Poseidonis, Atlantis, The
Scabbard, HQ of the SWORDS of
Atlantis, The private apartments of Arthur Orin
Curry
The edifice was newly quarried stone. But in the way of things in the
sea, its exterior surface was already being adapted as a living place
by the creatures of the sea. The building stood beyond the enclosed
dome of the old city, higher up the hill that Posidonis stood on, out
in the open sea.
Since the fall of Hy-Brasil and the arrival of the million mantan
refugees, the city had expanded beyond the dome rapidly. Many of the
new buildings dedicated to the workings of the Republic were outside
the Dome. There was even talk of removing the dome at some point in the
future. The environs surrounding the Scabbard were filling with
high-end homes and shops.
On the opposite side of the city’s dome, on the downhill side
from Poseidonis, stood the massive tent city of the Hy Brasilian
refugees. Alongside this, stood a smaller enclave of Thiernans with no
city to return home to either. Scattered amidst the refugee populace
were various other folk who had gravitated to the new capital city of
the Atlantean Republic for various reasons.
The Scabbard looked like the hilt of a sword driven deep into the
seabed. The image was apropos. The building went down below the sea
floor many, many sublevels.
The communicator buzzed.
…and buzzed again.
On the third buzz, Arthur slapped his hand against the A on the belt
where it hung over the back of his chair.
“Majesty, this is Moloq,” came the voice from the
communicator. “We have a situation in Canada that requires your
attention.”
***Moloq last appeared in JLU
Aquaman # 15.
“I’ll be there in thirty, Moloq,” Arthur answered,
reaching to cut off the comm. “And Moloq, my name is Arthur or
Orin or Aquaman, if you must. No more Majesty.”
“Yes, Majes…Arthur,” Moloq answered as Arthur tapped
the belt again breaking the connection.
“What is it?” a sultry, sleepy voice asked from the covers
on the other side of the bed.
“I’m not sure,” he answered, pulling on his green
pants and adjusting the fins that ran up his calves. He reached for his
orange scale mail shirt pulling it over his head. “He said
Canada. Could be a fishing dispute…or an Ice Road Trucker fell
through the ice.” He shrugged.
“Will…” he hesitated, glancing back at the bed,
“will you be here when I get back?” he asked as he smoothed
the shirt over his midriff.
She sighed lightly, contentedly, as she shifted in the bed sliding over
to Arthur. Her hand reached out and stroked his back.
He turned to see her blue eyes staring at him. Her disheveled red hair
framed her beautiful face.
“You know I can’t,” Mera said. “The longer I
stay on Earth the more…” she trailed off.
He kissed her tenderly. “I love you,” he said.
She smiled. “I know. If there were a safe way to keep the Earth
water levels from building up in my bloodstream, I would stay,”
she explained.
“I know,” he responded.
“I’d rather not be Crazy
Mera again,” she continued.
He hugged her and they kissed as the blanket fell away from her upper
body.
He stared deep into her eyes as she smiled at him. His eyes trailed
slowly, appreciatively down. His mouth compressed into a fake grim
line. “Moloq doesn’t expect me for another 25
minutes.”
“Good,” she responded.
45 minutes later,
Arthur strode through the door of the Scabbard Control Room, a relaxed
smile on his face, his eyes bright.
He entered the darkened room. Computer terminals and digital displays
provided the room its illumination.
A voice from one of the monitoring stations said, “We have a
dimensional transference in central Poseidonis. Local sensors put it
inside the Scabbard.”
As hands reached for alarms, Aquaman stepped forward. “That came
from my quarters. My wife is returning to her home dimension.”
A moment later, the man at the sensor console said, “Confirmed. 1
transfer to Dimension Aqua.”
Arthur stood looking around the room until he was certain no one was
going to pull the alarm. He was amazed that Atlantis was rushing into
the modern age as quickly as she was. Just six months ago, such a
monitoring station would have seemed impossible and now they were
expanding the net across Atlantis. By the end of the year, they should
have a monitoring system that would protect the people of Atlantis
wherever they may be.
He floated over to Moloq where he sat at the Duty Officer’s
Station of SWORD Command Information Center (CIC).
Moloq punched a few buttons. A map appeared showing a largely barren
island near the northwest shore of Baffin Island, east of Devon Island,
and directly north of the Sirmilik National Park in Canada.
