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February 28, 2013
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“The administration of Justice is the finest pillar of Government.”
                                                          -George Washington

Setting the stage and introducing the cast...

1745. The Colony of New York. 10 miles Outside the Village of Small.

A simple two wheeled farming cart, being pulled by a slightly withered looking grey horse, was bringing a very saddened couple back to their home and farm after spending the entire day journeying to the town of Metropolis, after their meeting with the town’s doctor.

Both were dressed as the usual “farm bumpkins” some would say, and the moon was bringing what light it could to the area. There was still light from the lantern hanging from the side that helped, as least on the husband’s side as he could not fully see his wife. But he could tell, despite the darkness and the bonnet she wore the was hidden most of the right side of the face, she still had the sorrowed look on her face she’d been wearing on her face ever since the doctor had given the horrible news. They’d both been quite the entire trip back.

Trying to lighten the mood as best he could, Jonathan Kentsington looked up, leaned over to his wife and said “It’s a lovely night out.” She did not answer, so he tried again by saying “The stars are shinning brighter tonight then they did for the past few weeks, eh?” Still no answer. He sighed at this point and began to say “Martha, my dear, you need to...”

“To what, Jonathan?” she suddenly said, turning to look at him now. “Accept it? And not show a little sympathy for myself? To go on about my life, knowing we can never be blessed with our own child?”

“Martha, please.” He placed his hand on her right shoulder. “Dr. Nelson did all he could. No form of medicine could help. But by these very stars, we cannot...”

“I don’t care, Jonathan!” she half shouted to him, making her husband recoil his hand. “I do not ask much of our lord on high. I do not ask he move mountains or forge an alter in gold for us. I only want any mother would...a child.” Her eyes began to tear as she looked away from him before her tone felt angered when she said “So to hell with the stars. May they fall from the heavens for all it matters.”

He leaned against the small wooden post on his side as the horse kept pulling the cart. He then looked up and beheld a sight that took his breath away. He was in such a state of shock and awe he leaned over and touched his wife’s shoulder again.

“Martha...” his voice almost a whisper.

She gave a deep sigh, dried away the tears under her eyes before turning and saying “Jonathan, I don’t...”

But even she was awed but what she now saw.

In the sky above, passing in front of the moon like stone thrown by God in heaven, a fiery object was falling towards the earth. Smaller pieces, as the Kentsingons would describe, broke off and seemed to grown smaller until disappearing altogether. Other pieces simple broke away and fell off to some other destination. But Jonathan and Martha only watched as the larger object, still on fire and falling fast, dropped and dropped until it passed over them.

They ducked down, Jonathan covering Martha in his embrace while she hid her face on his chest, as the object flew at least forty feet over their heads. Even they could feel the heat from the object as it passed by. The horse pulling the cart stopped and whinnied in fear as it went on its hind legs. Seeing this, Jonathan pulled on the reins to get it back under control. Just then there was a loud bang and for a moment the earth shook as if it would crack in-two.

When it finally subsided, and Jonathan managed to calm the horse, both he and Martha looked over to see where the object had landed. There was smoke rising from the field where it hit, and both could barely see that the ground around whatever it was had been shifted due to its impact. Hesitant at first, Jonathan finally mustered the courage to order the horse to walk from the road they’d been on, onto the field to investigate.

A few moments later they’d reached the site. Jonathan leapt out first and helped Martha down. As he tried to steady the horse, which was acting up again, she walked towards the objects landing point to see it better. The small crater from where it landed still had smoke coming from it, but that did not stop her from moving closer and closer to see. When she finally could, she gasped at the sight.

It was some form of otherworldly vessel made of metal. It was slender and half tilted as the front of it was buried into the ground. It had red fin-like parts on its sides and around the end of it. There was even a glass covering on the top-side but she could not see what was inside due to how dark it was and all the smoke around her.

