Sapphire
Themyscira
Diana had arrived straight from her mission to the island. She greeted her sisters and mother. It was good to be home. A large dinner was thrown for the occasion and everyone attended. Hippolyta was quite during most of the dinner. She sat in her chair watching Diana. Her daughter had been the best moment of her life. She would suffer all the agonies and pain again, just to have Diana. It made her decision easy and hard. Easy, as it was to save Diana, but hard because she knew how Diana would react to it. It had to be done, though, for her life was the most important thing.
The dinner was almost over when Hippolyta rose and called for attention.
"Sisters, I have an announcement,' Hippolyta began. "In one week's time, we will have a tournament, a special tournament. The title of Themyscira's Champion will be decided."
There were audible gasps all around the room as the implication of what she had just said sunk in. Diana was on her feet, glaring at her mother.
"What is the meaning of this mother?' She demanded.
"You will have to win the tournament to continue as Wonder Woman, Diana,' Hippolyta replied. "Otherwise, the winner will take your place and there will be a new Wonder Woman.'
The hall went into an uproar. Diana just stood staring at her mother.
The Watchtower
Clark's revelation was still sinking in, as well as Bruce's response.
"Thanks, Bruce, 'I'm dead' is really constructive,' Clark said.
"Sorry, you just caught me off guard is all,' Bruce replied, still a little shocked that Clark had slept with Hippolyta. "How did it happen? Was it the Red Kryptonite?"
"I wish I could say yes, but I don't think that was it,' Clark stated.
He gave Bruce the general outline of what had taken place and his conversation with Hippolyta the following morning.
"So now I'm wondering what I should do,' Clark said. "I mean, she said it was a one time thing, but I feel like I should do something.'
"What exactly?"
"That's just it,' Clark admitted. "I don't really know. This isn't the sort of thing I do very often or ever, so I'm not sure what would be right."
"I don't think sleeping with the Queen of the Amazons is a situation anyone's been in before, Clark,' Bruce replied.
"That isn't what I mean,' Clark said with a shake of his head. "A one-night stand, as she called it, I really never had one before. I feel like I should say or do something, I just don't know what."
"Like what? Ask her to go steady?' Bruce sarcastically replied.
"You know, I was hoping you might have something constructive here,' Clark said. "I mean this is sort of your territory, not mine."
"Excuse me?"
"Come on, Bruce, I know the playboy isn't just an image,' Clark offered. "You've done this sort of thing before, probably many, many times."
"Not that many,' Bruce said defensively.
"More than I have."
"Look, Clark, I understand what you're thinking, but not every encounter is meant to be forever,' Bruce replied. "I think Hippolyta made her thoughts on the matter pretty clear. You're going to have to accept it was a one time thing and that's it."
"I know what you're saying, Bruce, I do, but you have to understand, this isn't the sort of thing that happens to me,' Clark said. "I haven't really dated that many women in my life like you have.
"I haven't been with that many women,' Bruce said, again defensively.
"Can you count them on one hand? I can,' Clark countered. "On top of all of this, I also have a date with Dinah Saturday."
"You have a date with Dinah?" Bruce asked.
"Yes, and before you ask, no it wasn't because of the Red Kryptonite, well, mostly not because of it,' Clark admitted. "She did sort of catch me checking her out, but when she asked me I was in my right mind and said yes."
"Yeah, that does sort of prove you were in your right mind if you said yes."
"I accepted before this happened with Hippolyta," Clark continued. "I still want to go out with Dinah, but I'm not sure what should do about Hippolyta. I feel like I should do something."
"I get that, Clark, I do, but Hippolyta has already said it was once, never again, didn't she?"
"Yes."
"I think you have to respect her wishes,' Bruce stated. "She's not some teenage girl you got lucky with at the drive-in; she's an immortal Queen of the Amazons. I think she knows what she wants."
"So that's it? You think I should do nothing,' Clark asked.
