Mera was a fierce opponent, even on land, where she was meant to be weaker. But Diana could feel her pressing down on her, pushing her inch by minuscule inch. Of course, Diana was no pushover herself. And definitely had a trick or two up her sleeves.

Deciding that this would be an unexpected move, she released her muscles so that Mera all but toppled on top of her. As agilely as ever, Diana back-flipped out of the way while Mera's pretty little face ate sand. Diana couldn't help from smirking.

Once she caught her footing, she jumped high into the air and prepared her fist to hit the back of Mera's head. But then she realized that she wasn't coming down: she was still suspended in the air. Instinct.

Mera was able to pull herself up and looked up at the air, where Diana was floating feet above her. And she laughed that taunting laugh of hers before she too jumped and grabbed Diana by the ankle.

"I can help you," she said, grinning in a way that made Diana want to rip her mouth out.

Before she knew it, she was careening towards the beach. But she actually managed to control her ability to fly-this had been happening quite often recently-and glided past the sand and up into the air. She looked over her shoulder and gravity had already pulled Mera back down to the beach. Mera was glaring at her, her teeth grinding against each other, and her eyes filled with murder. Diana ignored her and made little loopty loops in the air above her.

If she had been about fifteen years younger than her twenty-five, she may have stuck out her tongue.

Mera then focused her gaze at the cool, blue water that washed upon the shore and, instead of crashing onto the beach, it rose high into the air, hardened and wrapped around Diana, pulling her back down onto the shore. It squeezed her, but Diana knew better than to scream when facing Mera.

"Enough!"

The water softened-now drenching Diana-and she sprang to her feet and walked towards Atlanna, who was seated on a large rock, looking as beautiful and regal as ever. Atlanna's feet were submerged in the blue water and she wore a long, flowing, white dress and her white hair fell almost all the way down to the water: she'd likely never cut it. And she was gripping a large, golden staff. She was never seen without it.

Atlanna turned her blue eyes on Mera and then on Diana before she said,

"Why did you fly? You two were meant to be sparring."

"I know," responded Diana, folding her arms across her chest, "but I couldn't help it."

"You couldn't help it the first time," spat Mera, putting her hands on her hips and rolling her eyes in Diana's general direction. "You humans have no honor."

"You're no better, Mera," said Atlanna, now focusing her gaze on Mera. "You practiced your powers too."

"Only because she started it," said Mera. But when she saw the steely expression on the older woman's face, she cast her eyes down to the sand and clasped her hands in front of her. "Apologies, My Queen."

Atlanna rose and removed some of Mera's long, red hair, tucking it behind an ear. "No need to apologize, Mera. In battle your ability to control water would come in handy. You shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"Though you are lucky Queen Atlanna interrupted when she did," said Diana, levitating off of the beach and turning around, headed towards her lodgings. "I would have broken out of your water's grasp eventually. And there would have been hell to pay, of that I'm one hundred and ten percent sure."

"You-"

But Diana had already picked up the pace of her flying, heading towards the other side of the island, to the crumbling castle she'd been living in for the past two years. She could hear Mera-who had now switched back to her native Atlantean tongue-running behind her and spitting curses at her. Diana was glad that she hadn't learnt all of the language, because she didn't understand most of the insults. But it did bring her more than a little joy that she got under Mera's skin.

Though she couldn't for sure say that she would have actually been able to get out of the hard water's grasp.

Eventually Diana landed and found herself wandering the vast corridors of the old castle. How it had been able to withstand the test of time baffled her. But it had. And she'd been living in this old, drafty place for two years. Though fortunately she was not alone.

She got to the kitchen and the menfolk were busy cooking fish. Of course, there was no stove, so they were cooking the fish over an open flame. Diana couldn't help from smiling as three of the people she'd grown to depend on so much over the last two years gave her warm looks and waved her into the kitchen.

Steven had grown used to the knee-length schenti that he'd been given to wear. It was essentially an elaborately draped skirt. And where they came from, nobody wore skirts. But Diana liked the view of his upper body: muscled, chiseled. Steve had been in the military and he definitely had the body to show it. Diana had often seen him working out while they had been on the island and he'd maintained the body that he'd had when they'd met. His blonde hair had grown considerably-almost to his shoulders now-but it did suit him.

Next to him was Tom, who was 'supervising' the cooking. He was seated on a stool, his arms wrapped across his exposed chest. Tom was a middle-aged, still very handsome man from America as well. He'd been stranded on the island for years, though he didn't quite see it that way, what with his wife and son being there with him.

Said son made up the third member of the cooking party, Arthur. Arthur had the best features of both of his parents: he had his mother's striking white-blonde hair and his father's piercing, sky-blue eyes. He was handsome in an unreal way and Diana imagined that, had he grown up in his father's world, he would have become some kind of actor or model or something. He was too beautiful not to be.

"Diana!" said Steven and Arthur in unison.

"Just in time for dinner," said Tom, passing Steven a bowl.