Just as she’d looked at the glass covering, she jumped when she heard something moving only to see that’s what was. It lifted itself a bit before sliding back, making Martha’s curiosity get the better of her as she took steady steps towards the opened cover. Once she came closer, she could see something wriggling underneath a red sheet, or sorts, and making muffled sounds. She reached out slowly with one hand, pulled back the sheet and gasped again.

By this point Jonathan had managed to settle the horse and reached the edge of the crater to see the large metal vessel that had landed. He then saw a silhouette of something behind the smoke, coming towards him. He could tell it was Martha, by the shape of her dress and bonnet in the figure, but could see she was cradling something in her hands.

“Martha?” he asked, seeing her come closer now. “What is it?”

Once she reached him, she looked up, smiling with tears in her eyes, and said “It’’s a boy, Jonathan.”

He looked down in disbelief before his eyes beheld a small boy, no more than two years old at least, nestled in his wife’s arms and blanketed with a red sheet. The child, with his small patch of black hair, looked up to him with his little blue eyes and smiled, making Jonathan smile back. He looked down at the blanket and could see, behind Martha’s fingers, was a yellow symbol that was oddly styled into a S.

Martha only looked up into the sky, seeing the stars and the moon, with her eyes still wet with tears as she said “Thank you. Oh Lord, thank you.”


The Coast of Gotham, Massachusetts. 1 week later.

The fire from the lighthouse shined over the waters of the ocean as the winds picked up and clouds kept the area dark.

A man, a fisher by both trade and the looks of his clothing, stood out front of the lighthouse, looking out to the sea. The dirty-blonde haired and heavily bearded man tucked up the collar of his coat and fixed his hat to it would not blow off while he waited. He leaned against the lighthouse, the first to ever be built in the colonies, while pulling out his pipe and a match to light it. He was growing both impatient and nervous as he waited.

A moment later he looked and saw something start to come towards the sandy shore blow where the lighthouse was situated. He blew out the fire from the pipe, picked up the small lite lantern that was at his feet the whole time and hurried down towards the shore, reaching it just as the thing from the water started to come closer. He held up the lantern and sighed with relief after seeing who it was.

A very regal looking woman, with dark hair that hung all the way down her back, stepped out from the ocean with something nestled in a green and yellow sheet. The clothing she wore was light gold and looked almost like scales from a fish. At first glance any might mistake her for a mermaid come up from the oceans to try and walk on land. But this mermaid still had the legs and feet of a human and used them to walk further up to the sandy shore where the fisherman waited.

Both met each other and hugged the minute they were close enough. After a few moments of this the man looked down and pulled the sheet off the small blond-haired baby, no less than a year old, who was sleeping underneath.

“He’s beautiful.” He said with his slight Scottish accent, still looking at the babe. “He has the look of his mother.”

“And the strength and courage of his father.” The woman said.

He indicated for her to walk with him back up towards the lighthouse. They passed it, the man looking around every now-and-then to make sure no one else was around, before leading the woman to the small cottage nearby.

“You are sure this is what you want?” he stopped and asked her.

“Yes, Thomas.” She answered. “For his sake.” She held up the baby for a moment. “If I had stayed, they would have killed him before he could even speak.”

He sighed before saying “But leaving your own home. Your people. Atlanna...”

“I cannot carry that name now.” She cut him off. “And they are no longer my people. They’ve decided I am no long one of their own.” She nestled the baby as it fussed for a moment, before she said “As long as little Orin, here, lives, there is still hope.”

Thomas walked over an held her left shoulder with his free hand. He could see the desperation in her face, as well as in her words, before bringing her close for a kiss. They shared a brief one before they heard the baby fussing again in his sleep. Thomas looked down and lightly rubbed the head of the little baby  before kissing it as well.

“Orin...” he said, lamenting the name. “He might be wanting a more human one for now. How about...Arthur? After the great king of Camelot?”

Atlanna seemed confused at first, perhaps because she was not familiar with King Arthur, but then lightly smiled and looked back down as the babe had settled from his fussing.