"I don't really see what other choice you have." Bruce replied. "Besides, you have a date with Dinah. You said you want to go out with her, right? It wouldn't exactly be fair to her if you're still trying to hook up with Hippolyta at the same time."
Clark thought about this for a moment. What Bruce was saying made sense, but it still rubbed him the wrong way. He didn't really see an alternative, though.
"I guess you're right,' Clark reluctantly admitted. "It's not even about hooking up with her by any stretch of the imagination. I just feel like there's something else to this that I'm not seeing."
"I sorry things didn't work out differently for you, Clark, but I think you have to go along with what the lady wants,' Bruce continued. "I also agree with her that you should keep this private and not tell anyone else."
"I guess,' Clark absently said. In his mind he was still going over and over it, wondering if that was anything he should have done differently.
"Maybe you should just look at this as a wonderful memory,' Bruce offered. "A wonderful, private memory you two will always share."
Clark nodded and then reached out his hand to Bruce.
"Thank you, my friend, for listening,' Clark said. "I appreciate it."
"I hope it helped, a little,' Bruce replied. "Oh, and by the way, I'm sure you already know this but make absolutely sure Diana doesn't find out about this. I was serious, she'll kill you if she does."
'Yeah, I know,' Clark said with a nod. He cringed a little at even the thought.
"I don't even want to think about the rest of the Amazons finding out,' Clark admitted.
Themyscira
Hippolyta had left the council chamber and was walking back to her rooms. The Senate was debating the call for a new tournament and it seemed everyone wanted to have her voice heard. Hippolta's thoughts were elsewhere. She'd offered them no explanation, but she knew there was one person she would have to give one to and that was Diana. Hippolyta could still see the look of betrayal and hurt in her daughter's eyes from when she made the announcement. That made what she had to do even worse.
It's a strange thing, a parent's love; it shifts your perspective so completely that it's almost impossible to explain. Another person's welfare becomes more important than your own. It's a feeling that never goes away, no matter how old the child becomes. A mother couldn't be prouder of a daughter than Hippolyta was of Diana. She had grown into a remarkable woman, yet to keep her safe, Hippolyta knew she would have to hurt her. It's a sacrifice a Mother will always make for her child.
Since she'd decided on her course, Hippolyta knew she would have to give Diana an explanation for why. She also knew she couldn't tell her the real reason. Diana would never want another to take her place even if it meant her death. She was such an honorable and noble young woman, that something like that would go against her very nature. So Hippolyta would lie to her daughter. Diana might never forgive her for it, but that was a price Hippolyta was willing to pay. The alternative was too unimaginable to consider.
As she entered her chambers, she knew without even seeing her that Diana was waiting. She already had the story she would tell Diana ready.
"Are you going to explain what that was about, Mother?' She said from the shadows.
Hippolyta could see the anger and pain on Diana's face even in the low light.
"I thought I was rather clear,' Hippolyta replied, closing the door.
"Why, mother? Have I so disappointed you,' Diana asked.
"Hardly, far from it, Diana,' Hippolyta reassured her. "I couldn't be prouder of you."
"Then why?"
"Because so much as changed, so fast,' Hippolyta offered. There was a note of resignation in her voice, as she sat down and turned on one of the table lamps, brightening the room. Diana moved over and sat down across from her mother. She was angry and confused, but the look on her mother's face made her soften her voice.
"I don't understand, things always change, mother?"
"Yes, that's true,' Hippolyta admitted. "But you have to understand for thousands of years they didn't here. Now in such a short span everything has."
"Are you saying that's my fault? Is that why you're having this contest?" Diana asked.
"Yes and no,' Hippolyta replied. "The changes were long overdue and it took someone like you to help bring them about. I'm proud of you for that, Diana. Now, though, we must deal with the repercussions of those changes."
"What do you mean?"
"Since the tournament that made you our champion, so much is different, Diana,' Hippolyta explained. "We are once again in contact with the outside world; our people have doubled in size with the Bana now among us. New and different ways and voices are needed to adjust to all of this."