Arthur recognized the area. It was where, in his youth, he had met and
loved Kako, Koryak’s mother. In Aquaman’s mind’s eye,
the past flashed passed. Going ashore, young and stupid…finding
Kako…or rather Kako finding him. Learning to trust her. Trusting
the first surface person, besides his father that he had ever directly
interacted with. Loving her. Until the day that Orm Marius Curry began
their sibling rivalry in earnest attacking Kako’s people. Arthur
had stopped him…at the cost of Orm’s memory, for a while
at least, and Kako’s love for him. He had left the tribe not long
afterward. And a short time later, his first son, Koryak had been born.
***A short retelling of mainstream
Aquaman: Time and Tide (1994). Koryak was first revealed to be
Arthur’s son in mainstream Aquaman, volume 5, #5 (January 1995).
Thoughts of Koryak clamped a cold steel vise around his heart. The
monster of the deep, Leviathan, had taken over Koryak’s body,
irradiated it beyond hope in the Hy-Brasil nuclear explosion and
disappeared. The bastardized monster that survived called itself
Akisaqtuq, the Living Revenge.
What was it Leviathan said in our
last battle? Aquaman thought.
The monster wearing Koryak’s face grinned at him from his memory.
“Koryak isn’t here anymore, father. There is only Leviathan
and Akisaqtuq,” the beast had called as he blasted Aquaman with a
searing green optic blast. “You should be proud. Your son is the
host of Shalako and will be the object of worship throughout the seas.
All the peoples of the sea from Atlantis to Mu to Lemuria, from
Reef’s End to Sharaia and the Cities of Light and Dark, Neos and
D’yss and beyond.”
The rest of Akisaqtuq’s crowing was drowned away in the nuclear
blasts set off by Neron’s thralls, destroying the city of
Hy-Brasil.
***Aquaman faced Akisaqtuq for the
first time in JLU Aquaman #9 and 10.
Moloq continued, breaking Aquaman’s reverie, “The Royal
Canadian Navy’s research submarine Olympus found a radioactive
trace in the Arctic to the northeast of Baffin. They tracked it for 150
miles until it disappeared into the shallows near the Inuit enclave on
Whisper Island.” Moloq shifted in his chair, hitting another key.
The map zeroed in on the island’s north shore. “When the
RCMP contacted the village elders, they were told that an odd looking
tall man with gray skin, covered in seaweed had walked ashore near the
time they were indicating.”
“Koryak?” Aquaman asked.
“Maybe,” Moloq answered carefully, “or that thing
wearing his face and body. How did you know?”
“Koryak was born not far from there,” the former king
responded. “It’s where I met Kako.”
Moloq hit some more switches. “An hour later, the villagers
reported seeing a meteorite streak in from the southwest. Some of them
claimed there was a humanoid form at the center of the fire,”
Moloq trailed off. “The meteorite didn’t strike the ground.
It slowed down and seemed to change course before everyone lost sight
of it…east of the village…near the spot where the man
from the sea disappeared.”
Aquaman nodded. “And when the Canadian authorities became aware
of my connection with this Inupiat
tribe, they contacted us.”
“Yes…but there’s more…”
Whisper Island, Canada,
She flew in wreathed in flame. She hadn’t returned to this area
since her son had decided to go with his father. Corona had been
surprised to receive an ethereal call for help from Koryak. He
hadn’t shown any compunction to seek her out in the intervening
years…though truth be told, after she had gone off with Naiad,
she’d had little truck with any humanity.
Slowing as she passed over her tribe’s summer encampment, she
turned toward the east. She came to a hover on the other side of the
clearing where Koryak sat on a log with a heavy cloak pulled up around
him.
Alighting, she dimmed down the fires that surrounded her. Her eyes took
in the clearing. This was the spot where she had first seen Orin, all
those years ago. He had looked like something out of another world to
her. And to an Inupiat girl who had never been beyond the tribal lands,
he was.
“My son,” she said, approaching, “you called to me?
Come let me see you. Let me see how your father’s kingdom has
suited you?”
Akisaqtuq smiled within his cloak. Slowly, he stood and turned to face
the figure lightly sheathed in flame. “I’m glad you came,
Mother. There is much we need to discuss.”
Corona’s first indication that something was wrong was the hard
emerald fire that glowed in Koryak’s eyes.
A twin green blast of putrescence washed over her, slamming her into a
nearby stand of trees.
Staggering to her feet, Corona stuttered, “You’re not
Koryak.”
“Oh Mother,” Akisaqtuq answered, “I’m
hurt!” He blasted her again as he strode toward her.
