On the vibrant planet of Anarkand lies the breathtaking country of Atlantia, a realm where towering spires reach toward skies brushed in soft dawn hues. It is a land known for its beauty. A living symphony of birdsong, warm winds scented with flowering vines, and phosphorescent trees glowing under the red hex. Yet, the true mystery of Atlantia lies not only in its landscape but in its people, the Atlantians, whose origins are cloaked in rumours and folklore that swirl as vividly as the colours of their world.


The Atlantians are beings of striking presence, with iridescent markings that ripple along their skin, changing softly with their emotions. Their large, reflective eyes hold a quiet depth, and their hair flows like strands of liquid copper, silver, or midnight blue, catching the light in the breeze. Their speech carries a melodic quality, weaving fragments of ancient songs into conversation, making every word they speak feel like drifting on a gentle tide.


Despite living in Atlantia for as long as recorded memory stretches, no one truly knows where the Atlantians came from. They themselves rarely speak of their beginnings, often smiling with a knowing sadness or answering in riddles when pressed. This mystery has given rise to countless stories told by firesides and in quiet markets, each tale adding another layer to the myth that clings to them like sea mist.


One popular tale claims the Atlantians fell from the stars, arriving in ships that shattered upon entering Anarkand's red hex, the shards dissolving into forests and mountains. They say fragments of those ships still lie deep beneath the ground, glowing softly in the darkness.


Others whisper that the Atlantians were dreamt into existence by Anarkand itself, born from the planet’s longing to end its solitude. In this story, Anarkand wept tears of light into the sea, from which the Atlantians rose to dance along the shores, singing to the tides and skies in gratitude for their life.


A darker rumour claims the Atlantians are exiles from another world, banished for reasons forgotten even to them. Their beauty, according to this tale, is a glamour disguising their true forms, and their soft songs are a reminder of a power they once held, waiting for the moment when they might reclaim it and return to the stars.


Among the Atlantians themselves, there is a quiet belief that they are children of the Ocean Mother, a vast consciousness from within the seas of another world far from Anarkand. Each dawn, they leave offerings of shells and song at one of the 6,000 utopian spires dotted around their country.


Atlantia itself is like no other place on Anarkand. Fields bloom with flowers in impossible shades—electric blues, vivid oranges, deep violets that sway in patterns when touched by the wind. Towering crystalline trees called Auraliths resonate softly when breezes pass through them, creating harmonies that calm the spirit and lull even the most restless minds into peace.


In Atlantia’s capital, Gaia, smooth coral pathways wind between spire-like structures made from sea glass and living stone, alive with tiny creatures that light up in pastel colours as they move. Channels of glowing water flow through the city, carrying the pulse of the tides into its heart, where the Atlantians walk barefoot, feeling the living current of their home beneath them.


Atlantian art is prized across Anarkand, with textiles dyed in colours that shift with the wearer’s mood and glasswork that captures the dance of water and light. Their songs are said to calm storms, and their dances are believed to encourage flowers to bloom and tides to rise in time with their steps.


They live in harmony with the world around them, building homes within ancient groves and the hollows of hex-carved stones. Visitors often say Atlantia feels like a place where time slows, where each day is an unfolding moment of quiet beauty. The red hex over Atlantia is legendary, the skies shifting through layers of rose gold, lavender, and deep sapphire as the hex works through its cycle.


Yet beneath all the peace and beauty, there is a quiet sense of waiting among the Atlantians, as though they expect something, or someone, to return. Some believe they wait for the Ocean Mother, others say it is the call of the stars from which they fell, while a few fear the return of those who once exiled them.


Whatever the truth may be, the Atlantians and their homeland remain a symbol of mystery, beauty, and stories that ripple beneath the surface of Anarkand’s seas and skies. To walk the streets of Atlantia is to step into a living legend, one that continues to sing softly to its unknown history and the distant stars.