Caribbean Sea, 1675
Part One
In the water there are the microbes and surrounding them are their predators, the tiny shrimp. Eventually they become devoured by small fish who are prey to larger ones. All of this happens in the midst of a yellow forest. The forest, comprised of giant kelp, flutters and sways under the current of the Caribbean Sea. Rays of sunlight break through the surface and illuminate the murkiness of the food chain below. Tan hands spear through the kelp and part them like yellow curtains. Two humanoids with spears, one brown and the other blue, coast through the forest without difficulty. The food chain does not mind them, to them they are gods.
The brown one, a young man of eighteen, drifts aside as a shark passes by them. He grazes his fingertips against its skin. The shark jerks away and disappears into the forest of giant kelp. The blue one, much, much older, swims past him and ignores them both. The brown one stops and swims in place, staring at the kelp. At his heels are thin, white wings. He squints. The kelp sways.
For a moment the food chain ceases.
Through a sudden explosion of kelp a pair of jaws opens wide. The brown one swims up and over the shark as it barrel-rolls through the forest. He grabs onto its' dorsal fin and hangs on tightly. The shark rolls over and over again with white eyes, pulling the young man like a hung doll.
The two break through the edge of the forest and head into the open sea.
The brown one grips onto his spear, its' dagger shining brilliantly in a metallic green. He aims for a distinct spot in between its' eyes.
"Namor!"
The spear is thrown but it cuts through the water in the wrong direction.
The brown one is caught in the arms of the other swimmer and pulled off of the shark. The spear arches towards the broken sunlight and then falls silently towards the darkness of the seabed.
The shark swims away, finally, into the abyss of the sea.
The two stop moving and swim in place. The brown one glares at the other and hisses.
"Namor," the blue one says calmly.
The brown young man with winged ankles points at his heaving bare chest. His name is Namor.
"K'uk'ulkan!" Namor growls.
The blue one shakes his head, a hidden smile sneaking through.
Young Namor scans the darkness of the sea but a blue hand squeezes his shoulder, signaling him to give up. The blue one hands him his own spear, equally as a green, and swims in the opposite direction. Namor is pained. He tightens his grip on the spear and reluctantly follows. Behind him in the far distance something green sparkles.
Rocks descend from the top of a seamount. As they roll and collide with the coral below, pillars of sand and sea-life jet outwards like a white hand curling its fingers over the crustaceans and fish zig-zagging about.
The two swimmers are at the top of this seamount, searching through the rocks and plants without much hurry. They look more like scavengers than hunters.
"Kan!" Namor waves at the blue one who is prying a large rock away from a hole. He pulls out a pink conch hidden behind the rock.
A large red crab crawls out from its home and swings its claws at him. The blue one tucks the conch into his chest, looks up at Namor and promptly rolls the rock back over the hole. His name is Kan.
Kan nears Namor who is pointing at a half-sunken wooden chest. Kan motions at the chest which Namor promptly responds to by striking the lock with Kan's spear. The lock disintegrates and the chest opens wide, vomiting out a cloud of bubbles.
Namor swats the bubbles away and combs through a chest full of gold coins with his fingers. A frown grows on his face before swimming back a few feet. Not a single coin was taken.
Kan pats Namor's shoulder as he proceeds to lift the chest over on its side. An avalanche of gold descends the seamount, much of it getting caught in the steep terrain of rock and coral. The wooden chest tumbles downwards until it explodes. The sea-life immediately take the debris over as their new home.
Kan mutters something to Namor in a mysterious language to which Namor nods reluctantly.
The two swim to the top of the seamount and sit beside a spotted stingray. The animal flap its fins and flies away in a different direction. Kan hands Namor the pink conch. Namor smiles and nods thankfully before devouring the animal inside.
Aside from their swimming prowess the two couldn't be any more different. Kan was aging, bald and wore several jade necklaces to hide a grotesque scar that circled his neck. Namor was young and wore a high hair bun that helped accentuate the permanent scowl on his face.
Kan removes two balls of seaweed from a small satchel and hands one to Namor. Namor kept his gaze on the shimmering light above him. From their height they could also sea through to the surface world. Almost. Kan jabs Namor with the seaweed, snapping him out of his trance. Namor unrolls it and begins eating the food inside without a second thought.
Kan gives Namor's shoulder a tight squeeze and jabs at his own temple.
Pay attention, he tells him, don't day dream so much.
Namor ignores him and continues eating.
Do you miss your atla, your spear? Kan continues to probe.
Namor shakes his head.
