The steps were long and unending, with the abyss littered with the light from pearls hung around.
They had been traveling for almost 30 minutes now, descending deeper underground.
Zeras looked behind him.
It was dark, and the distance ahead was even darker.
He couldn't help but feel his heart rate slowly spiking, but he kept quiet and continued following the old man.
His ears all of a sudden perked up, and he almost came to a stop.
There was a sound...the sound of rushing water.
'Running water!? Underwater? How's that possible?'
They slowly reached the end of the steps, and right in front of him was a wall with a staff on it.
The old man slowly walked forward, picked up the staff, and slammed it against the wall twice at different points.
With a deep rumble, the wall parted, letting in extremely bright light that made Zeras squint.
"We're here..." the old man said as he continued forward, staff in hand.
Zeras was able to immediately notice.
There was no water here...It was air, and right before them, just a few steps from the land he was standing on, was a narrow path of water and a wooden canoe, tied beside the stump of a tree.
The area was an extremely large cave, with huge statues extending deeper into the cave.
The old man walked forward and untied the rope holding the boat, then nudged Zeras forward as they both sat in it.
With four paddles, Zeras took two, sitting cross-legged behind the man.
The old man also took the remaining two and gently inserted them into the water, and the boat began to move forward.
Zeras also wanted to dip his paddle into the water, but a voice cut him off:
"Watch and learn, young one..."
A strange expression appeared on Zera's face as he watched the way the man was paddling.
There wasn't much difference to him.
"Tch... You're underestimating me too much, old foggy."
Zeras ignored the man and dipped his paddle into the water, but his face changed when he tried to pull it back.
He couldn't!
It was like keeping a paddle in raw earth and expecting it to move back.
"WHAT!?"
Zeras stood there, dazed, as he slowly stretched his neck to check if it was really water, they were on, and heaved a sigh of relief.
Maybe it was an illusion.
He removed the paddle from the water and dipped it in again, but he was once again shocked.
The paddle wouldn't budge an inch. It was as if the water weighed a thousand pounds.
Yet the old man continued quietly paddling forward, leaving Zeras stupefied.
Wait, this doesn't make sense. Is the water only heavy for him? Or is...
"This is the Ancient path..." the man began, looking up at the statues beside them.
Zeras noticed the statues were Atlanteans, each holding a trident.
Their figures were muscular and huge, reaching up to the ceiling above.
Their backs were straight, and they looked forward with serious expressions.
Zeras couldn't help but shudder in respect, just from their aura alone.
These were true warriors.
"The ancient path to what..." He asked, turning to the old man.
"The ancient path to the Atlantean soldier's ground," the old man said, looking at the statues and letting out a sad sigh.
"There was a war in the past in Atlantis. A war that forever changed its essence."
"It was a war with another powerful race...the Skulls."
The man said, gaze lost as if looking back in the past, though how far Zeras couldn't determine.
"The Skulls fought for something that belonged to us Atlanteans."
"They are a greedy race driven by a deep hunger for powerful artifacts."
"For us Atlanteans, the most powerful artifact we had was our Golden Trident."
"The Skulls wanted it."
"But how could we give up our most precious artifacts passed on for more than a thousand generations?"
"We couldn't give it up, so we fought back, and the results were disastrous," the old man said as he looked at the statues.
Realization dawned on Zeras as he finally knew who the statues represented.
It must be the Atlantean soldiers of the past.
"Even though we Atlanteans won and killed every single Skull save one, the war was still disastrous."
"Only three people survived among the true warriors who fought in the war."
"It was King Atlas, Ruler of Atlantis, possessor of the Golden Trident; his most trusted advisor; and a young child, that he eventually came to adopt."
"That child is Sammodra Zean."