“Spaz”
"Peter--" Nia Noble called out for her husband's attention. "What is the matter?"
Peter Noble, otherwise known as the War World Two hero the Fin, remained gazing into the distance as he stood upon a coral formation. He had been in Neptunia for years, learned its culture and the area's tendencies, but today the depths of its ocean territory just rested uneasy on him today.
"I...I don't know, Nia. I cannot place it. It is as if something is out there," the Fin replied.
Her husband’s words caused concern as the blue skinned Nia Noble began to stare off into the distance. "I do not see anything, Peter."
The Fin never dropped his outstretched gaze. "I'm telling you, Nia. Something is not right in Neptunia's depth. It's as if the ocean has come alive with madness."
Nia placed herself closely to her husband. "You are beginning to frighten me, Peter."
The Fin's attention shifted with the concerned words of his wife. "I am sorry, Nia. I did not mean to scare you. It must be that old sailor that remains inside me."
Nia smirked. "It was the sailor inside of you that caught my attention years ago."
The Fin smiled, embracing his wife with a loving hug. It was an embrace they had shared many times over the years but for the first time ever, it would be broken by an explosion which propelled the couple flying apart.
The Fin struggled to arise, the debris of the blast falling off him in chunks as he gathered himself from the opening salvo with numerous scrapes. He looked for his wife to finally see her clutching her head but alright considering.
"What was that?" Nia asked, her head pounding from the blast.
"We are under attack," the Fin replied, drawing his magical cutlass from his side. He looked for the source of the attack, his eyes widening in horror as he saw a swarm of bodies rumble his way disturbing the once tranquil ocean floor into a giant cloud of dust which seemed to engulf even the depths of the ocean. His hand grasped his cutlass tighter while swallowing his pride. "Send a signal and pray someone answers, Nia."
It took just a thought as a large green circular wheel appeared in front of the fallen Nia. It was the largest use of her telepathic powers to date and the size of the telepathic wheel showed. Each slight turn of the wheel exaggerated the urgency of her telepathic plea for help.
"It is done," Nia huffed, exhausted as she stumbled to her knees. "I only hope that my signal was received."
Her husband leapt to her side, preparing to fend off the onslaught upon their nation. "If not then we will know."
# # # # # # # # # # # #
Schools of fish race amongst the ocean waters, changing direction in unison with pinpoint accuracy. It’s like a dance of colors, changing from orange to purple to yellow and back again to orange. The excitement builds with a sense of emotion only magnified by the sun light illuminating from the sky above. Their dance floor where of sunken ships which had been lost only by the memory of men.
Within the dance stands one man, his arms stretched out wide, enjoying the simple joy of life below the ocean blue race pass his exposed skin. Not even the mighty sharks circling near disrupt the flow of the serenade. He can hear the chorus change by the call of each of the ocean's residence and he find it glorious.
He is Namor, the Avenging Son of Atlantis and current ruler of the marvel that had sunken so many centuries ago. He had fought wars with heroes and gods. Thrown blows with tyrants and demons and never had he been happier now than what Atlantis had become to this day under his rule.
"Namor!" A voice announced a visitor, sending the schools of fish to scatter into the depths.
"What is it, Byrrah?" Namor answered his blue skin cousin, withholding his annoyance at the disturbance, but he knew such was that of a ruler.
Byrrah stood tall, his hands interlocked together at rest behind him showing his schooling from the Atlantis war machine. "I have been told that Atlantis has received an urgent message."
"A message," Namor questioned with a curled brow. "Of what sort?"
"A telepathic distress signal. A call to arms from Neptunia."
"Neptunia?" Namor uttered with shock. The Pacific nation of Neptunia barely made contact with Atlantis even before the nation’s relocation to Antarctica. They were like the neighbor you barely spoke with and yet Namor knew such a request must have been urgent. "Does this request for aide require my services?"
"I believe the Atlantean Army can handle the situation," Byrrah answered assertively, ever confident of the ability of Atlantis. "We can dispatch General Argos at once."
Namor thought of the request and of his cousin's suggestion. "Employ the services of Attumasen to go along with the General."
Byrrah almost choked at the request. "Andromeda?"
The tone in his cousin's voice almost made it sound as if Byrrah was questioning his decision. He looked directly at Byrrah, their faces close to one another. "Is there a problem?"
"No, Namor," a humbled Byrrah answered. "It is just that Andromeda has a certain approach that has rubbed General Argos and others the wrong way at times. Her skill as a warrior is without question but her diplomacy is severely lacking."
Namor laughed. "I did not decide on Andromeda for her demeanor. I want her there for her undisputed prowess unless I go myself."
