Chains of Paradise

Chapter One: Arrival

Kal-El remembered very little of how he had arrived at this place, but what he did recall were the chains. Forged of an unfamiliar, glowing metal, they had bound his wrists and ankles, leaving burns on his skin that only seemed to heal at an excruciatingly slow pace. Kal had no idea where he was, but one thing was certain: this was not the world he was meant to call home. The ship that had carried him through the stars had somehow led him to this isolated island—a paradise where beauty and cruelty danced together under the guise of strength.

He looked up as he pushed the wooden plow, his muscles straining as he dug deep into the earth. The field around him stretched endlessly, and all he could see were other men, few in number, each laboring under the unforgiving sun. Kal's strength far surpassed theirs, and though it might have made his work easier, he had learned to hold back, to keep himself unnoticed.

Overhead, an Amazon named Antiope watched, her dark eyes sharp as she patrolled the fields. She was among those entrusted with overseeing the male slaves, ensuring that no one stepped out of line. Her sharp features and commanding aura were well-known to all the men, who dared not look her way for too long. Kal, like the others, kept his head down.

"Faster, slave!" Her voice cut through the air, the crack of a whip punctuating her words. Kal flinched as it struck the ground beside him, the sharp snap a reminder of what lay in wait if he disobeyed.

"Yes, mistress," Kal replied quietly, his deep voice barely above a whisper. He pushed harder, his body moving with a practiced rhythm that belied the raw power coursing through his veins. Power that he had to keep hidden at all costs.

The Amazons were not ordinary peoples—they were strong, agile, and trained warriors. But Kal's strength was of a different kind, one that would shatter their expectations if he dared to show it. His father had told him he would be different, special, but as he labored in the fields, shackled and humbled, Kal wondered if that difference would ever mean anything beyond suffering. His powers, the very gifts that made him extraordinary, were now his greatest curse—a secret he had to keep from those who would see it as a threat.

The sun dipped lower on the horizon as the day dragged on, the air growing cooler as evening approached. The men were led back to their quarters, a small, enclosed area that offered nothing in terms of comfort. A simple bowl of gruel awaited each of them, placed on the ground like they were animals. Kal accepted his without complaint, lowering himself to the floor to eat, ignoring the ache in his muscles.

There was a whisper beside him, a voice laced with weariness and fear. "They say the queen has summoned someone new from the outside—a warrior, perhaps." The speaker was Lucian, a slight man who had been on the island longer than Kal had. His eyes darted around nervously as he spoke, glancing at the guards who stood at the door.

Kal listened but said nothing. The Amazons often brought in outsiders—warriors, scholars, artisans. They came and went, never staying long, always leaving behind whispers and rumors that circled the slaves like a cruel game of hope. Kal had learned not to pay attention, for no matter who came to Themyscira, the men remained in chains.

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and the men fell silent. An Amazon stepped inside, her gaze cold as she looked over the gathered slaves. "You," she said, her finger pointing directly at Kal. "Come with me."

Kal's heart pounded, but he rose without hesitation. He followed her out of the quarters, his bare feet treading carefully over the cool stone. The night air was crisp, and he could hear the distant crash of the ocean waves against the cliffs. The Amazon led him up a winding path, past the sleeping huts of the warrior women, to a grand hall that loomed above the rest of the island.

The door opened before them, revealing a spacious room lit by torches. At its center stood a woman Kal had never seen before—tall, regal, her golden armor gleaming even in the dim light. Queen Hippolyta.