After the first blast, her molten body and features cooled
significantly. Black cooling spots appeared all through her body as she
lost heat. The cooling magma spots on the surface of her flesh dropped
off, congealing as they hit the ground. Small fires burst forth in the
dry winter grasses.
Reeling, she raised her hand and let the power of the fire elemental
rise inside her. The fires flamed up growing stronger. The heat
absorbed the cool spots back into her molten demeanor.
Akisaqtuq threw his cloak aside, allowing Koryak’s mother to see
the irradiated horror that her son’s body had become.
Shocked at the emaciated horror that was Koryak, Kako’s attack
faltered momentarily.
In that moment, Akisaqtuq blasted Corona again, knocking her to her
knees. The blitz attack was his only option. Hit her and keep hitting
her, play on the fact that he was attacking her with her son’s
body.
Fire leaped between her fists as she raised them toward her son’s
body, the abode of Akisaqtuq, the Living Revenge…the odd amalgam
of Leviathan and the radiation sickened Koryak.
FA-ZOOM!
She blasted him with waves of fire.
Akisaqtuq raised his hand. A green glow limed his body as he tried to
fend off her attack.
FWOOSH!
Waves of flame surrounded him and ate at his thin green shield of
eldritch energy.
As his precious energy leeched out of him, Koryak’s body shrank
noticeably.
Reaching out, he grabbed at her. Catching her about the shoulders, he
pulled her to him. Biting into her cheek, he drew blood.
Her hand flew to her cheek as she pushed away from him. Shock set in
immediately. Somehow, Aksaqtuq had managed to get to her flesh. This
was the first time her flesh had been anything but molten flame in
years.
He reached to snatch at her again.
Seeing his sharp teeth, she reacted instinctively.
POOF! POOF! POOF! Thin streams
of fire shot from her fingertips, building in intensity by the second.
A torrent of fire built, blasting out of Kako at her son’s body.
The heat and flame created a scorching wall spreading from their
confrontation into the trees and across the clearing, sucking in all
the available fuel.
The conflagration roared forth consuming everything it could touch. A
huge fireball rose skyward occluding the gray cloudy sky.
Exhausted…the ground glowing at her feet, Corona let the flames
die back. The thing that had once been her son lay crumpled on the
ground. His arms raised and stiffened in the pugilistic attitude common
to victims of fire.
Tears of magma rolled down Kako’s face. The molten flaming
façade of her Corona persona faded. Kako appeared from the
flames, bereft of the flames and nude. She leaned against a charred
rock and let the all too human emotions overflow her. She was Corona
non-stop since she and Naiad left Orin following their showdown with
the Deep Six, years ago.
***Aquaman, Naiad, and Corona
faced The Deep Six of Apokolips in mainstream Aquaman #7 – 8.
As the flames died back, she sat and held the charred body of her son
to her.
The Scabbard;
“We got some shots of the area from a Japanese oceanographic
satellite that passed overhead a few minutes ago. The images should be
coming in now,” Moloq said.
He clicked a button bringing up a shot of Whisper Island. The Inuit
encampment sat just back from the water’s edge. To the east of
the settlement, a large scorched circle stood. The edges of the circle
still burned, but the source seemed to have burned itself out.
“Let’s see,” Moloq said, flipping some switches and
typing a command into the keyboard.
Thermal imaging showed an amazing intense heat source near the center
of the circle. The heat source showed as human shaped and seemed to be
holding a much cooler humanoid shape in its arms.
“Tell the Canadians, I’m on my way. I’ll
contact them when I know something,” Arthur said as he shot from
the Scabbard.
Once he cleared Poseidonis proper, he began calming his mind as he
poured on the speed to the North-Northeast. Below him the shanty filled
refugee village lapped around the sides of Poseidonis. Manta people
from Hy-Brasil, Sherhedeen tribesmen, all the various peoples of
far-flung Atlantis come to the capitol to try and make their way in the
new republic.
He had agreed to become one of the SWORD program because of these
people. He needed to be more than a king…former king, he needed
to be every bit the hero that he had always fancied himself. He needed
to be the sharp edge of Atlantis’ protection, pride, and spirit.
As surely as the government needed Vulko to lead, it needed men like
Arthur to take up the fight for Atlantis.
Out over the far outskirts of Poseidonis where it had grown beyond its
protecting walls and domes, he shot at full speed. His mind at peace,
his will focused, he opened himself, reaching out.
He wasn’t keeping in good touch with the JLA, so using the
transporter every time he needed to get around seemed rude.
Reaching out with his telepathy, he felt the Clear come alive around him.