"But why another tournament?' Diana asked. "I have done all I can to represent and defend our sisters, mother."
"Yes, you have, but while you are my daughter and I love you, I must also be a Queen,' Hippolyta replied. "Not just to the Themyscirans, but to the Bana as well. I realized I haven't always been in favor of them, but they are a reality now. We cannot have two rival tribes always at each other's neck if we are going to survive. We need something that will draw all Amazons together. The Bana were not here when the first tournament took place. They will not say it openly, but many believe the outcome would have been different if they had."
"So this is to strengthen our people,' Diana said, thinking she was finally understanding her mother's reasons.
"Yes, to try and remain as we were is doomed to failure,' Hippolyta explained. "Change comes whether we like it or not, so the wise always try and adjust with it."
"Have the Gods spoken to you?' Diana asked.
"No,' Hippolyta replied. She thought about the many hours she had prayed and pleaded for the Gods to answer her concerning her dreams, but they never replied. "It appears the Gods are leaving this up to us. We must forge a new society and nation to meet the coming challenges. Each of us will have to change, adapted, but in the long run I believe it will make our sisters stronger."
"Thank you for explaining it to me, mother,' Diana said in a much softer voice. "I see that by calling this tournament you are not punishing me but trying to help our people."
"I'm promise, no matter what happens, daughter, I'm not trying to punish you,' Hippolyta said in all sincerity. They hugged each other and the tension seemed reduced now. A smile came to Diana's lips as she started for the door. She turned and looked at her mother once again.
"We will have another tournament, mother, but I plan on winning it," she said confidently. "The Gods have said it is my fate to be Champion and I plan on honoring their decree.'
Hippolyta gave her a sad smile and watched her leave. Once the door closed the smile slipped from her lips.
"Fates change, daughter," Hippolyta whispered.
Isle of White
Morgaine and Mordred walked through the streets of the sleep town of West Cowes on their way to dinner. It was their first venture out in public since Mordred's return to adulthood and Morgaine was in fine spirits. She relished the looks of admiration and envy they both received.
The power she'd siphoned off Mordred had fueled her, restoring her youth and beauty. She could still feel it coursing through her veins and wanted more. She'd tried every way she could think of to duplicate it but nothing had worked. Whatever it was, it was either dormant or gone. She dearly hoped it wasn't the later.
For now, she was just enjoying being out in the world with him again. She'd provided a complete wardrobe to Mordred and he looked even more handsome than she remembered. When she had returned from her business, he had been waiting for her, dressed in a charcoal gray suit that fit perfectly. She smiled thinking how nervous he looked, like a child heading out for his first day of school. She had changed into appropriate attire and suggested this field trip for them.
It felt strange to be out in the world again for Mordred. It was both frightening and exhilarating at the same time. The small town was so deceiving to his eye. It had echoes of the time he remembered, but every part of that was just an illusion. Modern conveniences were cleverly hid away so the tourists would feel like they were actually in some ancient place. He realized it was only him and his mother that knew the difference.
His mother, he knew she was up to something, but wasn't sure what. He could still picture her hovering over him after his vision had ended. The look in her eyes was pure desire and lust. It wasn't just for him, but more for whatever that power was. She'd been trying to provoke another vision, but nothing had happened.
The vision troubled him. It wasn't from his past or even anything he was familiar with. It was completely alien to him, yet he felt as if he were there living it. He could still remember the smells and sounds, the feel of battle and the standard in his hand. It had to be connected to the lightening somehow. How exactly he was still trying to figure out. Why it had chosen him, he had no clue.
There would be time for that, but now was for the present. He'd lost so much time; it was like looking at the world with new eyes. He had a child's understand of all the changes that had happened, but was still processing them in his adult mind.
