Superman: Mythos #5 "The Dreamers of Naltor"
A streaming ball of flaming light scarred the violet sky. It was as if a star had been plucked forth from the heavens and cast down violently to meet the earth. It was even brighter than the dawning sun before it disappeared beneath the green waves of the sea. Its fire having been put out and reduced to a lingering pyre of smoke over the water. Bela watched it all from the shore.
Soon, unreality began to set in, as it always did. Suddenly, Bela's next breath was devoid of air. Beneath her, the rolling sands of the beach began to consume her feet and legs. She screamed but no sound left her lips. She was up to her waist in sand and her pale face turned a veiny blue. Then, through her rapidly fading sight, she saw a figure emerge from the waves. He was tall and sturdy, his towering figure unshaken by the crashing surf. Bela could not see his face, for her eyes had dipped beneath ground level. Though she managed to tilt her head up and catch a glimpse of his torso as he leaned over the sinkhole. She saw the crimson emblem shimmering across his chest, the iconic S. She'd never seen it before yet somehow it felt all too familiar. Then, he let down his hand and she felt it clasp onto hers just when her vision went completely dark. An eternal second passed before he used his strength to pull her forth from her suffocating demise.
Bela awoke in a cold sweat, sheets and pillows tossed about all across her large silk bed. She jolted up and clutched her chest, rising and falling rapidly with every panting breath. It was then a pair of her loyal handmaidens ran through the door.
"Princess!" They cried. "Are you alright? We heard your cries from down the hall! Shall we fetch your father?"
"What time is it?" Bela replied simply, her voice soft and calm.
"Why, it's nearly dawn break, your highness," One of the handmaidens said, peering through the drapes of the opulent room and looking out upon the dark horizon. Though the blue sky had begun to lighten, preparing for the sun's arrival from beneath the emerald waves.
"Quickly then," Bela began, stepping out of bed and into her thin, elegantly sown, royal nightgown. "To the shore. We must be there when he arrives…"
Meanwhile, in a nearby sector of space, Clark's makeshift rocketship punched its way through the thin atmosphere of the alien red moon. Escaping the surface of his prison world was the easy part, what came next was going to be tricky and require more than a little luck. Once he'd entered open space and cleared the gravitational pull of the moon, he switched off the rocket's thrusters. Not that it much mattered, since upon checking his fuel supply, he saw that it was all nearly burned up. Luckily, gas and oil weren't what was going to get him halfway across the galaxy within a reasonable timeframe. To get back to Earth before the end of the millennia, he'd have to jump his bucket of bolts into light speed.
Clark's hand hovered over a second control panel next to his primary one. Even compared to the sorry state of the main controls, these were even worse. They looked as if they'd been ripped from another, larger ship and welded haphazardly onto this one. That's because they essentially were, with loose wires and exposed computer chips still visible on the 'finished' product.
Clark closed his eyes, and after a quick prayer, he laid his hand down across the control panel and punched in a series of coordinates into its dim, calculator-like, display. With the coordinates mapped, a second engine hummed in the front of the rocket with neon blue light emanating through the seams of its metal plating. A small green bulb then flashed above a lever on the control panel which Clark promptly took hold of. Praying the engine wouldn't stall, he threw the lever down. The engine went silent and Clark sat back in his seat, clutching the steering, with sweat streaming down the sides of his face. He took a deep inhale, but the breath was cut short by a sudden jolt forward.
In less than a blink of an eye, the stars that dotted space around him stretched into long strands of glowing white light. The cockpit itself felt as if it was being warped, rapidly flattening and elongating, as Clark's body was forced against the back of his seat. His vision blurred, the space outside the rocket moving too fast to comprehend. His limbs grew numb and limp, and his hands slipped from the controls. His mind was teetering on a complete blackout as the machinery around him raddled and loosened, nuts and bolts falling to the floor. Clark, his vision nearly devoid of sight, grabbed hold of either side of the rocket, practically keeping it together through his sheer strength alone. Plummeting through light space with little to no protection, Clark felt the burning pain sting across his body like hundreds of gunshots. He let out a fearsome roar, managing to hold the rocket together for a dozen or so more lightyears, but he soon gave way.
Just as Clark lost consciousness, the tip of the rocket began to furl away, followed by the rest of it, peeling away like a flaming metal banana. And as Clark let go of the walls, the cockpit split in two, leaving his limp body to fall out of the light-speed trajectory towards Earth. Despite leaving light-speed, his body was still flung across the entirety of a solar system in a matter of minutes. Soon he began to slow, but not before entering the gravitational pull of a nearby planet whose surface appeared to be lush and green, unlike the red moon from which he'd escaped. And peaking out from behind the curve of the Earth-like planet was the warm, gleaming light of a yellow sun. Like a meteor, his body fell into the atmosphere in a blazing glory. He soon hit the turning green of the ocean and his burning body was put out with a violent splash. There atop the waves, his body floated to the nearby shore.
