more substance. Visualizing her suffering, he told her to go back--achievable his only one great deed he had ever accomplished, but she refused, and having carried out that, she was condemned to be with him, as her flesh turned into his source of ghostly material and there they sailed, drifting a thousand years dreadfully and cheerfully in this endless gulf: the only comfort was they were together.
Tales of Poseidonia Princess Ais Part