A/N: Hello! Welcome to my first FanFic!

I have recently began playing Age of Mythology again, and sating my curiosity, I checked to see if there were any fanfics. There were only a couple that I could find, so I decided to change that. The idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while, and I have a few of my own ideas about where I want the story to go, but I am eager to hear what ideas others can come up with :). I don't know about any other sources, but there is never much information given about the characters in-game, so I am going to make it up. Of course, there will be romance, because I can't help myself :P.

But I digress. Please proceed!

Prologue:

Troubled Sleep.

He gripped the hard shaft of his javelin tightly in his hands, dark eyes intent on the creature before him. The two circled each other, careful steps strangely silent on the uneven ground.

In his periphery, he could see figures, man and beast alike, shrouded in an ethereal mist all around them. Misshapen shadows lurked behind them, and beyond, the man knew the sea lay at the base of the cliff combat ground. He could hear the waves crashing against the rocks, smell the bitter salt, feel the wind against his weathered skin.

All that, and because he had been in this very place before. Many times.

Too many times.

His eyes stayed locked with his opponent's own glowing yellow, and the sweet sound of the sea was broken by a low, harsh growling. His adversary's sharp, canine teeth grew visible, as the lips drew upwards in a snarl. The two curved blades the creature held glinted brightly, despite the dim light of the moon above them.

Then, it struck.

The man dove to the side, rolling to avoid the deadly strikes. He heard, and felt the 'shink' as one, or both of the weapons made a sound against his armour. Expertly, he spun to his feet, the wooden pole in his hands held precisely, with a warrior's proficiently, with a veteran's experience…

With a veteren's heavy use. It even held scars of its own. He could feel the marks with his palms, fitting perfectly with callouses they bore.

As the beast came at him again, the growling rising to a roar, the man darted forwards, and at the last moment, crouched low and thrust the bladed end of his javelin straight into the charging fiend's chest. The roar ended abruptly with a snarled bark of surprise and pain. The yellow eyes flickered, then went dark.

The beast, what he knew to be an Anubite, slipped off the end of his weapon when the man stood and pulled away. It fell with a dead thud onto the ground, blades skittering away into the mist.

But before he could even take a breath, the figures around him vanished in simultaneous flashes of light, and a soft, feminine voice spoke, from behind him.

"That looked like Theris."

Caught off guard, the aged warrior whirled around, spear half coming up until he saw the new arrival, the beam of light that always heralded Her entrance just dissipating. Her white armour seemed to shimmer with an inner radiance, as did her pale skin. A small curl of auburn hair trailed out from underneath her gleaming plumed helmet

Athena.

"It has been a long time since you sent him the Underworld, Arkantos," The Goddess said, the blueness of Her eyes taking his breath away even now, after all this time. She gave him a small, quizzical smile, the depth of the question only lying in those azure pools.

"Fighting old battles again?"

Arkantos looked down just in time to see Theris' body vanishing as well. He closed his eyes, weariness washing over him in a near physical ache.

"Yes" he said, his own voice heavy with the tiredness he felt. Not a tangible fatigue, but the weight of all the years, all the battles he had behind him, and all the lives he had extinguished on the way.

The steady gaze of the Goddess before him softened slightly. As the deity of tactical warfare, She knew, perhaps more than anyone else, what he had been through in his many years. And as the Mistress of Justice, She could understand the weight of all the lives he had taken.

"Old enemies," he continued, breaking away from Her gaze as he gestured around him, "I still see them here." As he turned, the mist seemed to clear as a faint light glowed on the unearthly horizon. The moon vanished, as the 'night' quickly dissolved into 'day'. The mist yellowed into whirling flurries of dust.

"You have won more battles for Atlantis than can be counted," Her voice was still gentle and low, stating rather than praising his accomplishments. His mouth twitched slightly at the words.

"Faced no other opponents dared fight."

"That was long ago," he cut in, his voice sounding curter than he'd intended. "Today Atlantis' enemies live only in my dreams."

This time, his mouth twisted in derision in a mix of irony and regret. "I face feeble pirates now".

"Is that what you believe, Atlantian?"

He had no answer for Her. He had been feeling restless as of late, the monotony of his daily life chasing down the marauders in the Mediterranean and the seas around his home island chafing against his warrior's soul. A lifetime spent in service, against powerful rivals and worthy enemies, and he was reduced to chasing down Kamos' cronies. It was the Minotaur himself that Arkantos was after, but the blasted beast had run off to his base, whereabouts still unknown.

He had been pursuing Kamos and the pirates under his command for almost a year, and Arkantos was tired of it. Tired, angry and itching for a change of pace.

Did he want to fight another battle? He already had enough of them to take with him to the Underworld when the Gods finally called him there.

No, he didn't have an answer for the Goddess.

"Atlantis still has enemies," She said then, voice washing away his thoughts live the waves still crashing at the rocks below.

"And you are still the one who will face them."

Eyes narrowed, teeth clenched, he spun around to meet Her gaze again.

"Any who threaten my home, or my family, will soon have a place in my dreams."

The Goddess was not smiling now. Her perfect mouth was stern, stare direct and clear.

"These are enemies unlike any other, Arkantos – do not let your guard down."

The warning was unmistakable; it's meaning, or purpose, not quite so. Arkantos felt a disquieting chill down his back.

"Dark times are coming," She continued, as the mist began to thicken again, masking everything, including the Goddess Herself in a heavy white blanket, "and you are needed."

"Arkantos, awaken…"

"Admiral…sir…"

Arkantos woke abruptly, an ache between his shoulder blades crashing down on his with his return to the waking realm. He winced at the pain in his joints.

He was dreaming too much lately. He wondered if that was a side-effect to age.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the moment, and he saw a crewman leaning down, stance respectful and polite.

"Yes?" he asked.

"We've sighted land of the horizon," the man replied, stepping back as his Commander made to stand, "we should reach Atlantis soon."

Relief hit Arkantos like a fresh breath of air.

Home again at last.

He was a patriotic man, a loyal son of Atlantis, and devout follower of his God. Poseidon had been the Patron of the island for as long as anyone could remember.

But it was not just the sight of his homeland that Arkantos wished for.

Ever since the death of his wife more than 10 years earlier, there was only one person that he wanted to see more than anyone else. The thing he treasured more than anything…

"Excellent. It will be good to see my son Kastor again."

So there it is. Hope you enjoyed it.

Arkantos is probably one of my all-time favourite gaming characters. I hope to do him credit. That being said, I can't wait to start writing Ajax and Amanra.

Please, pretty please review :D.

~~CreatedInFyre7 3.