A/N: A story that's completely canon-compliant, until canon proves otherwise!
It's also Interning-compliant. ;)
The sea is cold.
He's not sure when the thought occurs to him, nor how long he's been standing in the surf. Long enough to turn his feet blue.
Drenched robes flapping, he leaps back to dry -equally cold- sand. No amount of stamping fixes the cold limbs, so he turns to his companion.
But… there's nobody. Odd, he could have sworn there was somebody with him. He can't think of who, though. Closing his eyes conjures a vague image of glowing green eyes and the light touch on his forehead, then the thought is gone.
He opens his eyes and surveys the empty beach with disinterest. Eventually, he spots a shack past the shore, so he makes his way there.
It's his home. The knowledge is there, even if he has no memory of the room beyond the door. The small room is sparsely furnished with a stool and table. Papers, several inkwells, and quills cover the table. A crate in the corner holds clay jars, and he knows somehow that the jars hold food.
He grumbles at the sand he trails across the floor on his way to the one other room. The tiny bedroom has his hammock and dry robes. His name is carved in the wall above the hammock, confirming his odd knowledge of the place.
Not long after, he leaves the shack, worn fishing rod in hand. He walks to the shore without a backward glance, sits down, and proceeds to catch his dinner.
He is alone still, and he doesn't think it's strange.
Beyond the shores is a rocky beach leading to rocky fields. He doesn't wander far. He doesn't need to. All he needs is on the shore and pages in his shack.
The pages tell a history, a story of a great people lost to the sea. He reads the stories over and over. Every now and again, he adds stories of which he has no memory, yet the quill moves easily in his hand.
Odd, but no stranger than his missing companion.
When the earthquake first hits, he doesn't care. He goes to the shore to fish as usual.
He stares at the huge, scaly head glaring from the surface, then stands. He returns quietly to his shack, relying on his stores until a second earthquake hides the creature again.
It takes him time to understand the pattern, but it's there. Every forty years, there is an earthquake, then the creature. Then, a second earthquake, and no creature. Every forty years, he says out of the water and watches.
The creature has green, glowing eyes.
His robes are rags when he first sees another human.
The strangers, dressed in furs and holding spears, seem confused by him. Five in number, they speak loudly and gesture much, eventually leading him to realize they are asking who he is and where the others are.
His response is a shrug. He offers them fish, and his easy manner calms them.
In time, he learns their language. They don't learn his, but it isn't their fault.
He has no knowledge of speaking his language.
More of the strangers come. Marveling at his shack and hammock, the people mimic him until a small village lives happily on the rocky shores.
Hunters catch meat further inland, and he gets new clothes for the first time in his memory. The people teach him as much as he teaches them his strange ways.
Before long, he forgets he was ever alone.
In time, though, he wonders. Wonders when the little babes get bigger and older until they have beards as long and white as his. Wonders when these elders grow weaker and weaker, then die. Wonders as three generations pass, and he never grows weaker.
Odd, and he has to wonder.
Five generations have passed since the first strangers waved their spears at him. Five generations of friendship and learning. Five generations of watching the babes grow old.
One month since the sickness struck the village, dropping even the strongest of the hunters. He cared for them, every babe and elder, watching them fade.
Some of them whispered their thanks, thinking him to be an old god come to watch over them. Some of them pleaded for him to heal him, thinking him to have such power. Some only stared at him with a smile, simply content in his company.
Now, standing over a fresh grave, he is alone again.
Now, he wishes to no longer be alone.
The papers fell apart ages ago, but the stories return to his mind when he finds himself alone. He hadn't thought of the stories for ages, lacking a way to convey some of the stranger concepts. He never tried, thinking the stories to be just that: stories.
Standing on the shore, a new story on his mind, he wonders. The empty shacks before him bring to surface a memory of stone buildings, devoid of life.
And he cries. Cries for his little village of hunters, mothers, elders, children, and babes too young. Cries for the stone village in his mind, somehow knowing a terrible fate befell this village, too, was emptied before their time.
He hides when new ships come to shore. The pain has barely faded, and he doesn't want to go through it again.