Byrrah nodded knowing Namor's intent. "I shall dispatch her at once."
# # # # # # # # # # # #
Andromeda Attumasen, daughter to the fierce warlord Attuma. For years, it was a name she tried to run away from, trying to prove that her father's sins toward Atlantis did not represent herself. She quickly learned that her father's shadow was just too big to run away from, no matter where she went or how hard she tried to conceal it, she would always be the daughter of Attuma.
It was that one day, she remembers it vividly, the day she decided to stop running and accepted who she was. She was the daughter of Attuma, a fierce warrior whose name shook Atlantis just by the mention of the name. She took that fear and embraced it, becoming a fierce warrior that fought with Atlantis instead of against it. It was that day that she swung the sword for Atlantis with no question from herself or Atlantis. She became a fierce female warrior in whom enemies quaked for not only her ability, but her demeanor.
"Attack me!" Andromeda commanded.
Five Atlantean warriors could hear the warrior spirit in her voice rise up a few decibels. Her battle cry sent ripples through their very soul as they clung tightly to the handles of their sword. She stood there, ready for battle, provoking the men who accepted this sparring challenge as she readied her war staff in a passive position behind her. The stance signaled for an attack, and it was that opening that they questioned.
They each spread around her in formation trying to enclose her, calculating the space that separated them from Andromeda, waiting for that one moment to pounce. All it took was one brave soul to act on that moment where doubt no longer commanded the wages of war, one brave warrior to swing his blade against Attumasen, one brave warrior to prove himself.
It was one young Atlantean that gripped his sword with his free hand for a dual wield grasp. Andromeda could hear the grasp, feeling the cry of battle emanate from this young one. It wouldn't take long now as she smiled.
The young warrior rushed in, raising his sword above his head and with a downward motion attacked. Andromeda side stepped the attack, locking her gaze with the young warrior sharing that connection in the battle many do not experience until it is too late. His eyes constricted with anxiety with his missed attack. Her eyes widened with focus for a counter. He knew it was coming, some sort of deadly blow in that fraction of a second the two embraced. The sudden jab of her war staff into his throat disrupting the shared moment while causing only pain to the recipient.
The remaining men looked at their comrade fly out of the combat circle. One screamed with excitement as he rushed in toward Andromeda with another not too far behind him.
Andromeda let out a laugh as she whirled her staff into striking position. She had the advantage of reach with her weapon, and exploited every inch of it. She slammed her staff into the side of the first's head causing some excruciating momentary discomfort, only to follow it up with a wide swing of her staff to slow the trailing warrior. The warrior hesitated as expected only for Andromeda to close their gap within a blink, ramming her opened hand upward into his jaw sending the warrior skybound.
She could sense another one approach her, his rapid heart failing to hide his position. He attempts a strike only to miss. The same could not be same for Andromeda's, as she countered with a high low combo strike only to be followed with a low swipe to dismount the warrior off his feet.
One remained, still frozen in his spot. He grasped his sword so hard with fear that blood began to seep through the crevices between his fingers. Andromeda looked at the last remaining combatant.
"There is a point in everyone's life that they must decide how to channel fear. You can either let it consume you, paralyzing your every thought and action, or you can let it fuel you so you will never run from it again. Which one will you be?"
The young man's knees continued to tremble as he contemplated Andromeda's words. She was right. He was afraid of Andromeda. He was afraid of her reputation. Afraid of how she dispatched four Altantean soldiers in a matter of seconds but through that fear, her words did strike something within him. It was only fear. Fear of not knowing what awaited him in this battle - and that bothered him. He was an Atlantean. A trained soldier born to defend Atlantis and yet he quivered like a whimpering child and he questioned himself. He knew who he was and this was not it.
The young warrior locked his knees and elbows, straightening his sword with the action while letting out a roar that made Andromeda proud. He had found himself and decided who he was. How fear would have affected his life as a soldier and an Atlantean.
Andromeda could feel some pride within as he charged at her with his weapon. She refrained from smiling; withholding the pleasure she felt in the battle and faced him as an equal warrior born. He swings and misses. She connects once again in the battle with her gaze. She could see the acceptance of his failed strike within his eyes. He had tried with everything he had and failed, but he had tried like a true warrior. It took nothing more than a blow to his gut, followed by a strike to the back of his head and the young warrior had fallen.
There was a momentary silence only broken by the sound of a slow applause. "That was quite interesting."
"How may I help you, Byrrah?" asked Andromeda. "Or have you just come to watch?"
Byrrah did not like her tone, never did, but he would bear her presence. "You have been summoned to accompany General Argos on a fact finding mission."