What is it then? Speak. Kan keeps his voice steady as he interrogates his young companion.
Namor wipes his mouth and lets go of the seaweed wrapper. He watches it float away just as a Blue Tang fish bites onto it.
I don't care about the spear. Namor's native tongue bites harder than Kan's. He speaks with command.
Kan floats onto a boulder cross-legged and scratches his head.
You're lying. Kan smiles.
How dare you?
Easily, without hesitation even.
I am K'uk'ulkan!
You are still a boy, to me anyway.
Namor becomes silent. His conversations with Kan always resulted him in saving face.
All lost things will be found again. Kan looks up at the surface and notices the sunlight fading.
If not today… Kan looks at Namor who is glancing at the opposite direction.
Namor remains silent.
Then tomorrow. Kan smiles sympathetically.
Under the rippling moonlight Namor is obvious. He swims through the black water with ease but his senses are tuned for signs of danger. He knows he must not leave Kan alone for too long. The old Talokan is one of his wisest and fiercest protectors, which is to say Namor expects nothing less from him than to expect an intervention. For all he knows, Namor wondered, Kan is on his way to recover him.
Namor stops and swims in place. The moon is directly above him. He scans below him and waits.
Suddenly he sees a green sparkle and promptly dives. Namor dives as fast and as far as he possible can. The microbes keeping the sea in perfect balance sweep past his face like shooting stars.
He dives faster, farther.
The sparkle grows.
He reaches out as if he could telepathically call out for his atla, his spear. But he can't. Instead, he pushes his body downwards even faster, even farther.
Namor is suddenly clotheslined by an iron chain forcing him to spin out of control.
Namor scowls at the surprise rather than the pain and regains his balance. He swims towards the chain and jerks it aside. Even with Namor's strength it does not break, it simply returns to its original position. Namor follows the chain upwards with his eyes. He sees something dark floating beneath the moonlight. He then follows the chain downwards and sees the green sparkle again.
The spear, he wondered.
Namor performs a backflip before jetting for the bottom of the seabed. As he descends so too does the iron chain until, finally, he reaches the end.
Namor lands on his feet, sending a shockwave of sand in every direction. This consequentially reveals his spear, sticking out of the seabed at an angle. He lunges for his weapon and pulls out of the sand with great haste. Behind him, he quickly discovers, is a massive half-sunken object made of iron. The chain that had followed him so far deep into the sea's depth ended with this object.
Namor swims towards the object and rests his feet on one of its pointed hooks. He presses his hands against its textured surface before striking it with his spear.
Sparks fly.
Namor examines the wound and, while content with his might, follows the chain upwards towards the moonlight to investigate the source.
A large window swings shut just as someone walks into the captain's quarters. A white feather attached to a red hat bounces along as the person hangs their red coat. Then the hat is hung.
A soaking Namor peeks behind the captain's desk as he watches the person hang their belt and rapier scabbard. He is suddenly transfixed by a nearby candelabra but hides just in time. The person crosses the elegant center carpet and kicks one boot aside and then the other.
Namor, still crouching, spots the entrance across the room and leans forward as if to prepare for a thrilling sprint. The wings on his ankles open and tremble at the possibility of another exciting flight.
If they had a mind of their own they would most certainly chastise him, at last! it's been too long!
Then the person removes their head scarf and releases a cascade of beautiful, flowing red hair. Namor's heart stops as he watches this person toss their white, ruffled shirt across the room.
The shirt lands on Namor's face.
He panics and then immediately gags as a leather whip wraps around his neck.
Namor pulls the shirt off his face and flies upwards.
"Down lad."
Namor lands on his face and drops the spear. He tries to fly towards the window but he is jerked backwards again. Suddenly his feet are tied by a second whip. He turns around and hisses at his captor.
"I said down!"
Namor's head slams against the wooden floorboards.
Two whips, one at his ankles and the other around his neck, are held by a grinning woman with red hair. She leans over to the candelabra and softly blows out the candles.
There is darkness now but Namor's vision was beyond human. He rolls his face to one side to get a perfect glimpse of the woman crouching over him.
"You can still see me, can't you?"
Namor hisses.
He is pulled upwards.
"What do you see?"
Namor becomes silent.
"Do you know who I am or where you are?"
Namor remains silent.
"Do you understand me?"
Namor could feel the woman's breath against his skin.
"Yes," Namor whispered in English.
"Are you man?"
"No," Namor gritted his teeth.
"Kneel."
"No."
"I said kneel," the woman hissed back rather delightfully.
Namor felt the whip around his neck tighten, followed by a very deep sleep.