It works, for a time. With no reason to suspect his presence, the newcomers don't search. They raise their tents and hunt and fish in the abandoned shore. The man hides and trusts he will remain alone.
Then came Inuk.
The curious boy spots him and tracks him to his cave. The boy speaks a painfully familiar tongue, asking why the man is alone.
For a time, the man is silent. He goes about his business, hoping the boy will leave him alone.
Eventually, the boy leaves with a promise to return. And return he does, day after day.
Always moving, rarely silent, the boy follows the man as he goes about his day. The boy always comes alone and sometimes with gifts of food or treasures from the shores.
The man never says a word and scowls often, but he doesn't leave so Inuk can't find him. He often sits facing the door, greeting the boy with a frown that only prompts Inuk's cheerfulness.
Finally, one day, Inuk's chatter is stopped by a worn hand dropping onto his black hair. Inuk looks up, suddenly quiet, afraid he's angered the strange man.
Instead, the man is smiling. His blue eyes crinkle in friendliness.
Inuk's smile spreads, and his chatter resumes tenfold.
The man is too busy marveling at Inuk's bright brown eyes and childish view of the world, he forgets the forty year mark.
The day after his smile, Inuk doesn't come.
The man waits, curious and patient for his little friend. When he does leave the cave, it's at a slow pace and his eyes search for Inuk.
He finds himself at the top of a cliff, and that's when he sees it.
The creature has returned. It swims back-and-forth, watching the shore, where the village has gathered.
The man doesn't move. Not when some of the villagers step into the water. Not when boats are dragged toward the water. Not when fishing spears are gathered.
Not until he sees Inuk leap into the foremost boat does he move.
The man makes quite a sight, he's sure. Rags flapping around his thin frame, beard wild, and near howling in warning.
"Stay out of the water! Stay out of the water!"
Inuk -bright, trusting Inuk- takes up his cry and leaps into the surf to push the boat back onto shore. The man pushes past stunned villagers and aids Inuk before turning and again issuing his warning.
"Stay out of the water."
Inuk looks out. Before long, he's jumping and pointing, excited shouts of a "dragon" drawing the attention of his people, who have slowly been realizing the stranger in their midst.
The creature is far from shore, but watching. It's eyes glow dangerously, then a massive head lifts from the water and turns away.
Inuk shows the man one of their boats pulled further down the shore. A huge chunk is missing. Jagged marks make it clear what caused the damage.
Inuk stares at the giant bite mark. When he lifts his eyes, the man doesn't see fear. Instead, Inuk is full of wonder.
He doesn't want to stay, but Inuk insists. So he does.
He doesn't speak much, doesn't tell his story. The villagers are curious, but he did save them from the dragon and he speaks their language.
Again, the man falls in love with a new village. These people are bold and strong, and have medicines when they fall ill. They are friendly and sharing, allowing this stranger into their midst with little fanfare.
And there's Inuk. Cheerful, curious, Inuk. The boy carries stories everywhere, and it doesn't take long for the man to see Inuk is a sort of historian for his village.
Inuk traces his family's roots back many, many generations. There's an odd gap, the man discovers, though. Inuk explains of a group of his ancestors who left to find a new home.
In exchange for Inuk's stories, the man shows Inuk ancient carvings in his cave home. The boy is still for the first time as he looks from the carvings, to the man, then back.
The gap is filled, and Inuk first wonders who the man is.
The man thought he'd learned his lesson, but he sticks around. He watches Inuk grow taller and stronger. When he's no longer a boy, Inuk wants more.
Two men leave the shore, searching. They return thirty years later, the day before the dragon returns. They are full of new stories and histories.
Inuk has awakened a thirst for more knowledge in him. The pair travel frequently to other villages, hunting for stories and secrets.
The man could have gone on forever, his desire to learn insatiable. But when they return to the village for the dragon's third appearance in Inuk's life, the man looks at his companion and knows there will be no more searching with him.
It's in Inuk's tent that he tells his story.
The village of Inuk's ancestors is revealed first. Their first appearance and slow friendship. The things they taught him. The families he met. The sickness wiping them out.
Next is the tale of the shore and the man alone. There isn't much to say, yet it's hours before this tale ends. The man was alone, but he did and remembered much.