The first sense to come back was his smell, taking in the salty air and refreshing ocean breeze. After that, he began to feel the cool water falling and rising over his face. Only after those rather pleasant sensations returned to him did he realize he couldn't breathe. He curled forward and hurled up about a liter of seawater out of his lungs before falling back onto the sand, panting. He slowly opened his eyes, having to squint beneath the harsh sun, he noticed a silhouetted figure standing over him. He brought his hand up to block the glare and realized, staring down at him with awe, was a young woman with platinum hair and shimmering silver robes. Circled around her were a dozen or so similarly dressed women, though none were as opulent as the girl closest to him. She soon offered her hand and Clark took it, though he used most of his own strength to lift himself up out of the surf.
The small crowd all gasped and began whispering when the symbol across his chest became discernible to them. Though they seemed to be confused by his overall appearance as he was still bearded, wearing a beastly skin over his shoulders, and more than a little worse for wear.
"Kal-El… Kal-El…" He heard them whisper amongst each other as he limped up the shore, being led by who he presumed to be their leader.
"Y-you-" Clark began, pausing to clear his salty throat. "You know my name?"
The girl beside him clasped his large hand between both of hers. The feel of her soft, pale skin was a welcome change for Clark. "Of course, Kal-El… We have all dreamed of your arrival for generations. How you will usher in a new age for our people. Though none knew exactly when you'd come. Until my dream this very morn…" she said, leading him from the shore and onto a white marble road, her handmaidens trailing along behind them.
"Dreamed of it?" Clark asked, looking further up the road to see a city on a hill sitting upon the horizon. It was like the great city-states of the ancient world with white colonnaded buildings, golden domes, and magnificent temples. Though like the ancient world of Earth, they appeared to be just as technologically advanced. Meaning Clark may still be trapped. Grant it, on a much more tolerable prison planet.
"That's right," the girl continued. "Many of us here on Naltor, mostly the women, are gifted with precognizant abilities. Abilities which only activate upon entering deep sleep, hence, we dream of the future." She paused and turned to Clark just before the gates of the city. "I am Bela Nal, daughter of the High Seer and Princess of Naltor."
"Your highness," Clark said, lowing to bow, but she stopped him and shook her head. Then, all in unison, the women bowed before him instead. Clark managed to smile at their impromptu act of reverence, but it weirded him out more than anything. "T-thank you, ladies, but this really isn't necessary-" His voice trailed off when he turned to see the gates of the city open wide before him. He stood in shock when he saw, situated in the middle of the city square, a colossal statue of himself. Clark was stunned, though eventually he was led inside by Bela, their party joined by sword-wielding guards as they made their way towards the city's acropolis. Clark examined his statue further as they passed by, noticing that the iconic-looking stone Superman was holding some sort of box under his arm. He was unable to investigate further, having been pulled along by Bela until they came to the long marble steps of an opulent palace.
The large crowd of Naltorians that had formed around them stopped at the foot of the steps while Clark, Bela, and her handmaidens made the lofty trek to the high-arched entryway. Inside, the atrium stretched out into a lavish throne room overlooking the sea. At the end of the room sat an elevated platform with three golden thrones sitting atop it. The middle-most seat was the largest and currently occupied while the other two were empty. Sitting upon it was an older woman with the same platinum hair as Bela, wearing lavish purple robes and a silver crown. She had a warm, yet unnerving smile across her face and she held her arms open, welcoming them as they arrived.
Bela fell to her knee before her. "Apologies for not alerting you, mother. But I could not waste any time in getting to the shore this morning."
"It is forgiven, my child," the woman spoke, gesturing for Bela to rise. Her eyes then lingered over to Clark. "I dreamed it so. It could have only been you, who could have brought us him: Kal-El. Future-bringer. The Man of Tomorrow… Greetings, prophesied one, I am High Seer Aretea Nal. Ruler of all Naltor. It is an honor to finally be in your presence, I'm sure we'll have much to discuss."
"Hello Ma'am," Clark said, with admittedly little patience for prophecies. "I regret to inform you, I'm not exactly in the business of ushering in new ages of civilization. As a matter of fact, I'm in a bit of a pickle myself."
The High Seer closed her eyes and smiled. "In your quest to return home, yes? To Earth?"
