[CENTER][sup][h1][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/0199bab1-b090-7201-8b3b-ab3a333daa0f.webp[/img][/center][b][center][color=black] A Q U A L A D[/color]
[color=gold]A Q U A L A D[/color][/center]
[/b][/h1][/sup]
[sup][color=limegreen][b]SKIBIDI ATLANTIS RIZZ[/b] (part IV)[/color]
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[color=goldenrod][b]CURRY LIGHTHOUSE[/b][/color]
[color=limegreen][sub][b]Amnesty Island, Maine[/b][/sub][/color]

[INDENT][COLOR=SILVER][color=violet]“This is... [i]food?[/i]”[/color]

The shale-skinned Atlantean was more than skeptical as his purple eyes regarded something that defied what his short life experience had told him was possible, let alone edible. It was dry, more greasy than wet. And gooey.

For his part, Arthur looked as though the strange kid had just offended his religion. [color=limegreen]“Food? [i]Bruh[/i]. Like, [i]bruh[/i],”[/color] the tawny-haired boy blurted aloud, both hands outstretched as declared, with resolute conviction, [color=limegreen]“This is [b]pizza[/b]!”[/color]

Garth had been similarly confused about the concept of underwear. Or cotton in general. He was close enough to Arthur’s size that Tom had suggested a red and blue shorty-style wetsuit that stayed at the bottom of Arthur’s closet.

Red and blue were not his colors.

For his part, Arthur was still barefoot and hadn’t put his shirt back on. Which was also more or less normal. But he had, at least, changed out of his wet shorts.

For all Arthur’s reassurances, the young prince seemed quite disturbed by this unprecedented glimpse of the surface world. Thus far, it seemed every bit as savage as the stories told. [color=violet]“And you eat with your hands?”[/color] the black-haired youth asked, looking up to find his confirmation in Arthur devouring a slice while cheese and grease and whatever that red substance was oozed between his fingers and the sides of his palm.

Absolute [i]savagery[/i].

Arthur’s dad came to the prince’s rescue with a knife and fork. [color=snow]“Atlantean nobles don’t eat with their hands,”[/color] Tom Curry supplied as he set them down for the boy, looking at each in turn before he added, [color=snow]“[i]Tis’n’t proper,[/i]”[/color] is a particular accent. 

And smiled, as if he were remembering something.

[color=limegreen]“What about fish sticks?”[/color] Arthur blurted aloud, immediately recalling all the finger foods.

When Garth’s reply was a blank stare, he continued. [color=limegreen]“Popcorn shrimp? Nugs?”[/color] [i]Still nothing!?[/i] How was there still nothing? Nugs were, like, [b]a universal language[/b]. [color=limegreen]“[i]Bruh[/i], you got to have nugs!”[/color]

With a seemingly exasperated patience, the other boy turned his purple eyes up to the one person in the room who seemed to understand civility to ask, [color=violet]“Nugs?”[/color]

[color=snow]“Chicken nuggets,”[/color] Tom stated.

If it were meant to be an answer, it clearly left the Atlantean boy with more questions. [color=violet]“What’s a chicken?”[/color]

As long as they were asking the hard questions, Arthur had one as well. [color=limegreen]“Dad, how do you know about Atlanta or whatever?”[/color] Seriously, the whole ‘he breathes water’ thing. The ‘Atlanta nobles don’t eat with their hands’ thing.

[color=violet]“Your mother was Atlantean.”[/color]

Simultaneously, Garth found himself on the receiving end of two very different looks. Arthur, looking utterly shocked. And his father, looking quite aggro’d by that having been said.

Uncharacteristically, the prince stammered for a moment, as though trying to recover from a social faux pas, without concept of what he’d done wrong exactly. [color=violet]“Didn’t you know?”[/color] he posed, looking at Arthur.

[color=snow]“No. He didn’t,”[/color] Tom utterly flatly.

Tom was the reason for that. He owned the decision.

The prince started to speak, then seemed to think twice about it. When he did, he said, [color=violet]“My apologies if I’ve offended...”[/color]

The hair stood up on the back of Arthur’s neck. Something, like a shadow, passing just out of his view. The conversation at the kitchen table faded, as the boy turned his head and seemed to stare off at the refrigerator.

There was nothing there. Just the refrigerator, still boasting some of his artwork from when he’d been younger. 

He could have sworn...

[color=snow]“Arthur?”[/color]

Head whipping around, the tawny-haired boy looked up at his father, getting the distinct impression that hadn’t been the first or only time his name had been uttered. [color=limegreen]“Yes, sir?”[/color]

[color=snow]“Something wrong?”[/color]

[color=limegreen]“No,”[/color] Arthur said, giving a shake of his head as he looked back over at Garth.

[color=violet]“When my parents learn what you’ve done for me, they’ll reward you, I promise,”[/color] the prince was saying when he checked back into the conversation.