The melancholy over losing so much time was tempered by his thirst to know this new world. This world was so fast, he felt out of step with it. Even in this quiet sleepy little town, the citizens rushed here and there, cell phones constantly out as if they were afraid they might miss something. To him it seemed their focus was drawn in some many different directions that it all became just images on a screen, even the people standing right next to them.
The other thing that struck him was the desperate need for them to feel like an individual, different from the rest. It led to extremes, piercing the flesh and inking it, yet in a world where every other person is pierced and inked, how much individuality did they really have?
Morgaine slipped her arm through his and smiled up at him. He glanced over at his mother and had to admit she looked radiant. None of the others on the street would believe they were mother and son, then again none would believe they were the actually Morgaine and Mordred from the ancient stories they knew.
"I thought you would be happier to get out again,' Morgaine said.
'"I am, it's just takes some getting used to,' he replied. "I have so much catching up to do, mother.'
"You never used to call me mother, Mordred,' she pointed out.
"A millennia as a child ingrains certain habits, mother,' he offered.
"On again about that, are you?' She sighed. "You are alive because of me, keep that in mind."
"Yes, mother."
"Stop calling me that or people will think there is something wrong with you. I hardly look like your mother anyway,' she snapped. "Most around us probably think I'm your date more likely.'
"You like that, don't you? If you don't want me to call you mother; than what would prefer? Miss le Fay, perhaps?"
"I see a thousand years hasn't changed that acerbic tongue of yours,' she fired back.
"Morgaine it is, I have no wish to fight with you,' he replied. He laid his hand over hers and gave her a rare smile. "The world is difficult enough to get used to without having you angry at me as well."
"Now see, that wasn't so hard, was it?' She said brightly. "We will get along so much better if you're nice to me.'
"As you wish, Morgaine."
Fawcett City
Mary sat on her bed hugging her stuffed bear. She was so confused. She didn't know what was happening to her or why. The vision had been so disturbing, so real. She could still feel how her sword had plunged into that alien's body, the spray of blood gushing over her.
The lightening hadn't just changed her body; it had to be the cause of the vision. She could still see the look of fear in Billy's eyes when she'd come out of the vision. She tried to explain to him, but could see he already had his own ideas. She was turning back into Black Mary he thought; she could see that in his eyes.
Was she?
Mary felt different, but that was more to do with the changes in her body than anything else. The same issues she'd been dealing with were still there, just in an adult body. Now she didn't even look like the sweet innocent young girl everyone thought she was.
Mary raised her longer, tapered hand in front of her face and looked at it. It wasn't that different than it had been, just thinner, perhaps more defined. She'd already been wondering who she really was and where she fit in. Now these new changes only made it worse.
"Shazam."
She whispered it, hoping against hope to be magically changed back, but nothing happened. Fresh tears started to roll down her face. Slumping back on the bed, she wondered again why this was happening to her. Didn't she deserve a normal life just like everyone else? It wasn't fair!
Mary gasped as the world shifted around her.
She was in an underground cavern, illuminated by torchlights placed all around. Incessant drums pulsed like a heartbeat. The sweat and smell of bodies jammed together filled her nostrils. Mary looked around and saw she was on an altar surrounded by a huge crowd of those same alien beings. They were chanting in some language she didn't understand. It seemed to be the same phrase over and over, building and building until it became an almost hysterical, orgasmic sound.
Mary felt herself thrust her hand into the air. She glanced up to see she was holding a standard aloft. It was torn and blood stained, but it wasn't the one she had in the last vision. This standard was three yellow lines on a field of green. Her mouth opened and she screamed something in the alien tongue. The crowd screamed and chanted even louder.
It was like an out of body experience for Mary. She was there, yet she was detached, watching herself. She screamed again and then tore the standard from its staff and ripped it to shreds. She cast them into the crowd and they scrambled madly to catch the pieces. Mary felt herself stretch her arms out above her head and the chanting built again. It was directed at her. Somehow Mary just knew they were worshiping her.