The tales pause, both men knowing there is more.
The final tale is the story of the stone village. Never has the man discussed the stone village, half-thinking it to not be real.
But it is. In their travels through Inuk's life, they have seen carvings, runes in a language the man only ever saw in his pages all those years ago. The stone village is real.
Or, it was.
It's a tale of kings and queens. A tale of wonder, for the village was full of magic and mysteries the man has lost in those gaps of memory. A tale of innocence and wonder.
It's a tale of treachery. A tale of humans with a monster's mind and innocent monsters dragged into a war they never wanted.
It's a tale of green-eyed creatures sweeping hundreds away from the war, but leaving thousands to the fight.
It's a tale of loss and pain.
The man wishes to forget again, but Inuk won't let him forget the stone village.
"There's a history," he insists. "The tale isn't complete yet."
Later, the man stands on the shore and watches the green-eyed creature in the ocean. He doesn't know if he wants to discover the end of the tale.
But he's made a promise he can't break. He will find out what happened to the stone village. Find the connection to himself.
It is on Inuk's final night that the Guardian Order is formed.
Inuk is buried outside the man's cave, where he'd spent many hours as a child watching the man work. The ground holds many memories. Too many memories.
The man rises slowly, weary in a way he's never felt. He fetches his and Inuk's boat, then sets off alone.
He made a promise to Inuk. As a friend and Guardian, he cannot fail, even if it takes another thousand years.
It takes longer. Much longer.
Oceans, seas, and rivers, the man's traveled them all. Villages, towns, and cities, he's watched them change. He's walked deserts, mountains, and deserts.
What he finds is bloodlines. He finds where Inuk's ancestors split to go inland, where forests replace ice and sand replaces snow. Where stone monuments are built for homes, instead of the tents the descendants of Inuk's people still live.
Eventually, he finds familiar bloodlines. The names are familiar, miraculous in surviving for so long.
He finds the Nekton and Benthos bloodlines.
The Nektons bloodline is on every continent, but diluted to near extinction. So eager is the Nekton line to explore, they've lost their origins.
The Benthos line, however, is concentrated and strong. They still carry stories and traditions.
Deciding the Benthos line holds the best answers, the man spends much time with them. It is through them that he finally learns the name of the stone village: Lemuria.
Lemuria had magic. Real magic, not tricks of light or sleight of hand.
The man knows this because he has seen it. The Benthos bloodline, as pure Lemurian as any that remain, is proof.
There's little magic left anymore. A few of the elders can lift small objects and youngsters often cause objects to glow in their excitement. The magic is small and fading, but there.
The man, admittedly, is proof in himself. For only magic could have sustained him for so long in life. But, the magic of his long life has been lost to time.
He suspects that the mystery of the magic within him is the only reason the Benthos family allows him to stay.
Every forty years, he returns to his cave. He's been many places, but his cave always feels like his home. He returns long enough to warn people out of the water, observe the dragon, then he's gone again.
He's seen many people come and go. Sometimes the people leave by choice, sometimes a sickness or fighting wipes them out. It's almost amusing when people come to uncover the history of his shore, unaware of the man's knowledge.
Less amusing is when Inuk's grave is uncovered.
The man is eventually placated from his anger when he learns these latest strangers only want to learn about the past. Because Inuk would want exactly that, the man does not interfere with the research.
He does, however, provide Inuk's name. He won't allow his friend to be forgotten, as he himself had become.
The Benthos line is failing.
He doesn't want to admit it at first, but it's become clear over the last couple generations. Sickness and disinterest tears away at the ancient line.
In desperation, the man gathers any of the Lemurian bloodline he can trace. Benthos, Pelagos, and Nautikos are gathered and offered Guardianship. Disappointingly few accept, but he will take all he can.
The Nekton line is a lost cause. They've gone so long without any knowledge of Lemuria, they think it's a myth. Rather than explain everything the other Guardians have been studying for years, the man doesn't approach them.
He does watch them, however.
Even with the Guardians, the mysteries of Lemuria remain shrouded to him. Scrolls and stories only tell so much, and the man knows there is something he's missing.