Focusing, he drew it to him. A milky fogginess sprang into being about
him.
He wasn’t sure if this would work or not. But after having Atlan
move him through the Clear from Hy-Brasil to Poseidonis, he thought he
could activate the teleportational aspects of…
***Aquaman was transported through
the Clear previously by the ghost of Old Tom Curry in JLU Aquaman #10.
He felt the temperature and salinity of the water shift about him. He
could hear a different accent in the voices of the sea. He traveled
4,000 miles in the span of a few seconds.
Rising to the surface, he could see Whisper Island to his south. From
this vantage, he could see the smoke rising from the burned circle near
the village.
Whisper Island;
The scorched tableau spread before Arthur as he arrived. The burned
circle spread out for a mile or more in every direction from center.
The skeletal remains of a stand of trees scorched black stood nearby.
Kako’s nude back to him as she leaned forward on her calves. Her
feet pointed back at him. She was rocking slowly backward and forward.
He could see that she was cradling…clutching a figure in her
arms. From the scorched clothing that was still visible on the figure,
he identified the remains as Akisaqtuq…Koryak…their son.
A wary part of his mind admonished him from his subconscious,
“Remains don’t mean that he’s really dead. Especially
with Leviathan within him.”
Kako sobbed. The body of her only son laid there, a charred ruin, and
it was her fault. All her…
“Kako?” A familiar voice asked from behind her.
“Haven’t you done enough?” She responded through her
grief as her features were subsumed into the flaming visage of Corona,
the Earth’s Fire Elemental. She laid Koryak’s body gently
down, rising and turning to face her former lover.
“He went away with you,” she cried as she gestured at the
still smoking flesh at her feet, “and you obviously
couldn’t be bothered to watch out for our son.”
She generated heated thermals in the air to raise her into the sky. She
floated up a few feet off the tundra. “Koryak’s body
won’t be the only one that litters this island.”
Akisaqtuq slitted open his green glowing eyes. He was still alive
inside the smoldering shell. Biting Kako’s cheek and tasting her
blood had given him an in. Mystically, he turned his great will to
enhancing and increasing her rage. He would have his revenge by having
Koryak’s mother kill Koryak’s father. The symmetry of it
appealed to Leviathan’s darkness.
Deep within the trichotomy of Akisaqtuq, the small part that was still
Koryak raged. The part that was the ancient sea god, Leviathan,
laughed. And Akisaqtuq, the horror that had awakened on the melding of
the other two bathed in revenge’s warm glow.
“I took care of Koryak the best I could,” Arthur explained.
Flames coalesced about Corona’s body, subsuming Kako’s
body. A grim set to her mouth as she started at Arthur.
Akisaqtuq’s eyes widened a little as he realized that he
didn’t have to fan her psyche to violence. Corona was going to
attack the Sword of Atlantis without any prodding.
A small groan escaped Akisaqtuq as he realized that the injuries to
this already ravaged body were more than it could take. The putrescent
green light slowly faded from his eyes as the shroud of death took him.
Incredulously, Kako said, “You took care of him…just like
you took care of your other
son.” A wave of flame roared out from Corona’s body,
slashing at Aquaman.
Aquaman dove backward as the flames licked at him, sucking away at his
moisture derived strength.
A fist of flame closed about the King of the Seven Seas and the
mystical strength of Earth’s Fire Elemental bore down squeezing
the life out of him.
“Ah!” Aquaman groaned within the flame. “Ah!” He focused his mind into
his mystical prosthesis. He reached for the powers of the Zodiac-based
Atlantean power crystals that Atlan had formed into his new hand. He
fought to activate the stones.
***The crystals were formed into
his new prosthesis in JLU’s Aquaman #10
A golden stone swam to the surface of his faux hand. A lion’s
head appeared in the center of the crystal.
The golden glow suffused out of Arthur’s hand, first surrounding
his body, and then, flowing outward over and around the chaotic energy
fire. Where the glow touched, the fires froze into stasis.
Arthur released himself from the fires first. He staggered backward,
keeping the energy of the Atlantean power crystal washing out toward
Corona.
At the center of Corona’s glare, Kako cried out. “No! No! You won’t escape me that easily.”
She breathed in deeply. Air seemed to rush toward her from all
directions. Fires went out for 50…100…200…500
miles in every direction.
The Corona body swelled to 50 feet tall. A giant flaming body stood
ready to stamp Aquaman out.
The glow from the Leo stone faded temporarily exhausted. The pale
yellow stone sank away from sight.