"Summoned by whom?"
"Lord Namor himself," Byrrah answered emphatically. "He finds your talents rather useful if the need so arises on this mission."
Andromeda could only smile at the source of the summons. Namor had his own demons of heritage that many questioned and like her, he had conquered them mightily. "All hail the King of Atlantis."
# # # # # # # # # # # #
Hundreds of bodies remained still upon the Pacific Ocean's floor. Hundreds more savagely injured by the attack they had incurred. The Fin could barely feel the left side of his arm, his right side shivering as he grasped his magical cutlass. His face skimmed the surface as he pushed his way through the ground with what strength he had left in his lower extremities. If he was going to die he wanted to see his wife once more.
One of the monsters that invaded Neptunia stepped on his good hand. The creature’s other foot propping the Fin's face to look at him. Slowly the creature's face morphed with teeth and eyes peering down on him. The creature could taste its victory just feet away from him. The Fin was his spoils of battle.
The Fin smirked, "You are one ugly mother--"
The creature yelled a roar which seemed to ripple through him, causing the Fin to cough more blood which scattered upon the water. Its mouth opened wide revealing rows of sharp teeth ready to bite down. The Fin closed his eyes, preparing for the beheading until he was tossed back onto the ocean's surface.
Another creature approached, more humanoid than the others yet deformed none the less. He walked slowly with a cowl wrapped around him with a trident like object pacing his steps. "Spare whatever survivors that survived the onslaught. This was meant as a message for Atlantis."
The creatures did nothing more than listen to the command, their eyes and teeth disappearing into their bodies as they departed. The Fin knew he was lucky to survive but many of his Neptunian comrades did not experience the same luck. He could do nothing more than remain motionless due to his strength departing from him with the battle.
He had lost concept of time, hoping his wife survived the ordeal and would scoop him up in her arms or that he would be awoken from this terrible nightmare. The crushing sensation he experienced from his ribs every time he coughed signaled it wasn't a dream. He waited and waited and there was a moment he thought he was better off dead until a shadowy figured hovered him.
"Hello. I am here to help."
# # # # # # # # # # # #
"Hold! Something Approaches!" the blue skinned Andromeda shouted to her contingent with a still fist to halt their march. Her eyes opened widely in disbelief. Her mind rummaged for her next words. She was a battalion commander for the Atlantean army, the daughter of Attuma the warlord, and in all her days had never seen what had begun to approach her.
General Argos, approached Andromeda’s position. "Father Neptune --- What happened here?" He uttered with the same shock Andromeda possessed.
Before the Atlantean battalion approached a swarm of injured Neptunians, each showing wear of a vicious battle. Each barely able to continue in their journey as some showed missing limbs while others aiding the more injured. They were not Atlantean by heritage, but in that moment it did not matter to any of the Atlantean's present. The Neptunians breathed the same waters and they had succumbed to a vicious attack, a merciless showing in which Andromeda doubted if many of the survivors could go any further.
Andromeda summoned a member of her battalion to her with a gesture of a wave. "This exodus is casualties of war. Divide the unit amongst this exodus and begin to assess the casualties and lend aide with what supplies we have, Cirin. I will locate their leader to try to understand what has happened here."
Cirin acknowledged the command, gesturing the battalion to divide ranks as commanded. They moved down the coral structure to move adjacent to the exodus with not so much of a wink toward the Atlantean presence. The Neptunians were beaten both physically and emotionally, and it appeared as if their very souls were not far.
"Who leads this march?" Andromeda asked as she and General Argos approached the front of the Neptunian march.
"That would be me," a battered voice answered from the crowd followed by a salute. "Lieutenant Peter Noble at your service."
Andromeda and General Argos attention instantly fixed on the Lieutenant's pale skin complexion. "You are a surface dweller!"
"Couldn't hide it, huh!" The Fin responded with a chuckle, the signal he received from his ribs still revealing the extent of his injuries.
Andromeda did not find the humor in the Fin's tone. "We can provide your followers with medical aide right here. I am not authorized to do anything further. If you lead me to the direction in which your assailant headed, I can cast vengeance upon them with my blade."
"I doubt your blade will do much," said the Fin. "You and your Atlantean army seem very capable, but this is way more than I believe they can handle."
"What right do you have to question Atlanteans?" General Argos asked with bitter disbelief regarding the Lieutenant's suggestion.
Andromeda laughed at the bravado of both men. "What is it you seek, Lieutenant Noble?"
"We seek asylum in Atlantis," the Fin responded quickly and assertively. The look in his eyes did not question his motives for the safety of his people.
