The Atlantean Myth (Part I): The Thunderer's Tale

I was re-reading, for the fourth or fifth time, the autobiography of that great hierophant, the Thunderer. I still, to this day, marvel at the audacity that led him to name his own story, The Story Of Atlantis. It is the capstone to the Atlantean myth, that the island between the oceans was formed by the will of men, and not of the gods; more exactly, it is the capstone of the Thunderer's legend.

That is not to say the Thunderer does not deserve to have a legend. Far from it; it is well-chronicled even in the tomes of the barbarians that he has been a formidable leader who indeed made Atlantis into a legend far beyond its limited shores. The footprint of the island makes it seem as if it is not a little green dot, but something as big as Australia. The numerous ambassadors and diplomats he sent forth from this island nation were (and continue to be) all very good at enlarging her boundaries in the minds of men.

It's always amusing to me to see how he delicately skirts around the issues of the Gnome, the Howler, Black Diamond, the Misfit, and all the other sorcerers and magi of his cohort. Of them all, he was certainly the one most prepared to lead; of them all, he was the one who most understood legend and what constitutes the makings of a myth.

I still think of him with respect. I would venture to say that the majority of present-day Atlanteans think of him with the kind of awe their ancestors would have reserved for the Highest; a kind of fearful respect for supernatural authority and dynamic manifestation, occasionally tinged with impiety in the kava shops and opium dens.