“Arthur.” She almost hummed. “The fitting name.” Both began to walk closer to Thomas cottage now as she said “And one day you may be king as well, my child. My little Arthur Orin Curry.”

With that both went into the cottage and settled in to what would be their new lives with their son, the offspring of two worlds.


1753. The town of Gotham in the colony of Massachusetts.

It was a cold night as Thomas and Martha Wayne walked through the streets with their eight year old son, Bruce.

All three were bundle well as they passed one of the larger streets, their feet crunching under the snow. The few people still walking outside were doing their best to hurry home while the Waynes didn’t seem to hurry too much. Martha kept Bruce in front of her, both her hands on his shoulders, while Thomas stood close by.

“I still think it was a waste to drag us along to that little meeting, Thomas.” Martha said. “Poor Bruce had to sit alone while you discussed your business with the men and I clucked on with the other wives.”

“And I do apologize for that, Martha.” He answered. “As I have time and again this whole night. It’s as it is now. War with France on the horizon. The British soldiers become more and more paranoid to the point of having men stay in people’s homes. Besides, these meetings are good for Bruce. He may yet find himself in the same position one day.”

Martha only chuckled before looking down to her son and saying “You hear , Bruce? One of the first prerogative of being the richest trader in Gotham, if not all thirteen colonies: always attend every meeting, no matter how small or silly or boring it may be.”

Bruce, not fully listening to what had been said after the mention of the French, only looked up and stammered “ don’t t-think they’ll actually be war with France. D-do you, Father?”

“Oh see what you’ve done now, Thomas.” Martha said, stopping and kneeling in front of her son. “You’ve frightened the boy.”

In response Thomas looked his son, seeing the slightly frightened look on his face, before giving him a reassuring smile. He knelled down at this point and saw as his son seemed to perk a little as the corners of his mouth contorted to a smile as well.

“No need to be afraid, Bruce.” He said. “If war should come, we’ll all stay out of it. Leave it to men like the knights in those stories you love.”

“You mean like King Arthur and his round table knights?” Bruce asked almost gleefully.

“Well if the king was named Richard, and his knights were soldiers, then yes.” Thomas joked before rubbing the small hat on Bruce’s head, making it askew.

“Tell you what,” Martha began “once we’re home, I’ll have Alfred fetch you some milk while I tell you another story for bed.”

He smiled and nodded before both his parents stood straight. As they did, Thomas looked to see a small group of about eight British soldiers advancing down the road. Bruce looked to see them then looked back up to see his father with a worried look on his face.

Thomas looked around before spotting a small alleyway between two houses and saying “Here. We’ll cut through here. It’ll be a shortcut of sorts.”

Before Martha or Bruce could protest, Thomas pulled both of them towards the alleyway before all were in and walking down it. As they walked on, Thomas looked back to see the soldiers pass on.

“Thomas?” Martha asked as they still walked. “What was that all about?”

“It’s....nothing.” he said. “Just...felt like taking this shortcut is all. Saves us a bit of walking.”

She did not ask after this, only had a questioning look on her face.

The alleyway was very dark, with nothing but the light from the moon above and the lanterns from the streets ahead for them to see. Bruce, feeling a twinge of fear in the growing shadows of the alleyway, clung to the hand of his father.

“Don’t worry, Bruce.” He said, feeling his touch. “Don’t be afraid. We’re almost...”

He stopped, as well as Martha, before Bruce sopped as well and saw what was in their way from leaving the ally. Two men were standing in their path, both with hoods over their normal clothes and almost covering their faces. Some of their faces were exposed though, enough for Bruce to see both of them grinning.

Thomas pushed Martha and Bruce behind him before saying “What do you want?”

“Don’t try to play coy with us, Mr. Wayne.” One of them said in a cockney accent. “You know who we are. Or at the very least who we work for.”

