Chapter 5


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Early Morning – Amnesty Bay, Rocky Shoreline

While the ocean seemed like an overwhelming mystery to many, to Arthur Jr., it was a place of solitude, a sanctuary where the weight of his lineage could be shed, if only for a little while. The ocean was more than just a body of water to him; it was alive, a part of his soul.

He stood still, allowing the waves to lap at his toes, trying to center himself as the breeze ruffled his hair. His mind wandered, thinking of his training, his responsibilities, his family. There was always something on his mind—something that needed to be done.

But today, he wanted none of that. Today, he just wanted the sea. He wanted to feel the water around him, the familiar sense of control that came when he let his powers flow freely.

With a deep breath, Arthur Jr. closed his eyes and extended his hand toward the ocean, his fingers flexing as though reaching for an invisible thread. His powers—his connection to the water—responded instantly. A gentle ripple formed on the surface of the sea, radiating outward from his fingers, and the water began to rise, swirling lazily around his hand and arm.

It was almost effortless, the way he commanded the water. It had always been that way for him, even as a child. He remembered the first time he realized he could move water—it had been like discovering a missing piece of himself, something that had always been there, waiting for him to call upon it.

But today, as he watched the water coil and dance in the air, Arthur Jr. felt a strange unease. The movement of the water seemed sluggish, as though something was resisting him, pushing back against his control. His brow furrowed in concentration, and the water swirled faster, more aggressively, until it formed a tight spiral around his arm. He focused harder, willing the water to bend to his command, but the resistance only grew stronger.

And then, without warning, the water fell back into the ocean with a loud splash, leaving him standing there, panting, his heart racing in his chest. His hands dropped to his sides, fingers twitching in frustration.

“What the hell was that?” he muttered under his breath, staring down at the now-still water.

It wasn’t like him to struggle with his powers. Sure, there were times when they felt overwhelming—especially when he was younger—but he had always been able to control them. He had spent years training, honing his abilities, learning from both his mother and his uncle Orm. And yet, standing here now, he felt… powerless.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Something was wrong. He could feel it deep in his bones, an unease that gnawed at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Maybe he was pushing himself too hard. Maybe all the training and the expectations were starting to wear him down.

Or maybe it was something else.

Arthur Jr. let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the feeling. Whatever it was, he couldn’t afford to dwell on it. He had responsibilities, duties to his family and to the ocean. He couldn’t let his mind get clouded by doubt.

With a determined sigh, he bent down and dipped his fingers into the water, intending to feel the cool, familiar rush of the sea against his skin. But the moment his fingers touched the surface, a pulse of energy shot through him.

His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened in shock as the water beneath his hand began to glow—a soft, ethereal blue that shimmered like moonlight on the waves.

“What the…?”

The glowing water spread outward in gentle, rippling waves, each pulse brighter than the last. It wasn’t just a reflection of the sun—this was something else entirely, something far more powerful.

Before Arthur Jr. could react, the glow intensified, surrounding him in a cocoon of blue light. His heart raced, and he tried to pull his hand away, but it was as though the water had latched onto him, holding him in place with an invisible force.

And then it happened—the vision.


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Midday – The Vision's Grip

In an instant, the world around him dissolved into darkness, the ocean, the sand, and the sky falling away like water draining from a sink. Arthur Jr. felt weightless, suspended in a vast, endless void, and for a moment, he panicked, his mind scrambling to make sense of what was happening.

But before fear could take hold, a soft cry pierced the silence.

It was the sound of a baby—soft and weak, but unmistakable. Arthur Jr. turned toward the sound, his heart pounding in his chest as the darkness around him began to shift and warp, giving way to a new scene.

He was no longer standing by the shore of Amnesty Bay. Instead, he found himself deep beneath the ocean, in the heart of Atlantis. The royal palace towered above him, its gleaming spires and intricate architecture glowing softly in the ocean’s light. Everything was so clear, so vivid—it felt as though he were really there.

And then he saw them.

His parents, standing in the grand hall of the palace. His mother, Mera, cradled a small infant in her arms, her fiery red hair floating around her like tendrils of flame in the water. His father, the mighty Aquaman, stood beside her, his broad shoulders tense, his jaw set in a way that spoke of both pride and worry.

