It was ironic, this situation. Lying asleep in bed next to me was the woman I once tried to have killed.
Except, she wasn't even harmed. Her parents and mine, however, are dead.
And the world my wife worked so hard on, Atlantis, is at the bottom of the sea, frozen in time and invisible to all but a select few.
While my uncle never punished me truly for the deaths, I still feel guilty and feel the invisible scar on my neck burning every so often.
Ironic, wasn't it? The God of Storms and Tranquility, someone who can create peace with a mere thought, couldn't even find peace for himself.
Then again, I was only a kid and things were vastly different millenniums ago.
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