“You’ve been holding out on your shipments, Wayne.” The other said, the both of them with grins on their faces. “And good old King George can’t afford that type of business.”

“The food from those shipments was meant for the citizens.” Thomas tried to defend himself by saying so. “Without it they’d have starved.”

“That’s all very touching and all,” the second one said “but like we said, the King can’t have that kind of backstabbing going on.”

“If you kill me, they’ll know.” Thomas said. “The King could soon find himself facing revolution if all know he sends men for shady businesses on the side.”

“But that’s just it. It wasn’t just the King who sent us.” The second one said. “ And at the end of the day, they’ll probably think it’s just another poor mugging gone for the worst.”

Both suddenly pulled out pistols from their hostlers. Thomas stood where he was before the crack of the gun from the second man went off, hitting Thomas. He dropped to the ground and Martha screamed his name before the other fired his gun at her. She dropped to the ground as well, leaving small little Bruce all alone.

He looked as the two men smirked at him, the first pulling out a small knife to finish the job, before the sound of people nearby caught their attention. Both looked to each other before running off, leaving Bruce in between the fallen bodies of his parents. He suddenly heard as his father tried to breath, making him kneel down to hear him whisper his final words.

“Don’ afraid...Bruce....don’t”

With those last words, Thomas Wayne shut his eyes and they would open no more. Bruce, now kneeling in the snow looked over the two bodies and began to cry.

For a moment he couldn’t hold back from his tears, but a moment later, as the sounds of people coming closer were in the distance, he wiped his eyes and opened them again. These eyes belong to a child who’s pain had now become his anger. His revenge. His curse.

Bruce looked up when he heard the sound of the bell from the church ring. A moment later, something in the sky flew over and cast its shadow over Bruce and the bodies of his parents when it flew past the light of the moon.

For that brief moment, Bruce found himself eclipsed in the shadow of a bat.


Five miles out from Williamsburg, Virginia. Three months later.

On a hidden shore far away from the town, a man and his son sat on the sandy beach, at night, looking up at the night sky and the and the constellations that lite it up.

The man, a sailor by his clothing, had a small lantern near him so he could see the eager face of his son. They would often come out to this shore and try to name the constellations and speak of how they are useful during sea travel. He would even find it heartwarming at how much his son was like him, in appearance since both had short brown hair and nearly the same looks down to their green eyes, but also in how he’d done this with his father at the boys age.

“Alright, Harold.” he said, getting his sons attention again. “How about that one?”

He pointed out, and even outlined with his fingers, a constellation that looked like a man with a bow.

“Orion.” Harold said eagerly.

“Right.” He said, rubbing his head. “So that means....”

Before he could finish Harold suddenly said “That means the North star would be over there.”

He saw as he son immediately pointed it out and chuckled “That’s my boy.” He sighed and said “Just wait, son. You’ll be like your old man, sailing and exploring across the great blue sea.”

Harold sighed and said “I wish I could go beyond the sea, father. Somewhere no one’s explored yet. Some whole other world.”

Harold clapped his son’s shoulder and said “You may one day, Harold. No one ever says you won’t.”

“James and Jason don’t think so.” He said with his tone going down a little.

“Don’t be paying too much attention to your brothers. They’re too busy taking advice from their mother and trying to be lawyers and the like.” He brought his son closer and said “But don’t let anything stop you from your dreams, Harold. One day, you’ll be the greatest explorer the world’s ever seen.”

“You believe that, pa?”

“I know it, my son. All it takes is enough courage and willpower. Never forget that.”

Harold nodded to his father before both looked back up into the sky. As they looked on only Harold ever noticed a strange green flash of light zip past in the night sky for a brief moment. But that would be the last night Harold Jordan and his father would spend their time together. The last time they would gaze into the stars.

For some time later, his father’s ship fell in a battle against the French in what many would call the Seven Year War.

City of Plymouth. England. Two weeks later.

A young boy, around the age of ten, was hurrying as fast as he could through the streets.