The infant—Arthur Jr. himself—was wailing, his tiny fists clenched as he cried. And as he cried, the water around him began to shimmer, glowing with the same blue light that had engulfed the ocean moments ago.

Arthur Jr. watched in stunned silence as the baby’s cries grew louder, and with each cry, the water pulsed, radiating energy that rippled through the palace. The glow intensified, spreading outward from the infant like a shockwave, and the sea creatures outside the palace began to stir.

Fish, eels, dolphins, even whales—creatures of all shapes and sizes were drawn toward the palace, as though answering some primal call. The baby’s power was undeniable, a raw, untamed force that resonated with the very essence of the ocean itself.

But it wasn’t just the creatures that responded.

As the infant’s cries grew more insistent, the ocean itself seemed to react. Massive waves crashed against the outer walls of the city, shaking the very foundations of Atlantis. Whirlpools formed in the open sea, and the currents surged violently, threatening to tear apart everything in their path.

Arthur Jr. felt a chill run down his spine as he watched the scene unfold. This wasn’t just a display of power—this was chaos.

His mother, Mera, held the infant close, trying to soothe him, but even she, with her mastery over hydrokinesis, could not contain the overwhelming energy radiating from her son.

And then, as the chaos reached its peak, a figure appeared.

The ancient clerk, draped in flowing robes of deep blue, entered the chamber, their presence commanding and serene. They moved with the grace of someone who had lived through centuries, their eyes glowing faintly with the wisdom of ages past.

Without a word, the clerk approached the infant, their hands glowing with soft blue energy. They spoke in the ancient Atlantean tongue, a language that resonated deep within Arthur Jr.’s soul, though he could barely understand it.

The clerk’s voice was calm, steady, as they placed their hands on the baby’s forehead. The glow of the water began to dim, the chaos subsiding as the ancient spell took hold.

“These powers must sleep… until he is ready,” the clerk whispered, their voice carrying the weight of the ocean itself.


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Certainly! I'll pick up from where we left off.


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The Aftermath – Return to Amnesty Bay

Arthur Jr. gasped, his body jolting as the vision released its hold on him. He collapsed onto the wet sand, his breathing labored, his heart pounding in his chest as if it would burst. He could still feel the residual energy of the vision thrumming through him, his muscles twitching with the aftershock of the power he had witnessed.

For a long moment, he lay there, staring up at the sky, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The vision had felt so real, so vivid—it was as if he had been transported back in time, reliving the moment of his birth, witnessing the raw, untamed power he had wielded as an infant.

But now, he was back in the present, back on the shores of Amnesty Bay, with the weight of that ancient memory pressing down on him. His body ached from the experience, and his mind spun with questions, each one more overwhelming than the last. Why had the vision come to him now? What was it trying to tell him?

And most importantly—was the power he had seen still within him, waiting to awaken?

Arthur Jr. clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as a surge of frustration bubbled up inside him. He had trained his whole life to control his powers, to be the son his parents had always expected him to be. But no one had ever mentioned this—this hidden potential, this explosive force that seemed beyond his comprehension.

A sudden fear clawed at his chest. Was that why his powers had felt off earlier? Was it because something deeper—something uncontrollable—was stirring inside him?

He shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering dread. He couldn’t afford to think like that. Not now. Not when there were more immediate matters at hand.

Struggling to his feet, Arthur Jr. wiped the sand from his hands, his breathing still uneven. The ocean before him had returned to its calm state, the water no longer glowing, the strange pulse of energy gone as if it had never existed. Yet the memory of the vision lingered in the back of his mind, like a whisper he couldn’t quite shake.

What had the ancient clerk said? "These powers must sleep… until he is ready."

He frowned, the words echoing ominously in his head. Until he is ready. But ready for what?

The prophecy. The very prophecy he had been recalling during his sparring session with Orm.