Argos' mannerisms shifted to annoyance by the suggestion. "And how is it you came to this decision?" Argos asked as if he was attempted to hold back any humor he found in the question.
"That would be because of me," a voice spoke up from the crowd. Andromeda and Argos' eyes shifted to gaze upon the source of the voice. The crowd of injured Neptunians shifted to reveal a green skinned female approach. "I am the one that told them to seek aide in Atlantis."
Andromeda's eyes opened wide as the identity of the woman finally hit her. It had been some time, but Andromeda knew that the woman in front of her was an Atlantean Royal. With such, Andromeda and Argos both showed her such respect, for Marrina Smallwood stood before them; chosen queen of Atlantis.
# # # # # # # # # # # #
The gates of Atlantis had opened with the return of their battalion but also with the swarm of injured Neptunians by their side. Many Atlanteans looked upon the wounds the Neptunians had sustained. Some had mangled limbs, some carrying their comrades that couldn't survive the trek. Though many resident to the city looked upon the swarm with sympathy in their eyes, it was not a consensus emotion felt by all.
"Andromeda!" Hollered Byrrah, as he stormed down the stairway of the Atlantean perimeter wall. "What is the meaning of this? You and your troops were sent to investigate a disturbance. You have no authority to bring anyone to our gates."
"Hold your tongue Byrrah!" The fiery warrior-woman responded as she dismounted from her chariot. "It was not my call to bring these survivors here. I was under authority to do so."
"Authority?" Byrrah questioned. "By whom?"
"By me, Byrrah."
Byrrah's eyes enlarged by the source of the voice and within a second he and many other Atlanteans bowed to a knee. Byrrah especially choked slightly at the name that would roll off his lips. It seemed like another lifetime ago that he had married his cousin Namor, ruler of Atlantis, to this woman. "Lady Marrina."
"Arise, Byrrah," Marrina said the name softly. "The people of Neptunia need Atlantis help. Some armada has destroyed their city and I come here to plea to Namor."
"Why plea to the ruler of Atlantis, the avenging son, when all you had to do was ask, Marrina?" A familiar voice boomed from the hall corridor shadows. It was that of the nation's king. The booming voice of Atlantis ruler seemed to have enveloped the entire underwater city. The guards once again bowed in reverence as the King of Atlantis had appeared.
Namor had arrived.
"All hail the first monarch of Atlantis! All hail, Namor!" The Atlantean contingent shouted.
Namor had a devilish grin that only Marrina could see as every other Atlantean fixed their gaze to the surface. Namor stood there for a moment casting his gaze upon his wife he once thought lost.
Marrina returned the gaze as she peered into his eyes. She instantly noticed the crown which dawned his head which he had fought many times to reclaim. A crimson cloak draped over his shoulders concealed all but his chiseled chest.
"Namor, these people need your help."
"Why is it that you intercede for my help, Marrina?" Namor asked, moving closer to Marrina until he could be heard with a whisper. "For if you shall still want it, Neptunia shall have our help--- together as rulers of Atlantis."
Marrina felt shamed. It had been months since she had been back amongst the living from her false sleep but this was the first time she had sought Namor, her husband. "I...I am not...I have been gone for so long," she uttered.
"It was not your fault," Namor said, cutting her off from expressing her guilt. "For my burden runs deep too, as it was I who had to plunge the Ebony Blade into your belly in your fury. I have not forgotten that day, and I swear I will make the cause of our suffering suffer from my own hands. Have me Marrina and we shall rule Atlantis together."
Marrina nodded with approval as Namor returned it with a smile. There love reconnecting as if it had never been broken. "The people of Neptunia need our help, Namor."
"As you know, I can hear a school of fish change direction half an ocean away. When the currents in the deepest part of the ocean alter even a single degree I know it. Nothing that happens under the waters of my realm happens without me knowing. An attack has challenged the sovereignty of Atlantis and this transgression shall be paid in full. So says Namor, the First Avenging Son."
"All hail the first monarch of Atlantis! All hail, Namor!"
# # # # # # # # # # # #
Author’s Note:
Here it is! The first issue of Namor. I would like to thank David Golightly for allowing me to kick the tires off and continue the series. I feel very happy to have written it and hope many more follow. I wanted to get this out before I got too busy with stuff. I changed some stuff around with the birth of my fourth child a month and changed it again within the month once I heard the news was grandmother had fallen ill. I’m off to see her since they say she is not doing well and I may change a few things here and there while also sticking to the script. I had a lot of emotion built up and it just made me want to express it with certain characters that struck a chord with me. She lives on a small island in the Pacific in which you can walk miles on out once low tide hits and it is so glorious. Hopefully I get more inspiration for the series once I get back. This one is dedicated to you Nana.