"Why yes," Clark began, "How did you-" She opened her eyes and gave him a knowing look. "Oh, right, dreamed of it. Well then, have you dreamed of what I'm meant to do? How I'm supposed to get home? If the people of Earth are safe?" Clark's voice climbed, but he managed to ease himself back down. Despite their miraculous powers, he did not want to burden these people with his own problems.
"Our Futorians have long tried to study this pivotal moment in time," the High Seer began. "Though our visions have always been vague regarding the specifics. As if you, Kal-El, bring with you a fog…"
"Perhaps such uncertainty is a gift," Clark offered while wondering how such a society could function with nearly everyone's paths in life preset.
"Perhaps you are right, Kal-El, but we Naltorians refused to venture into the future completely blind. We have but one agreed-upon truth regarding your time here. A single line, if you will," Aretea said. "It was even written into the stone by our earliest of oracles, retold and studied ever since. Each and every time, in the form of song…" With that, the High Seer snapped her fingers and a row of bards marched out in a line into the throne room, bowing before their ruler, then to Clark himself. All were dressed in lavish red and blue cloaks with the House of El's shield embroidered onto their hoods.
Then, with the High Seer's command, the row of bards recited their ancient hymn in perfect harmony: "Kal-El of Earth, himself twice fallen, gifts to us his sacred treasure, a power of light. Will not remain unspoken, it is Naltor's destiny to walk among the awoken…"
"Power of light…" Clark whispered to himself, remembering the strange box that had adorned his pre-commemorative statue in the city square. He then turned to the bards. "Um, great show folks, but if you'd excuse me." He said, stepping forth through the crowd and behind the row of thrones. He exited out onto the marble balcony overlooking the sea and gazed above into the sky. He squinted, and using his telescopic vision, he spotted objects orbiting the planet just above the atmosphere. "I'll be right back…" He said with a smirk, taking a few steps backward. The whole group, including the High Seer herself, had rushed to crowd around the balcony in order to watch him. "Up, up…" Clark began, before leaping off the ledge of the balcony and into the air. "And away!" He cried, blasting forth into the sky at an incredible speed. The onlookers gasped in amazement as their Man of Tomorrow soared away before their eyes.
Clark couldn't help but smile as he cut through the clouds, breathing in the cool, refreshing air and feeling the warmth of the yellow sun against his skin. Though Clark soon found himself leaving the atmosphere and entering the cold dark of space. There he floated in the orbit of Naltor amongst shards of metal and burnt-out machinery; the remains of his rocket. After scanning the debris, he spotted a mostly intact box, still hot with irradiating blue light. A wave of relief washed over him. With the light-speed drive in relatively good shape, the hope of his return remained. Though building a brand new rocket from scratch on a planet that had hardly passed the bronze age, might prove even tougher than building one on a post-apocalyptic moon.
Nonetheless, he grabbed the box and began his descent back down to the surface. The royalty and their retainers watched as the god-like figure eclipsed the sun, his cloak billowing in the wind and a strange alien device beneath his arm. The High Seer outstretched her hand towards him and the others followed suit, letting their fingers touch his tattered blue suit as his feet landed down upon the marble floor once more.
"Behold, the instrument of our ascension," the High Seer spoke, her voice trembling as she moved her fingers across Clark's body and onto the light-speed drive.
"It's an engine," Clark explained, entering back into the throne room proper. "Capable of jumping a starship into light-speed. A nessasity for interstellar travel. I'd be happy to share its design, though give it freely to you, I cannot. I still need it to get back to Earth."
"Of course, of course," the High Seer said, coming up behind Clark. "I will have our future-scientist begin their work on it immediately." She then snapped her fingers and pointed to the drive. Two handmaidens took the device from Clark much to his dismay. He leaned in to take it back, but the High Seer held her hand to his chest. "It is alright, Kal-El. Our scientists have studied the intergalactic future of our people. Already they have designed great starships and extra-Naltorian space colonies. Though only now, with the final missing piece you have brought us, may they truly begin their work. Turning our dreams into reality. I promise, you will be the first to ride upon the fruits of their labor and use them to return to your home."
Clark eased his shoulders back and nodded to the High Seer, though he remained wary as he watched the light-speed drive leave his sight. "Apologies, your highness. Still getting used to how you folks operate around here."
"There is no need, Kal-El. You have given us more than enough with your presence here alone. Let us return the favor… with a feast!" the High Seer exclaimed raising her hands in the air.
"Gee, Ma'am, I'm not quite sure that's necessary," Clark began, though he knew there was hardly a point in arguing. On the other hand, a warm meal and some rest after all he'd been through didn't sound half bad.
"Nonsense!" Aretea said before turning to Bela and her handmaidens. "Girls, freshen him up for the feast. I want nothing but the finest for our honored guest. Tonight, we dine before the precipice of Naltor's Golden Age!"