Unbidden, a deep turquoise stone of Aquarius rose to the hand’s
surface. A blue beam shot from Arthur’s hand…missing
Corona.
Her roar was the sound of a thousand year old forest burning to a
crisp. The fire giant reached for Aquaman…only to stop short of
drowning Aquaman in flames as she felt the moisture content of the air
shift.
Looking up, she saw a glowing turquoise globe, hundreds of feet across,
full of seawater settle directly overhead.
As she watched, the globe cracked open, egg-like, spilling a few tons
of water down on her head in the space of a few seconds.
…
Silence reigned in this far northern Canadian wilderness.
Aquaman forced himself to stand. Parchment burned skin cracked as he
moved, stabbing pain…the pain of a million ants running along
your nerve endings and all biting down at the same time. The smell of
his burnt hair made him nauseous.
In the distance, he could hear the approach of 3 Royal Canadian Mounted
Police Air Service helicopters.
A half hour later, Kako/Corona lay sedated on a gurney being lifted
into one of those choppers.
Aquaman gave his report to the Canadian authorities. His son and the
monster that had taken his body were both dead.
The Canadian government agreed to let Aquaman bury Koryak here in the
land of his mother. He laid him to rest at the center of the scorch
mark. One of the Mounties assured Arthur that tundra flowers would
claim this empty, burned area next spring. Corona’s scorched
earth would provide a flowery loam for Koryak’s final resting
place.
“Rest in peace, my son,” Arthur murmured quietly.
An hour later, one of the RCMPAS helicopters headed northwest across
the island, taking Arthur out over the sea.
The Prime Minister had wanted to bring Aquaman to the capital to honor
him for his efforts to save the Inupiat village. Arthur begged off,
wanting instead to just return home.
The PM insisted that Arthur, at least, allow the RCMP to give him a
lift part of the way. He acquiesced.
He sat quietly, flexing his prosthetic hand. It felt leaden and
lifeless. Usually the hand felt almost like normal flesh. Either his
unfamiliarity with it or his overuse of the power in the hand caused it
to discharge itself.
The salt sea breeze coming in the helicopters open door soothed him.
His burnt flesh healed at a much-accelerated rate as the sea’s
loving winds touched him.
Aquaman leaned his head back against the chopper’s bulkhead and
let his eyes slit closed.
EPILOGUE 1:
Roughly 12,000 miles southeast of where Aquaman dozed in the
helicopter, near an independent subset city-state called Thorny Crown,
a group of hooded and robed figures stood in a circle within a black
cave. A large design was etched into the rock of the cave’s
floor. The design resembled a whale with a hundred squid tentacles
instead of a tail. An ancient unknown language was scrolled around the
design.
A cage sat in the center of the design. Within the cage, sat a scared
little girl, wanting to go home, wanting her mom and dad, terrified of
the robed people.
The penitents stepped forward in unison. No sounds came from them
except the shuffling of their feet and the light sound of water moving
through their clothing.
As one, their arms rose. Their hands rose pointing toward the distant
surface. Their hands held short rune carved blades. The runes matched
the language from the floor design. Their free hands emerged from the
long sleeves of their robes and stretched out toward the cage.
Through her fear the girl noted that her captors were a mixture of
undersea humanoid life….2 mantoid Hy-Brasillians, 3 octopoid
Neosians, a Tritonian merperson, 4 humanoid Atlanteans, and a
shark-finned merperson of the Sher’Hedeen.
In lock step, they all laid their blades to their exposed arms and cut
deeply letting their blood flow. Holding their bleeding arms out over
the cage, they allowed their blood to permeate the girl’s cage.
She choked at the cloying scent and stickiness of the blood.
The water of the cave became dark with their blood as one by one they
succumbed, dying from their blood loss.
The little girl’s shock gave way to screaming as she saw the last
of her jailers’ die and felt something move in the
cave…something that hadn’t been there a moment before.
A few moments later, the screaming subsided.
She blinked her eyes as the woven ropes holding her cage parted,
setting her free.
She blinked again and smiled…as her eyes began to glow an unholy
green.
EPILOGUE 2: The Palace Hotel; San Francisco, CA;
A very private party was underway at the pool. The vaulted glass
ceiling showed the stars of a beautiful night. The hotel had provided a
bartender, a lifeguard, and 2 butlers. Of the 4, the bartender and
lifeguard were rolling with the party. The butlers…classically
trained…British…shocked to the roots of their hair.
