I had always thought of myself as a peacekeeper. I avoided fights in grade school or comforted those who were in pain. I couldn't ever bring myself to stand over someone who was, as the Atlanteans would consider, "beneath" me. Perhaps that is why I am no longer their king. Our ideals have set us apart, our methods are completely different. Where I look to resolve conflict through negotiation and cooperation, they would seek out more aggressive ways for them to submit. My father always taught me the importance of being compassionate, honest, and above all else respectful. These ideals have helped me shape me into the man I am today. My name is Arthur Curry and I was the King of Atlantis and I was the also known as one of the founding members of the Justice League. They called me "Aquaman" on the surface. But no more. I have left that life behind me and have tried finding one away from conflict. Six months have passed since I put on my orange, scale armor or held the King's trident. And I wonder if I'll ever put it back on again.

Amnesty Bay, Maine-

The streets in the small, coastal town were filled with citizens strolling about the docks with their children. Laughing and cheering as they made their way down the wharf, ice cream cones in hand. Elderly fishermen sat on the edge of the dock, making a seat out of their coolers, which were usually filled with their bait, or their lunch. In the distance, the Amnesty Bay lighthouse stood over watch, closely monitoring the residents of the small town. It stood upon a large rock formation that overlooked the water below. A group of fishermen walked into the bar The Green Mermaid, tired and weary. It looked as if the group of them had been beaten, the looks in their eyes indicating that the day was an utter disaster. They approached the bartender and took their seats at the bar. They slowly plopped themselves down on the stools, adjusting their seats to face the television set in the top corner of the room.

"Rough day, Jason?" the bartender asked, as he was filling up three pints of Guinness. Jason, a man in his late fifties with curly white hair, and a long beard looked up at him with weary eyes.

"There's just nothing out there, Billy. It's like the fish all got up and disappeared. I ain't never seen something like that before," he replied, reaching for a pint of the Guinness that Billy had just poured in front of him. His companions that travelled with him all nodded in agreement, having had no better luck than Jason with the fish.

Arthur sat in the corner of the bar with a glass of water and a plate of fish and chips in front of him. He wore a plaid, flannel shirt to keep out the harsh winds on the dock. Not that the cold bothered him at all, but he wore it to fit in with the other fishermen. He didn't wish for them to realize who he was, everyone knew by now that Arthur Curry was Aquaman. He completed his wardrobe with a pair of old, ragged jeans and hiking boots. He brought the glass of water to his lips, the glass brushing up against his thick, blond beard, his eyes still fixed on the three fishermen at the bar. He reached into his pocket and placed a couple dollar bills on the table and pushed himself out of his seat.

"Thanks, Billy," he said as he walked out of the bar, placing his hands in his pockets and walking out into the street.

He made his way up the steep slope towards the Amnesty Bay lighthouse. He generally took this time to think to himself. Arthur tried his hardest to avoid thoughts about the League or Atlantis, but they would find their way into his mind no matter how hard he tried. It had been months since he took a "leave of absence" from the League, saying that he needed to spend time fixating his attention on Atlantis and didn't have time to be chasing down supervillains and cosmic crises. The light inside the small house connected to the lighthouse was turned on, he figured Mera was there.

He quietly made his way inside the comfortable house, stepping on the balls of his feet to avoid being detected. He saw no sign of Mera, so he tried his best to keep the noise down. He was about half way across the room, when he could sense her presence.

"It's late, Mera, why are you stay up?" he said turning around. She was sitting in a large, green rocking chair, with her arms across her chest, obviously upset about something. She wore an oversized green t-shirt, probably his, covering her lower body.

"Where have you been, Arthur? I tried calling you at least four times today," she said angrily, getting out of her seat and approaching her husband.

"I had things to take care of," he lied, cursing himself knowing she'd see through the lie. Her bright blue eyes studied him, and finally it seemed she had found her answer.

"You were down at the Mermaid today weren't you?" she asked. He looked at her and sighed.

"I needed somewhere to think, today," he explained.

"And a bar is the best you could come up with?" she asked. He took a deep breath trying to think of something she could believe. He was telling the truth, he didn't know what to do now that he had no one to look after. "Look, I understand you're still trying to adjust to life beyond Atlantis, but you need to talk to me. I'm here for you Arthur, we can figure this out faster than you could, drinking away your thoughts at the local bars," she replied, holding his hands. Damn, she did it again. She was right, he was pushing her away.

"I know, Mera, and it's not that I don't appreciate your help, it's just something I think I need to figure out on my own. It's difficult readjusting to a life where I'm not in charge of an entire nation. A nation who clearly don't approve of who I am, or where I come from," he responded. The Atlanteans always looked at him with contempt, knowing that he was half-human, many even claiming that a curse had been set upon him by Kordax. He looked into her eyes and smiled.

"Heck, it's making me forget about the little things, like taking out the trash," he joked. She raised her right eyebrow and smiled back.

"That doesn't get you off the hook," she wrapped her arms around him," just know I'm here, Arthur." He wrapped his own arms around his wife, his hands sliding underneath her long, red hair. He heard a noise coming from the kitchen that sounded like a light humming. He went in to the kitchen to see the television was still on and the local news was on.

"Local authorities are still questioning what could be the cause of this. For those of you just tuning in, local citizens have reported sightings of nearly forty whales that have been found dead on the beaches. Their stomachs having been sliced open. Authorities are on the scene saying that it was caused by whalers, but others believe that it was something else," the anchor said."

"I ain't never seen anything like this before, this ain't no whalers man," one fisherman explained during one of their interviews. Arthur looked at the screen intently, trying to make sense of what was happening to these whales.

"It's been running all evening, did you see the size of those cuts, what could do something like that?" Mera asked. Arthur turned off the television set and looked at Mera.

"I don't know…but I do intend to find out"

Next Chapter 2: Casualties