He looked back and waved goodbye to the group of friends he had to leave behind but didn’t look in time before tripping over a lone basket left in his way. He picked himself up as fast as he could, giving a few quick apologies to the women who owned the basket as he did, before brushing himself off, some dirt having gotten in his blonde hair, and  running onward. It was obvious he was running late for something.

Within a few moments he finally reached his house and opened the door, only to see he was very late indeed.

Sitting in the living room of the house were his parents  and the couple Garrickson, good friends to his own family.

“Bartholomew Allington.” His mother said, getting up from her seat on the chair and walking over to him. “You are late again, young man.” Once she reached him and kneeled down to rubbed his face. “and you have dirt all over you. You’ve been roughing with those children again. Why can you not be on time like your brother, Rudolph. He’s already washing up for dinner.”

“I’m sorry, mother.” Bartholomew said, down casted in tone.

“No worries, I think, Eliza.” The husband of the Garricksons said, getting up from his chair and walking over to him. “Little Bart here’s just in time for dinner, eh?” He looked at the boy and said “How have you been, Bart, my boy?”

“Doing well, Mr. Garrickson.” Bart said, a little more happier now.

“How many times, Bart? I keep saying call me Jason.”

“He’s only doing it out of habit.” Bart’s father said. “His school master, like any decent one, makes it a priority that the children know to properly address their elders.”

“And how do your studies go, young Bart?” Mary Garrickson asked from her seat.

“V-very well, Mrs. Garrickson.” Bart answered.

“The boy shows too much modesty.”  His father said. “One of the best in his class.”

“That’a boy.” Jason said, walking over and rubbing his head. “Keep it up and one day I may introduce you to my good friend, Dr. Franklin.”

Bart seemed to grow with eagerness as he said “Really? You mean it, Mr. Garrickson?”

“Now don’t get the boy too excited, Jason” Mary said.

“Now, now.” Bart’s father said. “Let’s save all this talk until after dinner then.”
All seemed to agree to this and the rest of the night involved eating, drinking and merriment.

At night, after all was done an everyone was relaxing, Jason had gone with Bart to his room and told him another fantastic story as he always did whenever he’d visit. Bart, already in his night clothes and half his body covered in the sheets on his bed, sat and listened eagerly as Jason went on and on with his story. His brother, Rudolph, was already asleep in the bed next to his.

“And then,” Jason continued. “just as everything looked grim for the heroes, the man with the speed of Hermes and the great sorcerer of fate came in and saved them all. With that final blow, the evil wizard Wotan was defeated. The world had been saved yet again.”

Bart slumped against his pillow and said “Amazing. Such a great story. Just like the one with the heroes fighting off the pirate with the Mask of Medusa.”

Jason chuckled and said “The Psychotic Pirate. Yes. You always did like that one. But it is getting late and I should head back down. And you’ll be needing your rest.”

Just as Bart settled in more, and Jason stood to leave, he asked “Mr. Garrickson? The way you talk about these stories...they just seem so real. Were...were you there? I mean, did you fight along with the Angle of Vengeance and the Sorcerer of Fate and all?”

Jason sighed for a moment before smiling and saying “I can’t say much about that, Bart. But I will say this much. Throughout your life you may travel the world and hear many amazing tales with fantastical things in them. You may not think them true but always know this: in every story lies a base of fact. And when you learn that for yourself, you may just yet find yourself in a story all your own.” He finished with a wink.

Bart, a little confused by this, only nodded before leaning over to snuff out the light to his candle. The moment he looked over and blew it out, he looked back only to see Jason had disappeared. He looked in confusion and saw the door to his room had been opened and there was a feint breeze in the room, despite the window being shut.

As he fell to sleep, Bart could not help but wonder if Mr. Garrickson and the hero from his story, the one blessed with the speed of Hermes, were one in the same.


An Island. Hidden somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Time unknown.