It's on one of his visits home that he meets the Nektons again. He'd largely been ignoring the Nekton line by then, desperately trying to keep the current Guardians going.
Their names are Thomas, Kat, and William Nekton. William is only four, but he has an awe in his eyes for the ocean.
Despite himself, the man grows close with the trio over a matter of days. Unlike most, this family wants to see the dragon making it's usual visit. There is such longing in them to understand, the man agrees.
Never could he have guessed the results of the bond.
While he keeps track of the family, the man doesn't attempt contact after the dragon returns to its lair. Like all Nektons before them, they are gone in search for more before they can see what is clearly before them.
The dragon is intriguing, yes, but Benthos histories suggest there is more to the creature. It hides some secret, one the man is confident will lead to Lemuria.
It's only fitting that a Benthos uncovers the secret, so the man returns to the Guardians. He takes one of the two remaining Benthos -the rest lost to sickness, like so many of Lemurian blood, it seems- under his wing.
Alpheus Benthos is young and bright. The man trusts he will make an amazing Guardian, and grooms the boy to be his successor.
As future leader of the Guardians, nothing remains hidden from Alpheus. Every tidbit, hint, clue, and half-remembered tale is his for the taking. They explore the site of carvings and ruins, digging deeper into the mystery of Lemuria than ever before.
Too late, the man realizes his mistake.
Alpheus is eager to find Lemuria, but not for his lost ancestors' stories. He wants the power in the lost city.
Unable to let the boy do such a thing -something tells the man that the downfall of Lemuria would be the downfall of the world if released- the man ends Alpheus' teaching.
He leaves the boy, unable to risk unknowingly leading Alpheus closer to Lemuria. He leaves the role of leader in the hands of the elder Benthos with strict instructions to not allow Alpheus any closer to the clues of Lemuria, then returns to Greenland.
Leaving turns out to be a mistake as well. In three short years, the number of Guardians has significantly dropped.
He suspects the elder Benthos. Apparently a thirst for power is a Benthos trait, as the new leader carelessly leads the Guardians into danger in his search for more knowledge.
The lonely old man stands at the shore and wonders what he could have done differently. He wonders if it is too late. Most likely. When the Guardians have run out of numbers, he will be the only one remaining who knows or cares about Lemuria.
In a few years, the man supposes, Lemuria will be truly lost. Forever.
In his distraction, the forty-year earthquake catches the man by surprise. He considers leaving the village at the shore alone this time, but a foolish fisherman loses his boat to the creature on the very first night.
With a heavy sigh, the man goes to the village. The people think him a crazy old man because of his seclusion and evenings spend staring out to sea, so he humors them. Even so, he warns the village of the dragon.
This may be the first time they take him seriously.
It's while he's giving belated warnings that a giant submarine arrives. It bears none other than William Nekton, now forty years older and with his family in tow.
The man is surprised to discover William recognizes him, but he's easily distracted. While William searches for more information about the dragon, the man spots the youngest Nekton.
Antaeus Nekton studies the hole in the pier, a parting gift of the dragon. His curious, intent manner painfully reminds the man of another boy, so long ago. The resemblance in even their looks draws the man closer.
The man knows the stories and legends. He knows the bloodlines, strong and weak. He knows Lemurian royalty and the power they hold over the hidden gates of Lemuria.
He's made the mistake once, and he wonders if he dares to try again.
"Hello, Antaeus Nekton."
The words are out before he can stop himself. The boy's honest brown eyes prompt his words on, and he makes a decision on the spot.
This boy is royalty. Distantly and, frankly, Alpheus has a better claim to the throne. But the Nektons are a good family and the man can see goodness in the boy.
Alpheus is still out there, solidly determined to find Lemuria. The Guardians are dying out, but closer to Lemuria than they have been for ages. The man wants to cut all ties to everyone, but he can't bring himself to do so. He wants -no, needs- to see this out to the end, no matter what.
"My name is Nereus."
This was going to be… interesting.
A/N: Inuk did exist. Remains from approximately 4,000 years ago were found in Greenland and named Inuk. I couldn't find where the name came from, but history doesn't say that a crazy old man didn't name him. So.