"Peter--" Nia Noble called out for her husband's attention. "What is the matter?"
Peter Noble, otherwise known as the War World Two hero the Fin, remained gazing into the distance as he stood upon a coral formation. He had been in Neptunia for years, learned its culture and the area's tendencies, but today the depths of its ocean territory just rested uneasy on him today.
"I...I don't know, Nia. I cannot place it. It is as if something is out there," the Fin replied.
Her husband’s words caused concern as the blue skinned Nia Noble began to stare off into the distance. "I do not see anything, Peter."
The Fin never dropped his outstretched gaze. "I'm telling you, Nia. Something is not right in Neptunia's depth. It's as if the ocean has come alive with madness."
Nia placed herself closely to her husband. "You are beginning to frighten me, Peter."
The Fin's attention shifted with the concerned words of his wife. "I am sorry, Nia. I did not mean to scare you. It must be that old sailor that remains inside me."
Nia smirked. "It was the sailor inside of you that caught my attention years ago."
The Fin smiled, embracing his wife with a loving hug. It was an embrace they had shared many times over the years but for the first time ever, it would be broken by an explosion which propelled the couple flying apart.
The Fin struggled to arise, the debris of the blast falling off him in chunks as he gathered himself from the opening salvo with numerous scrapes. He looked for his wife to finally see her clutching her head but alright considering.
"What was that?" Nia asked, her head pounding from the blast.
"We are under attack," the Fin replied, drawing his magical cutlass from his side. He looked for the source of the attack, his eyes widening in horror as he saw a swarm of bodies rumble his way disturbing the once tranquil ocean floor into a giant cloud of dust which seemed to engulf even the depths of the ocean. His hand grasped his cutlass tighter while swallowing his pride. "Send a signal and pray someone answers, Nia."
It took just a thought as a large green circular wheel appeared in front of the fallen Nia. It was the largest use of her telepathic powers to date and the size of the telepathic wheel showed. Each slight turn of the wheel exaggerated the urgency of her telepathic plea for help.
"It is done," Nia huffed, exhausted as she stumbled to her knees. "I only hope that my signal was received."
Her husband leapt to her side, preparing to fend off the onslaught upon their nation. "If not then we will know."
# # # # # # # # # # # #
Schools of fish race amongst the ocean waters, changing direction in unison with pinpoint accuracy. It’s like a dance of colors, changing from orange to purple to yellow and back again to orange. The excitement builds with a sense of emotion only magnified by the sun light illuminating from the sky above. Their dance floor where of sunken ships which had been lost only by the memory of men.
Within the dance stands one man, his arms stretched out wide, enjoying the simple joy of life below the ocean blue race pass his exposed skin. Not even the mighty sharks circling near disrupt the flow of the serenade. He can hear the chorus change by the call of each of the ocean's residence and he find it glorious.
He is Namor, the Avenging Son of Atlantis and current ruler of the marvel that had sunken so many centuries ago. He had fought wars with heroes and gods. Thrown blows with tyrants and demons and never had he been happier now than what Atlantis had become to this day under his rule.
"Namor!" A voice announced a visitor, sending the schools of fish to scatter into the depths.
"What is it, Byrrah?" Namor answered his blue skin cousin, withholding his annoyance at the disturbance, but he knew such was that of a ruler.
Byrrah stood tall, his hands interlocked together at rest behind him showing his schooling from the Atlantis war machine. "I have been told that Atlantis has received an urgent message."
"A message," Namor questioned with a curled brow. "Of what sort?"
"A telepathic distress signal. A call to arms from Neptunia."
"Neptunia?" Namor uttered with shock. The Pacific nation of Neptunia barely made contact with Atlantis even before the nation’s relocation to Antarctica. They were like the neighbor you barely spoke with and yet Namor knew such a request must have been urgent. "Does this request for aide require my services?"
"I believe the Atlantean Army can handle the situation," Byrrah answered assertively, ever confident of the ability of Atlantis. "We can dispatch General Argos at once."
Namor thought of the request and of his cousin's suggestion. "Employ the services of Attumasen to go along with the General."
Byrrah almost choked at the request. "Andromeda?"
The tone in his cousin's voice almost made it sound as if Byrrah was questioning his decision. He looked directly at Byrrah, their faces close to one another. "Is there a problem?"
"No, Namor," a humbled Byrrah answered. "It is just that Andromeda has a certain approach that has rubbed General Argos and others the wrong way at times. Her skill as a warrior is without question but her diplomacy is severely lacking."
Namor laughed. "I did not decide on Andromeda for her demeanor. I want her there for her undisputed prowess unless I go myself."