Arthur Jr. winced as the thought hit him, his heart sinking. He had tried so hard to distance himself from the prophecy’s weight, to convince himself that he was just a normal kid. But deep down, he knew the truth. He had always known. The prophecy was tied to him. He wasn’t just a player in some ancient tale—he was the key to it all.

Aquaris. The name whispered through his mind like a ghostly echo, sending a chill down his spine. The warrior destined to unite the kingdoms into Thalassia. The one who would bring balance or destruction.

Could it be that he, Arthur Curry Jr., was the warrior the prophecy foretold?

He bit down on his lip, hard enough to taste blood. He didn’t want to think about that. Not yet. But the vision was a reminder—a warning, perhaps—that whatever was coming, it was getting closer. And he couldn’t run from it forever.


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Midday – Amnesty Bay, Thomas Curry’s House

The scent of saltwater followed Arthur Jr. as he trudged up the beach toward his grandfather’s house, his body still weary from the vision. He had hoped the walk would clear his head, but the questions swirling in his mind only seemed to grow louder with each step. The soft creak of the front porch greeted him as he stepped up, brushing past the familiar hanging nets and fishing gear that adorned the entryway.

Thomas Curry was inside, seated at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in hand. His weathered face lit up the moment he saw his grandson enter.

“Morning, kid,” he greeted warmly, though his sharp blue eyes quickly noticed Arthur Jr.’s disheveled state. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer. Everything okay?”

Arthur Jr. managed a weak smile as he sat down across from his grandfather. “Yeah… just had a weird morning.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow, his fingers tapping lightly against the ceramic mug. “Weird how?”

Arthur Jr. hesitated. He had always been close with his grandfather, but there were some things he wasn’t ready to share—not yet. The vision, the prophecy, the unease gnawing at his gut—it was too much, too tangled for words right now.

“I don’t know. I was just training down at the beach, and… something felt off. My powers… they didn’t respond the way they usually do.”

Thomas leaned forward, his expression growing serious. “Off how?”

“Like…” Arthur Jr. rubbed his temples, searching for the right words. “Like the water was fighting me. Like it didn’t want to be controlled. And then I had this… vision.” He trailed off, unsure of how to explain the rest.

Thomas was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “A vision, huh? You’ve had those before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” Arthur Jr. admitted. “But this one was different. It felt more… real. Like I was there, living through it.”

“What did you see?”

Arthur Jr. hesitated again, but there was no point in holding back now. He needed answers, and his grandfather might be the only one who could give them. “I saw myself—when I was a baby. And there was this… power. It was wild, uncontrollable. It was like the ocean itself was answering to me, but it was too much. There was someone there, an ancient clerk, I think. They said my powers had to ‘sleep’ until I was ready.”

Thomas didn’t speak for a long while. His gaze dropped to the table, and his fingers tightened around the mug. Arthur Jr. could see the concern in his eyes, the gears turning as his grandfather processed what he had just heard.

“That’s… something I’ve heard before,” Thomas finally said, his voice low. “Your father mentioned something about it when you were born. He didn’t give me all the details, but he said there was something special about you, something beyond what even he or your mother had. He didn’t say much more than that, but I could tell it worried him. And now…” He trailed off, his eyes meeting Arthur Jr.’s.

Arthur Jr. swallowed hard. The unease in his chest deepened.

“Do you think this has to do with the prophecy?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Thomas’s expression darkened. “It might. I don’t like to put too much stock in those old legends, but… with everything that’s been happening lately, it’s hard to ignore. Your powers, the prophecy, the vision—it’s all connected, somehow. The question is, what are we supposed to do about it?”

Arthur Jr. leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. What were they supposed to do? He didn’t have the answers. Not yet.

But one thing was becoming clear: the time was approaching. The prophecy wasn’t some distant, abstract threat anymore. It was here, on the horizon, and Arthur Jr. could feel it closing in with each passing day.

“I don’t know,” Arthur Jr. admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But whatever’s coming… I think I’m going to have to face it sooner rather than later.”

Thomas nodded solemnly, his expression grim. “You’re not alone, kid. We’ll figure this out together.”

Arthur Jr. forced a small smile, grateful for the support. But deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, when the time came, he might have to face this alone.


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End of Chapter 5.