The party’s host was a foreign born aristocrat. His voice sounded
French, but the man wasn’t. One of the butlers, before the party,
had glanced at the registry info in an attempt to better serve the
guest. The host’s passport information didn’t list a
country of origin…in its place was a United Nations emblem.
The man’s hair fell in long ringlets reminiscent of Robert
Plant’s coiffure from Led Zeppelin’s heyday…only in
auburn instead of blonde.
The party’s only guests in addition to the host were
models…20 of them…all female…all scantily or
barely clad as they frolicked around the heated lap pool…some
swimming…some drinking…some trying to compete for their
mysterious host’s attention.
“Mr. Orion? Mr. Orion? Watch me!” called one shorthaired
blonde standing on the 10-meter diving board. Topless, supple, she
stood there. The subtle pool lighting casting her beautifully as God
and some plastic surgeon had cast her.
Feeling all the eyes turn to her, she smiled her perfect smile.
“Only for you, Mr. Orion,” she said, slipping her thong off
and sending it sailing out toward the host.
She stepped to the edge of the board and dove. Her double somersault
would have made an Olympian proud as she clove the water with hardly a
splash.
By the time she made her way to the pool’s edge, half the models
in attendance had shed their bikini bottoms, stealing her thunder.
All around where the man sat, the women vied for his attention.
“Mr. Orion?”
“Mr. Orion?”
“Mr. Orion?” The numerous guests chorused.
“Mr. Arion, your cognac, sir,” the butler’s upper
crust accent offered as he reached through the throng of naked women
with the drink on a silver tray.
Arion acknowledged the butler with a tip of head as he reached for the
drink. “Thank you, Jeeves.”
“It’s Cartdale, sir,” the butler corrected.
Arion nodded, raising a finger to his forehead in salute. “Thank
you, Cartdale.”
“Now, then, ladies, I…,” Arion trailed off. He
stared off to the northeast. A million mile stare…like he was
staring through the walls of the hotel. “…the crystals.
I…”
He trailed off again when he realized that everyone was watching him.
“Cartdale?” he called.
“Yes, sir,” the butler responded.
“See that all these ladies either get a ride home or have a room
for the night. Put it on my tab. Give yourself and the rest of the
staff a generous tip,” Arion said.
“As you wish, sir,” Cartdale responded.
Arion stood from his lounger. Stepping away from the covey of beautiful
women surrounding him, he threw off his poolside robe. Much to the
disappointment of those present, he was fully dressed underneath.
Though a few of them were certain that he had been naked underneath the
robe just a moment before.
A blue archaic style costume and a long flowing cape marked his style.
Beginning below the shoulders, his blue shirt had chain mail woven
through the fabric. The three quarter sleeves shirt ended in golden
piping with ancient Atlantean script circling his arms upon it. The
cape blue on the outside and a rich red beneath swirled about him. A
large red gemstone hung in the center of his chest. Golden pads of
quilted armor covered his shoulders. A gold belt with circular designs
shot through rounded his waist. And tall brown riding boots covered his
feet and lower legs. His hair fell in auburn ringlets to his shoulders.
The mystical quality of an evening by the Bay seemed a little less so
to those out and about in the city. Arion was forced to siphon magical
energy from outside sources after many years of wielding tremendous
forces. The source for this night’s energy was a source as old as
time…the feeling that humans get when they gaze at the sea mixed
with the romanticism of San Francisco. The energy crackled to him. A
number of people had a slightly less magical visit to the Golden Gate
than would have otherwise happened.
***Arion’s mystical
limitations and description was sourced from mainstream DCU’s
Who’s Who: The Definitive Guide to the DC Universe, Volume 1, #1
(March, 1985).
He gazed up at the moon through the glass ceiling far above. He stood
for a moment straightening his chain mail, pulling it
even…reseating the quilted armor over his shoulders and
straightening the gemstone hanging against his chest.
With a flourish of his hands, he swept his blue cape about. The red
lining haloed his body as he moved. He stepped toward the pool. His
riding boots touched the surface of the water as he walked out onto the
water.
As he approached the center of the pool, he looked back at the shocked
expressions of his party guests.
“Cartdale, tell the Palace management to hold my rooms,” he
commanded.
“As you wish, sir,” came the British accented response from
the middle of the throng of naked and half-naked models.
Arion nodded. His eyes went white with mystic energy. An orange glow
surrounded his clenched fists. Water geysered from the pool to the
glass ceiling. He was hidden from view. When the water settled back
into the pool, slopping at the sides of its concrete
enclosure…he was gone.