Byrrah nodded knowing Namor's intent. "I shall dispatch her at once."
# # # # # # # # # # # #
Andromeda Attumasen, daughter to the fierce warlord Attuma. For years, it was a name she tried to run away from, trying to prove that her father's sins toward Atlantis did not represent herself. She quickly learned that her father's shadow was just too big to run away from, no matter where she went or how hard she tried to conceal it, she would always be the daughter of Attuma.
It was that one day, she remembers it vividly, the day she decided to stop running and accepted who she was. She was the daughter of Attuma, a fierce warrior whose name shook Atlantis just by the mention of the name. She took that fear and embraced it, becoming a fierce warrior that fought with Atlantis instead of against it. It was that day that she swung the sword for Atlantis with no question from herself or Atlantis. She became a fierce female warrior in whom enemies quaked for not only her ability, but her demeanor.
"Attack me!" Andromeda commanded.
Five Atlantean warriors could hear the warrior spirit in her voice rise up a few decibels. Her battle cry sent ripples through their very soul as they clung tightly to the handles of their sword. She stood there, ready for battle, provoking the men who accepted this sparring challenge as she readied her war staff in a passive position behind her. The stance signaled for an attack, and it was that opening that they questioned.
They each spread around her in formation trying to enclose her, calculating the space that separated them from Andromeda, waiting for that one moment to pounce. All it took was one brave soul to act on that moment where doubt no longer commanded the wages of war, one brave warrior to swing his blade against Attumasen, one brave warrior to prove himself.
It was one young Atlantean that gripped his sword with his free hand for a dual wield grasp. Andromeda could hear the grasp, feeling the cry of battle emanate from this young one. It wouldn't take long now as she smiled.
The young warrior rushed in, raising his sword above his head and with a downward motion attacked. Andromeda side stepped the attack, locking her gaze with the young warrior sharing that connection in the battle many do not experience until it is too late. His eyes constricted with anxiety with his missed attack. Her eyes widened with focus for a counter. He knew it was coming, some sort of deadly blow in that fraction of a second the two embraced. The sudden jab of her war staff into his throat disrupting the shared moment while causing only pain to the recipient.
The remaining men looked at their comrade fly out of the combat circle. One screamed with excitement as he rushed in toward Andromeda with another not too far behind him.
Andromeda let out a laugh as she whirled her staff into striking position. She had the advantage of reach with her weapon, and exploited every inch of it. She slammed her staff into the side of the first's head causing some excruciating momentary discomfort, only to follow it up with a wide swing of her staff to slow the trailing warrior. The warrior hesitated as expected only for Andromeda to close their gap within a blink, ramming her opened hand upward into his jaw sending the warrior skybound.
She could sense another one approach her, his rapid heart failing to hide his position. He attempts a strike only to miss. The same could not be same for Andromeda's, as she countered with a high low combo strike only to be followed with a low swipe to dismount the warrior off his feet.
One remained, still frozen in his spot. He grasped his sword so hard with fear that blood began to seep through the crevices between his fingers. Andromeda looked at the last remaining combatant.
"There is a point in everyone's life that they must decide how to channel fear. You can either let it consume you, paralyzing your every thought and action, or you can let it fuel you so you will never run from it again. Which one will you be?"
The young man's knees continued to tremble as he contemplated Andromeda's words. She was right. He was afraid of Andromeda. He was afraid of her reputation. Afraid of how she dispatched four Altantean soldiers in a matter of seconds but through that fear, her words did strike something within him. It was only fear. Fear of not knowing what awaited him in this battle - and that bothered him. He was an Atlantean. A trained soldier born to defend Atlantis and yet he quivered like a whimpering child and he questioned himself. He knew who he was and this was not it.
The young warrior locked his knees and elbows, straightening his sword with the action while letting out a roar that made Andromeda proud. He had found himself and decided who he was. How fear would have affected his life as a soldier and an Atlantean.
Andromeda could feel some pride within as he charged at her with his weapon. She refrained from smiling; withholding the pleasure she felt in the battle and faced him as an equal warrior born. He swings and misses. She connects once again in the battle with her gaze. She could see the acceptance of his failed strike within his eyes. He had tried with everything he had and failed, but he had tried like a true warrior. It took nothing more than a blow to his gut, followed by a strike to the back of his head and the young warrior had fallen.
There was a momentary silence only broken by the sound of a slow applause. "That was quite interesting."
"How may I help you, Byrrah?" asked Andromeda. "Or have you just come to watch?"
Byrrah did not like her tone, never did, but he would bear her presence. "You have been summoned to accompany General Argos on a fact finding mission."