Mary sat up, gasping for breath, eyes wide. It took a moment for her to realize she was back in her room. Her body felt as if it were tingling all over, every cell alive. As quickly as she felt this, it vanished again. Mary looked all around her, her eyes wild with shock.
What's happening to me?
Isle of White
Dinner had been excellent. Mordred was pleased to see culinary skills had improved in the thousand years since he was last an adult. The blessings of the modern world he mused, sanitation and refrigeration.
After dinner, he and Morgaine walked leisurely around the town, stopping into the various little shops to look at their wares. He did his best to be pleasant, knowing how fickle his mother could be. Keeping her happy solved one of his problems, but not the central one. What happened to him?
He leaned against the outside wall of a store and light up a cigarette. Morgaine was inside shopping for ladies undergarments. Mordred had begged off, telling her his sensibilities hadn't caught up to the modern world that much that he was comfortable in such a store. She laughed and allowed him to be alone for the first time all evening.
It was strange, there hadn't even been cigarettes the last time he'd been an adult, but it seemed he had been a naughty boy and snuck them when mother wasn't looking. Now that he was an adult, he found he still craved the damn things. Another of the oddities of the modern world, he had to stand outside to light one up. In his time it was common to have a roaring fire in every room of the house.
Times and habits change.
As he leaned against the wall smoking, he made eye contact with several of the young women walking by. The smiles he received were welcome. It was good to know he wasn't so strange looking after all this time.
Mordred tilted his head upwards to exhale and his eyes found the stars. The world shifted around him.
He was back on the battlefield; only this time there was a deadly silence. All around him dead alien bodies' lay where they fell. Pain lanced through his chest and he looked down to see a spear sticking out. Blood was pouring from his wound as he pulled it out. The pain nearly sent him to his knees, but the distant sound of a battle cry made him keep standing. It was heading straight for him. He could see them now, a band of those alien warriors, swords drawn, eyes set on him.
He was alone; all around him lay the dead. He reached down and picked up a sword and the standard he was holding earlier, but when he looked at the on rushing warriors he knew there were too many. His mind was telling him to flee, but it was as if he was watching his body from outside. He gave a fierce war cry and started rushing towards the on coming warriors.
Archers cut him down before he even got close. Mordred could feel the sensation of his legs giving out from under him. The ground came rushing up to meet him. He was dying, yet he struggled to rise again. The warriors surrounded him, shouting and laughing in some alien language. His mouth opened, snarling something he didn't understand at them. The warriors parted and a figure stepped forward.
Each breath was getting harder and harder yet still he managed to rise to his knees. His head was swimming, death rushing nearer and nearer. His mouth opened again and hurled some alien curse at the figure standing in front of him. He received a smile in return, followed by a blade slicing into his chest. As life slipped away, the last thing he saw was the standard, three yellow lines on a field of green being ripped from his grasp.
His last support taken from him, he felt towards the ground and the release of death.
Mordred's eyes opened and he gasped for air. His legs nearly gave out under him and he grasped the wall to keep from falling. He was back in front of the little store on the Isle of White.
The Rooftop
Hiding in the shadows, Etrigan's piercing red eyes stared unblinkingly at Mordred. He felt the hatred rising inside him as he looked at the spawn of Morgaine le Fay. Why she had returned him to adulthood, Etrigan didn't know, but it didn't bode well. Morgaine had been in hiding since their last encounter, so for her to surface again meant something new that had captured her attention. She was up to something and knowing her it would have dire consequences for this world.
He watched Mordred stumble and nearly fall. Apparently she hadn't restored his mind along with his body. There was no sympathy for him coming from Etrigan. He should be dead for his part in the fall of Camelot. Whether he had a child mind now or not, he wouldn't escape judgment for his crimes. Be that as it may, Etrigan knew not to underestimate Mordred. The rotten apple doesn't fall too far from the rotten tree.
Whatever Morgaine was up to, Etrigan swore he would stop her. This time it would be forever.