In a sea crystal kingdom, a queen recalls stories of Greece, poetry from Ireland, and the gods of her favorite golden Egypt. She sends shards of her soul to a far away underwater city in hopes that she’ll reach its king. There, deep blue soliders have long been at war with an older silver precinct until the day its Siberian emperor crumbled. An unwilling Icarus, sunlight grasping at his chosen hands during cruel times, melting not his wings but his heart. Enough questions were never asked of this poor ruler and he was always God fearing. Now Atlantis mourns the fall of a wise civilization; regrets the indifference at his loss. Erected in a chamber is a statue made of ice that will never thaw. “Long live the memory of my father.”