"Summoned by whom?"
"Lord Namor himself," Byrrah answered emphatically. "He finds your talents rather useful if the need so arises on this mission."
Andromeda could only smile at the source of the summons. Namor had his own demons of heritage that many questioned and like her, he had conquered them mightily. "All hail the King of Atlantis."
# # # # # # # # # # # #
Hundreds of bodies remained still upon the Pacific Ocean's floor. Hundreds more savagely injured by the attack they had incurred. The Fin could barely feel the left side of his arm, his right side shivering as he grasped his magical cutlass. His face skimmed the surface as he pushed his way through the ground with what strength he had left in his lower extremities. If he was going to die he wanted to see his wife once more.
One of the monsters that invaded Neptunia stepped on his good hand. The creature’s other foot propping the Fin's face to look at him. Slowly the creature's face morphed with teeth and eyes peering down on him. The creature could taste its victory just feet away from him. The Fin was his spoils of battle.
The Fin smirked, "You are one ugly mother--"
The creature yelled a roar which seemed to ripple through him, causing the Fin to cough more blood which scattered upon the water. Its mouth opened wide revealing rows of sharp teeth ready to bite down. The Fin closed his eyes, preparing for the beheading until he was tossed back onto the ocean's surface.
Another creature approached, more humanoid than the others yet deformed none the less. He walked slowly with a cowl wrapped around him with a trident like object pacing his steps. "Spare whatever survivors that survived the onslaught. This was meant as a message for Atlantis."
The creatures did nothing more than listen to the command, their eyes and teeth disappearing into their bodies as they departed. The Fin knew he was lucky to survive but many of his Neptunian comrades did not experience the same luck. He could do nothing more than remain motionless due to his strength departing from him with the battle.
He had lost concept of time, hoping his wife survived the ordeal and would scoop him up in her arms or that he would be awoken from this terrible nightmare. The crushing sensation he experienced from his ribs every time he coughed signaled it wasn't a dream. He waited and waited and there was a moment he thought he was better off dead until a shadowy figured hovered him.
"Hello. I am here to help."
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"Hold! Something Approaches!" the blue skinned Andromeda shouted to her contingent with a still fist to halt their march. Her eyes opened widely in disbelief. Her mind rummaged for her next words. She was a battalion commander for the Atlantean army, the daughter of Attuma the warlord, and in all her days had never seen what had begun to approach her.
General Argos, approached Andromeda’s position. "Father Neptune --- What happened here?" He uttered with the same shock Andromeda possessed.
Before the Atlantean battalion approached a swarm of injured Neptunians, each showing wear of a vicious battle. Each barely able to continue in their journey as some showed missing limbs while others aiding the more injured. They were not Atlantean by heritage, but in that moment it did not matter to any of the Atlantean's present. The Neptunians breathed the same waters and they had succumbed to a vicious attack, a merciless showing in which Andromeda doubted if many of the survivors could go any further.
Andromeda summoned a member of her battalion to her with a gesture of a wave. "This exodus is casualties of war. Divide the unit amongst this exodus and begin to assess the casualties and lend aide with what supplies we have, Cirin. I will locate their leader to try to understand what has happened here."
Cirin acknowledged the command, gesturing the battalion to divide ranks as commanded. They moved down the coral structure to move adjacent to the exodus with not so much of a wink toward the Atlantean presence. The Neptunians were beaten both physically and emotionally, and it appeared as if their very souls were not far.
"Who leads this march?" Andromeda asked as she and General Argos approached the front of the Neptunian march.
"That would be me," a battered voice answered from the crowd followed by a salute. "Lieutenant Peter Noble at your service."
Andromeda and General Argos attention instantly fixed on the Lieutenant's pale skin complexion. "You are a surface dweller!"
"Couldn't hide it, huh!" The Fin responded with a chuckle, the signal he received from his ribs still revealing the extent of his injuries.
Andromeda did not find the humor in the Fin's tone. "We can provide your followers with medical aide right here. I am not authorized to do anything further. If you lead me to the direction in which your assailant headed, I can cast vengeance upon them with my blade."
"I doubt your blade will do much," said the Fin. "You and your Atlantean army seem very capable, but this is way more than I believe they can handle."
"What right do you have to question Atlanteans?" General Argos asked with bitter disbelief regarding the Lieutenant's suggestion.
Andromeda laughed at the bravado of both men. "What is it you seek, Lieutenant Noble?"
"We seek asylum in Atlantis," the Fin responded quickly and assertively. The look in his eyes did not question his motives for the safety of his people.