[color=snow]“I get the feeling someone was waiting for you to be found on that reef,”[/color] Tom noted cooly.

[color=violet]“Poisedonis attacked our kingdom. They said they wanted to use me to draw out some people who oppose the rule of Orm Marius,”[/color] the prince explained. 

Arthur could feel the [i]animosity[/i] that radiated from his father at the mention of the name, turning his eyes up in wonder of what else his father was keeping from him.

When the prince seemed to consider the implication of what he’d said, he added, [color=violet]“Shayeris is peaceful, we have no army at all. We’ve never had need for one.”[/color] 

[color=limegreen]“Po say what?”[/color] Arthur asked, looking back at Garth.

[color=snow]“Poisedonis,”[/color] Tom clarified, which seemed to confirm it. There was a lot more his dad wasn’t telling him.

For his part, Garth seemed eager to make clear that Shayeris had no part in the rebellion. [color=violet]“We’ve always had good relations with Poisedonis. I’m certain that this is a misunderstanding...”[/color]

Arthur’s head turned, his gaze again finding itself lingering on the refrigerator.

[color=snow]“Arthur?”[/color]

Drawn out of his reverie a second time, Arthur felt embarrassed as he answered, [color=limegreen]“Yeah?”[/color]

[color=snow]“You’re doing it again,”[/color] Tom noted patiently, picking up Garth’s empty plate and silverware as he slid his chair back from the table.

[color=limegreen]“Yeah, it’s just... [i]doja view[/i] or whatever.”[/color] He couldn’t have explained it if he’d tried.

[color=snow]“I see,”[/color] Tom remarked, as he brought the dirty dishes over to the sink.

And then threw an elbow at the air.

It connected, the sound of a muffled [i]thump[/i] and water sloshing as a man just seemed to appear, standing between the refrigerator and Arthur.

[color=snow]“[b]ARTHUR, MOVE![/b]"[/color] Tom snapped, grabbing the intruder about the head and neck. Dropping his weight, the man flipped the soldier over his shoulder. Arthur scooted out of the way just in time to avoid the stranger slamming onto the kitchen table – shattering the legs and laying both it and the soldier out onto the floor.

[color=limegreen]“[b]DAD[/b], [i]JESUS![/i]”[/color] Arthur squealed.

Three more figures seemed to appear from out of thin air, surrounding the man and two boys.

[color=skyblue]“PEACE!”[/color] the one in the center announced, holding up his hands. [color=skyblue]“Peace, I beg you. We mean you and the children no harm.”[/color]

Braced for a fight, Tom Curry seemed to be weighing his chances against the three – or four, counting the one he’d dropped, who was now rolling back up and staggering to his feet.

Outnumbered, the lighthouse keeper grudgingly lowered his arms, even as his hands stayed balled in fists.

Bowing his head in a gesture of gratitude, the middle figure then dropped to one knee before the black-haired prince. [color=skyblue]“Your Majesty,”[/color] he intoned, keeping his head bowed a moment longer before he rose back to his feet and continued, [color=skyblue]“We were so relieved to discover you safe.”[/color]

Turning his attention back to the adult in the room, the stranger remarked, [color=skyblue]“You must be the [b]Lightkeeper[/b]. Queen Atlanna spoke of you many times.”[/color]

If the name [i]Orm Marius[/i] had triggered recognition, when the name [b]Atlanna[/b] was dropped, Arthur felt something even stronger. 

The man addressed him next. [color=skyblue]“And you must be...”[/color]

[color=violet]“I... wait...”[/color]

Garth’s voice interrupted, the boy looking as though his entire world had just been shattered.

[color=violet]“What did you call me?”[/color][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[center][color=black][b]* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *[/b][/color][/center]
[INDENT][COLOR=SILVER]The entirety and [b]severity[/b] of Shayeris’ destruction had been a bitter pill to swallow. The rescue now overshadowed by the revelation that Garth had been delivered to safety an orphan.

A child without parents.

A king without a throne.

Arthur had helped to comfort the other boy, allowing Tom to ease back and retreat to his own thoughts of everything that had happened. 

He felt as though a door had been opened. A door that he’d always known had been there, as if laying in wait for Arthur to knock. Never, in his worst nightmares, had he imagined that Arthur would have flung that door open as he had.

Finding Garth had brought to mind how he’d found Atlanna. The fall of Shayeris recalling to mind her stories of the battle with her half-brother, the struggle to not be defined by [b]what[/b] she was. The more of Garth’s story that was told, the more that Tom felt the loss of his wife. More now than any time before.

The elder Atlantean approached the brooding lighthouse keeper. [color=snow]“You’re Vulko, aren’t you.”[/color]

It hadn’t been a question.