Diana felt the urge to complain-fish again-but that was pretty much all they ever had to eat. The island wasn't replete with lots of animals. None, really. There was plant life. But outside of that, their only resource was fish. Diana had gone from eating at four star restaurants and ordering room service at some of the best hotels on the planet to eating the same meals every single day of life for two years. And she absolutely hated it.

"I was able to control my flying today," said Diana, floating above the ground and gliding around the kitchen. "I think really soon I'll be able to fly us out of here, Steven."

"Hm," he said, putting some fish broth into the bowl he'd gotten from Tom.

Diana had been trying to control her ability to fly for as long as they'd been on the island. She'd been able to do it a little before-that's how she was able to save herself and Steven from the plane explosion-but that had been barely. It had gotten better, though, and Diana thought that any day now she would have enough control to fly herself and Steven back to the real world.

Steven handed her bowl to Arthur, who put a spoon in it and passed it to Diana as he said, "I know you can do it, Diana. You can do anything you put your mind to."

"She's an Amazon, after all. And not just any Amazon: a daughter of Hippolyte, the first Queen of the Amazons," said Atlanna, gliding into the kitchen, her elbows connected with Mera's.

Diana hadn't believed any of the stories for most of her life: that the first Queen of Themyscira had amazing strength, speed, the ability to fly. That she had lifted an island away from the shores of Greece and far out into the ocean-too far for most men to venture to-and had carried it and a tribe of women and a few men loyal to them on her back. And that's how her country had been founded.

Diana had heard grumblings over the years, of what scientists had been calling Metahumans-people capable of doing extraordinary things. One study said that under extreme emotional stress the metagene seems to activate. And the engine of Diana's plane exploding was as emotionally stressful as a situation can be. She'd never been able to fly or left a man as heavy as Steven before.

But she was able to do it that day. And they'd crashed onto the island. And had been there ever since.

Was her ancestor one of the first metahumans?

Diana had, therefore, made it her mission to learn how to control her ability to fly. That was the only way to get herself and Steven back home. The Atlanteans like Atlanna, Mera and Arthur could swim at supersonic speeds. But Steven's body couldn't withstand that. And Diana wasn't sure that hers could either.

So the only way was to fly them back to Western civilization.

"I think she should try to leave now," said Mera, picking up some fruit that had been left on the table. She took a bite and smiled at Diana. "The sooner, the better."

"Why did you bother teaching this girl how to speak English?" asked Diana of Tom.

Tom nervously chuckled and gave his wife a look before he had Steven serve him some fish broth.

"I think you're ready, Diana," said Atlanna, getting a bowl of broth. "I think you've been ready for some time."

"But kicking Mera's ass has been so fun I haven't wanted to leave."

"I know you want to go, but is it selfish of me that I kind of don't want you to?" asked Arthur, frowning just a little. "I've never had human friends before. And I'm half-human. I should have twice as many friends, shouldn't I?"

"And if you lead with the Prince of Atlantis thing, I kid you not, you'd never have a shortage of friends," said Steven.

"He could never tell people where he's from," said Mera. "Atlantis is a hidden place for a reason. You humans destroy everything you touch. Atlantis won't be next."

"Mera, I'm half human and I think you should remember that!" scolded Arthur. "My father is a human!"

Mera's fair cheeks went a ghastly shade of crimson and she stormed out of the room. Nobody went after her.

Mera and Arthur had been childhood friends-both members of the Atlantean upper classes-but Mera had some anti-human sentiments in her. And Diana had the sneaky suspicion that she wasn't the only one. Once or twice Tom had let it slip that the Atlanteans had more than a passing problem with the fact that the crown was to pass to a halfling like Arthur-not even an Atlantean name.

Arthur had spent the last twenty-seven years of his life shuffling between Atlantis, deep under the sea near the island, and the island, where his father had been living for all of Arthur's life. He'd never ventured into the outside world. And he'd been so curious when Diana and Steve arrived. They were surface dwellers close to his age.

"Maybe when you fly, I should swim and follow you," said Arthur, beaming from ear to ear. "Spend a little time in the human world."

"Absolutely not," said Atlanna, waving her hand. "I won't allow it. You're a Prince of Atlantis. You don't get to just go wherever you want."

Diana couldn't help from cracking a smile: even sea-dwelling mother's laid down the law. Diana's own mom wasn't that different from Atlanna, all things considered.

"I don't think it's a half-bad idea," offered Tom. "For a long time I was the only human he'd ever interacted with. And it isn't fair to his human side-"

"I won't hear another word," said Atlanna, waving her staff. "Arthur will remain on the island or under the sea. But he will not go out into the wider world. Everything he needs is right here. He has his family. He has his duties."

"Can we just eat? I'm tired of this conversation," mumbled Arthur.

"Do you really think she's ready to fly us home, Queen Atlanna?" asked Steven, looking at Diana quizzically.

The Queen nodded. "I'm sure of it. Diana, I think you can fly as soon as tomorrow."

"I...I...I..."

Diana felt her heart beating out of her chest. She felt a headache coming on. She felt her stomach doing somersaults. Was she ready? Had she been the one holding herself back, like the Queen had suggested? Could she really carry Steven all the way home?

Feeling completely overwhelmed, Diana placed her plate down and ran out of the room.