Namor: The Sub-Mariner #7

[fan4]

Namor: The Sub-Mariner #7
Atlantis and Beyond

Written by mallet
Edited by Aaron Martel

The Sanctum Sanctorum, Dr. Strange’s home in Greenwich Village, had a distinctly dusty smell to it. The interior was the same as when Namor had first visited it, but the smell had grown to a noticeable level. A quick glance gave the answer as to why; several plain brown boxes sat in the main room, each loaded with ancient books and papers. The Prince of Atlantis was not alone with these books though, as unpacking the boxes was a thin, bald, Asian man.

“I see you’ve found my assistant, Wong.”

The voice came from the top of Strange’s spiral staircase, and upon further inspection the good Doctor was peering down the railing at the two. He descended slowly down to the two men, seemingly floating on air, or maybe it was just a trick on Namor’s eyes.

“I’m sorry you haven’t been introduced yet," Strange began. "He wasn’t here last time you were in--”

“Enough!” shouted the Sub-Mariner.

Reaching into a small pouch just behind the trident insignia on his briefs, he pulled out several folded pieces of paper. “Here are the pieces of the map, Strange! Help me get back Atlantis!” He held out the pieces in front of Strange.

“What an… interesting place to put things.”

“Just get to work weaving your spells.”

“You will use courtesy when addressing me, Namor,” said Strange, becoming annoyed with Namor’s attitude.

“You agreed to this Stran--”

“Silence!” The entire room shook as Strange yelled, as if the entire building were angry at Namor. “I have deemed to help you, but you will remain civil.”

Namor backed up a step. He had known Strange was powerful from what he knew on his journey but this was the first time he actually saw a portion of that strength.

“Very well Strange, you have my apologies.”

“None are needed, Sub-Mariner. I know you only wish to go home, but even I can only tolerate so much. Either way it is passed.” He took the pieces of the map from Namor and turned to go back upstairs. “To my study, Sub-Mariner. The spell should be easy enough for me now.”

With that he floated back up the staircase, Namor close behind him, to the open room that was the third floor. There was a desk and two chairs in one corner of the room but the majority of the floor was taken by a large pentagram encircled with a strange writing that even the worldly Namor could not place.

Noticing his guest's interest, Strange spoke up. “That is… That is what I use for some of my more powerful incantations. It is also a seal for an inter-dimensional demonic warlord.” Namor looked up at Strange, to which the sorcerer could only chuckle, “I get around, oh mighty Prince.”

Strange sat at the desk encouraging Namor to sit as well, which the Sub-Mariner did rather reluctantly. It was a short time later that Strange put together the map again and had read it, and he looked up with a rather unpleased look on his face.

“Namor, I have bad news.”

“What, Strange?”

“I cannot undo Destim’s ‘spell’ after all.”

“Why not?!”

“I scanned the map briefly with my magics, and it is the map of our time stream, our reality, but what Destim did… I don’t quite understand it. This map doesn’t actually give spells to use, it was written by magic and channels magical energy but it doesn’t actually have any spells!” Strange said, exasperated. “Because of that I now believe Destim, when he rewrote the map onto his body, made alterations. Alterations that created a new reality separate from our own, probably powered by the original map's latent mystical energies. Basically, he created his own universe where Atlantis dominates the world and he rules Atlantis.”

“A separate reality?! But how am I still here? Why do people remember Atlantis, then it disappears? Wouldn’t it have been completely forgotten, wouldn’t I have disappeared?”

“No, I don’t believe so. Something must have happened to the design or maybe it was incomplete at some small portion. You must be to vital to this time stream to be taken so easily and so with that small mistake you were spared, and your deeds to that point remained.”

“I did damage a line of his tattoo!”

“Ahh, that must be it then.”

Namor looked at the Doctor. “What can we do? If you can’t reverse Destim's meddling then what can be done?!” He rose angrily, not at the Doctor but just angry in a general sense. “I have come and gone too far to lose my kingdom to that usurper!”

“There is a way… but it will involve placing you in great personal danger.”

“I will do anything to restore my kingdom!”

“Then I can send you to this new dimension of Destim’s. There you’ll have to find and destroy Destim's map, which, given that it’s in his skin, he’ll probably be angry about. I warn you, the map of our time stream may be only simple paper, but you’ve seen what it can do when channeled like a battery by others. Destim IS the map for that time stream and he knew enough magic before; he will be nearly omnipotent in that realm. All that, and I will not be able to pull you back. You will have to find Destim and stop him to return.” Strange looked down, he didn’t have to be prophetic to know Namor’s coming response.

“Anything! I will do anything to restore my kingdom! Even if I must fight gods themselves, I will have my home and people returned to me!”

Strange could only smile and rise from his chair. “I will not be able to accompany you.”

Namor's eyes narrowed. “I did not ask for anyone to come with me.”

Strange ventured over to the pentagram on the floor before sitting and crossing his legs. His eyes slowly closed and he began to chant, his long orange cloak lifting off the ground behind him, and then his body. He floated with his legs still crossed, his voice still reciting some dark incantation, but now the symbols below him began to glow. Slowly, the air before Dr. Strange shimmered, his voice suddenly turning, a new, coherent chant coming from his mouth.

“By the stormy sight of Sigot, I need to look into realms best left not!”

Over and over the chant went until the air that shimmered glowed and rippled before him, and finally a strange, rotating circle appeared. Inside there was nothing but pure energy, and Dr. Strange turned to Namor.

“Now is the time to go if you are ready, Sub-Mariner! But remember I’ll not be able to bring you ba--”

But Namor had already entered the portal, causing it to close behind him. Strange now sat alone when a voice whispered in the back of his head, >>You have doomed him, fool.<<

“Silence, Dormammu.”

[fan4]

Through the portal Namor fell. It seemed to take forever, and yet he moved faster then he could comprehend and then… WATER. He was surrounded by it again, the salty taste of the sea, but these waters were not ones he knew. No, they were fresh and pure. That’s when his eyes focused again, and what a sight he beheld: spires rising from the sea floor farther then he could see, all bright gold or sparkling white. The blue-skinned Atlanteans were swimming through the passageways of the city. Namor floated there, staring. It had been so long since he had seen his own people; though he had been born with a surface dweller's pink skin, these were still his people! All dressed in their finest regalia, they went about their business until a young boy saw Namor floating alone.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“What?” said Namor, snapping out of his stun.

“Where are your pants?”

“Where am I, lad?”

“You’re in Atlantis, stupid, I should probably go tell somebody a strange pink man is swimming around without any clothes…”

“No! I mean halt, young one. I am here to meet with your… king.”

“Are you going to be in his freak show or something?”

The rage in Namor's body struggled to be released as his fist shook, but he held himself. It was only a child after all. “I… I... yes, I am. Please direct me toward his present location, child.”

“He’s about five ways over there!” The child pointed and there in the distance Namor saw a shimmering golden dome. “King Destim is the best, isn’t he?”

“No, fool child, he isn’t.” Then like a dart, Namor took off towards the dome.

To be continued