[color=skyblue]“Nuidis Vulko. I served Queen Atlanna and King Orin, her father, before her,”[/color] answered with a nod. Pausing a moment, the Atlantean remarked simply, [color=skyblue]“You don’t trust me, do you?”[/color]

With a slight nod of his head, Tom indicated where the two boys were on the far side of the room. Keeping his tone quiet, the man said, [color=snow]“I lost his mother to this fight over succession that she’d been trying to escape. Now you, what? Want to drag him into it?”[/color]

[color=skyblue]“I mean the boy no harm,”[/color] the Atlantean began, only to see the man bristle at that very notion. Taking a breath, Vulko tried a different approach instead. [color=skyblue]“You must understand, Orm isn’t just a threat to my world. He has no interest in governing. He knows only war. Once he’s consolidated power undersea, he’ll need a new conflict to distract from the fact that his government isn’t a government at all.”[/color]

Tom held the man’s eyes, as if weighing the sincerity of each word. [color=snow]“And you think, what? He’s going to take on the surface?”[/color]

[color=skyblue]“The only logical outlet.”[/color] To elaborate, the Atlantean continued, [color=skyblue]“He’s already begun a campaign of anti-surface rhetoric to set the conditions for when he’s claimed the title of Ocean Master.”[/color]

Interjecting, Tom demanded, [color=snow]“And you think these boys are the key to stopping him?”[/color] That was the heart of it. Why involve Arthur at all? 

[color=skyblue]“Atlanna was [i]gifted[/i] for the line of Atlan, but Arthur is by far the most powerful since Atlan himself,”[/color] Vulko stated flatly. [color=skyblue]“We both saw what happened at that reef. The sea re-shaping itself. Creatures of the deep leaping to his defense – Orm [i]wants[/i] to be Ocean Master. Arthur [b]is[/b] Ocean Master.”[/color] 

Tom’s jaw clenched, though he said nothing.

With a wave of his hand, Vulko continued, [color=skyblue]“Though I suspect he’d prefer the same title as his mother instead.”[/color]

[color=snow]“Atlanna didn’t care for titles.”[/color]

[color=skyblue]“No, the queen did not,”[/color] the Atlantean agreed candidly. [color=skyblue]“But the Fates are strange, and onto those who do not seek greatness is greatness thrust upon them.”[/color]

[color=snow]“I won’t let you drag my son into a war,”[/color] Tom uttered flatly, stepping close to the Atlantean, as if challenging him to defy that edict.

His challenge was met, the Atlantean stepping up, toe-to-toe with him. [color=skyblue]“Your son. [b]My king[/b],”[/color] Vulko stated, in the same matter-of-fact tone as earlier. Then, with a shake of his head, added, [color=skyblue]“He was part of this war the moment that he was born. I understand your position. And hope to prove mine to you. He must be prepared, because when word gets to Orm about what happened on that reef, the war will come to him. And to you.”[/color]

Tom’s shoulder squared up for a moment, then slumped. He knew what the man said was true. They were the same words Atlanna had used when she’d explained why she had to leave. [color=snow]“How long do we have?”[/color] he asked finally.

Vulko held out his hands in an empty gesture. [color=skyblue]“Perhaps days. Perhaps weeks. Orm will want to first focus on silencing the witnesses, reinforce his control over the army.”[/color]

Glancing over at where Arthur and Garth were seated, the Atlantean remarked, [color=skyblue]“What happened at Shayeris will sow seeds of doubt by Orm’s supporters. But by his sheer presence alone, Arthur has likely reignited the rebellion. More will join us as word spreads that Atlan’s true heir – the ocean itself – has stood up to Orm’s army.”[/color]

The words caused a pain in Tom’s heart. A sinking feeling, as he looked at his son and saw a child. A child who had a right to simply be a child. When he looked back at Vulko, he said, [color=snow]“I knew I’d have to contend with his heritage sooner or later.”[/color] 

Acknowledging Garth’s role in that, the man conceded, [color=snow]“At least it seems he’s made a friend.”[/color]

It was on that note that Vulko began, [color=skyblue]“They are both safer on the surface for now.”[/color]

[color=snow]“Even safer away from the lighthouse,”[/color] Tom reasoned, as if picking up on the same train of thought.

[color=skyblue]“Is such a thing possible?”[/color]

Looking over at a permission slip fastened by a magnet to the front of the refrigerator, Tom noted, [color=snow]“There’s a regional swim meet coming up. New York, I think.”[/color]

Even while the name held no meaning, Vulko understood that this ‘New York’ was elsewhere. [color=skyblue]“Orm won’t be able to track him on the surface. And if he knows that he’s not here, that likely delays any action he might take to retaliate against the harbor here.”[/color]

Tom held the Atlantean’s eyes for a moment, then simply gave a wordless nod.

An understanding at the very least, of the role that both would now play for a war that had chosen a pair of boy’s whose only crime was being born to the parents they’d been born to.[/COLOR][/INDENT]