A tall, young women was standing out on the balcony of her room and looking out to the sea at night.

She was very beautiful, around her teen ages by her looks, and dressed in a white tunic dress with golden sandals and a belt around her waist.

The main source of light, besides the moon, were the many touches set inside the rest of her room, which was a very large one that looked like something out of ancient Greece. It had a large bed with drapes around the side, a run made from the hide of what seemed like a massive tiger with giant teeth, a few small tables and chairs set about here-and-there, and even a shield with a sword, spear and bow mounted together on the wall. The other noticeable thing was the door to her room with carvings depicting a grand battle between Athena and a horrible monster titan.

As the girl continued to look out, her attention was suddenly drawn when she heard the sound of her door open. She looked to see her mother, looking almost exactly like her except for her hair was styled in a bun and she more robes that draped to the ground, came in alone.

“Admiring Artemis in her glory, Diana?” her mother asked walking over.

She sighed before turning back to the view and saying “Just...taking in the night air as always, mother.”

Her mother only giggled to herself as she joined her daughter and said “So many years and yet you always think you can fool me. You were wondering about the outside world.” Diana only hung her head down before her mother said “The gods did bless you. A shame Hermes could not give you his mastery of trickery and deceit.”

Diana sighed before saying “It’s just...mother? Don’t you ever wonder what it might be like out there now? How much has changed?”

“As much as I sometimes do, it is not in my place to decide if man’s world is ready to see us return. That lies with the wisdom of Athena.”

“But I long to see more, mother. There is no telling what sort of wonders could be out there now.”

“The so-called wonders of man’s world may not be what you expect, daughter. Believe me. Your place is here. With me. With your sisters. Leave the outside world as it is.”

“But mother I...” Diana began.

“No more, Diana.” She cut her off. She held her the hand closest to her and said “I do not want you to think about the world of men anymore. I will not risk losing my only daughter to whatever horrors may lie out there. Do you understand?”

Diana seemed to hesitate an answer before finally saying “Y-yes...yes mother.”

Her mother only nodded before walking out of the room. Diana watched as she did before turning her attention back to the open sea. As much as she did want to see the world, she did not want to disrespect the words of her mother. But that would not stop her from continuing to dream.

She hoped and prayed that one day she would see the world beyond her island home, and bear witness to the wonders of the world. Never considering that she herself may become one as well.
I own nothing. All characters belong to the respective owners at DC comics.

Note: And here we have the prologue to my new story involving DC superheroes in the 18th century. I basically wanted a decent introduction into what kind of world this story is going to take place in, hence this prologue.
I also found it interesting how there are very small but clear things that connect some of these back-stories together. You just need to look hard enough to find some of them.
I would like to note how, for the sake of a bit of continuity from the originals, the cities of New York and Boston have been changed so that they are now Metropolis and Gotham. This should make things interesting given the histories behind these cities might change now.

Chapter 1: [link]
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mirz-alt Apr 29, 2013   General Artist
:iconsuperfeaturedplz: This piece showcased has been showcased in Are You Super? - Vol 3

If you enjoy the article, please consider faving it to help give the artists and art more exposure.
Excellent work! I-myself-am an avid writer and I strive to write fictionous stories that are tied with major events in world history. If you'd like I'd be glad to give you any help on your stories,if you'd like. Please contact me. You may also find the link to one of my stories here=> [link]
Kouhei-Son Mar 3, 2013
awesome dude
technomizer Mar 3, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you very much.
Kouhei-Son Mar 3, 2013
no prob
it's a very nice take on it and i hope to see more
technomizer Mar 1, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you very much.
Nice intro man. 18th century young Superman, Batman, Flash, Green Lanturne, and Wonder Woman. And i noticed the year was 1753. Was it during the Seven-Years War?
technomizer Feb 28, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Yeah. There's a mention of it when you look into Green Lantern's back-story. But it's brief.
I actually love history. Can't wait for what else you have pland for the story man
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