Argos' mannerisms shifted to annoyance by the suggestion. "And how is it you came to this decision?" Argos asked as if he was attempted to hold back any humor he found in the question.
"That would be because of me," a voice spoke up from the crowd. Andromeda and Argos' eyes shifted to gaze upon the source of the voice. The crowd of injured Neptunians shifted to reveal a green skinned female approach. "I am the one that told them to seek aide in Atlantis."
Andromeda's eyes opened wide as the identity of the woman finally hit her. It had been some time, but Andromeda knew that the woman in front of her was an Atlantean Royal. With such, Andromeda and Argos both showed her such respect, for Marrina Smallwood stood before them; chosen queen of Atlantis.
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The gates of Atlantis had opened with the return of their battalion but also with the swarm of injured Neptunians by their side. Many Atlanteans looked upon the wounds the Neptunians had sustained. Some had mangled limbs, some carrying their comrades that couldn't survive the trek. Though many resident to the city looked upon the swarm with sympathy in their eyes, it was not a consensus emotion felt by all.
"Andromeda!" Hollered Byrrah, as he stormed down the stairway of the Atlantean perimeter wall. "What is the meaning of this? You and your troops were sent to investigate a disturbance. You have no authority to bring anyone to our gates."
"Hold your tongue Byrrah!" The fiery warrior-woman responded as she dismounted from her chariot. "It was not my call to bring these survivors here. I was under authority to do so."
"Authority?" Byrrah questioned. "By whom?"
"By me, Byrrah."
Byrrah's eyes enlarged by the source of the voice and within a second he and many other Atlanteans bowed to a knee. Byrrah especially choked slightly at the name that would roll off his lips. It seemed like another lifetime ago that he had married his cousin Namor, ruler of Atlantis, to this woman. "Lady Marrina."
"Arise, Byrrah," Marrina said the name softly. "The people of Neptunia need Atlantis help. Some armada has destroyed their city and I come here to plea to Namor."
"Why plea to the ruler of Atlantis, the avenging son, when all you had to do was ask, Marrina?" A familiar voice boomed from the hall corridor shadows. It was that of the nation's king. The booming voice of Atlantis ruler seemed to have enveloped the entire underwater city. The guards once again bowed in reverence as the King of Atlantis had appeared.
Namor had arrived.
"All hail the first monarch of Atlantis! All hail, Namor!" The Atlantean contingent shouted.
Namor had a devilish grin that only Marrina could see as every other Atlantean fixed their gaze to the surface. Namor stood there for a moment casting his gaze upon his wife he once thought lost.
Marrina returned the gaze as she peered into his eyes. She instantly noticed the crown which dawned his head which he had fought many times to reclaim. A crimson cloak draped over his shoulders concealed all but his chiseled chest.
"Namor, these people need your help."
"Why is it that you intercede for my help, Marrina?" Namor asked, moving closer to Marrina until he could be heard with a whisper. "For if you shall still want it, Neptunia shall have our help--- together as rulers of Atlantis."
Marrina felt shamed. It had been months since she had been back amongst the living from her false sleep but this was the first time she had sought Namor, her husband. "I...I am not...I have been gone for so long," she uttered.
"It was not your fault," Namor said, cutting her off from expressing her guilt. "For my burden runs deep too, as it was I who had to plunge the Ebony Blade into your belly in your fury. I have not forgotten that day, and I swear I will make the cause of our suffering suffer from my own hands. Have me Marrina and we shall rule Atlantis together."
Marrina nodded with approval as Namor returned it with a smile. There love reconnecting as if it had never been broken. "The people of Neptunia need our help, Namor."
"As you know, I can hear a school of fish change direction half an ocean away. When the currents in the deepest part of the ocean alter even a single degree I know it. Nothing that happens under the waters of my realm happens without me knowing. An attack has challenged the sovereignty of Atlantis and this transgression shall be paid in full. So says Namor, the First Avenging Son."
"All hail the first monarch of Atlantis! All hail, Namor!"
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Author’s Note:
Here it is! The first issue of Namor. I would like to thank David Golightly for allowing me to kick the tires off and continue the series. I feel very happy to have written it and hope many more follow. I wanted to get this out before I got too busy with stuff. I changed some stuff around with the birth of my fourth child a month and changed it again within the month once I heard the news was grandmother had fallen ill. I’m off to see her since they say she is not doing well and I may change a few things here and there while also sticking to the script. I had a lot of emotion built up and it just made me want to express it with certain characters that struck a chord with me. She lives on a small island in the Pacific in which you can walk miles on out once low tide hits and it is so glorious. Hopefully I get more inspiration for the series once I get back. This one is dedicated to you Nana.