Silver Surfer: All The Years #0
Written by Mark Robert
Bourne. Edited by James Pedrick
"All The Years"
Many, many years ago on the distant planet of Zenn-La, scientist Norrin Radd became the herald of Galactus in order to save his planet from the clutches of this planet-devourer. From that moment on, he would be known to the galaxy as the Silver Surfer, space-riding possessor of the power cosmic. For many decades Norrin served the planet eater until one momentous event forever changed his life; Galactus’ conquest of Earth. The Surfer joined earth’s super hero team the Fantastic Four in battle defending the planet from Galactus’ aggression. Soon after the planet eater’s defeat, Galactus condemned the Surfer to the Earth and suspended his ability to leave the planet. Now unable to return to his beloved home world of Zenn-La and his love Shalla Bal the Silver Surfer roamed the planet Earth. There he allied himself with their greatest heroes but was equally shunned by its populace.
In the years that would come, the Silver Surfer would again gain the freedom he so desperately desired. His adventures took him to the farthest extent of the universe, but at every turn, tragedy would seem to strike. Many a time he would face the ultimate threat to the existence of Zenn-la or that of the simulated death of his love.
Some twenty years forward, while returning to his home world after a long journey, the Silver Surfer discovered life on Zenn-La had gone on in his absence. His true love Shalla Bal had married and was with child. Once more, in the depths of hopelessness and loss, the Surfer would return to Galactus and, as once before, became his herald, the Silver Surfer.
It had been countless years since the favorite son of Zenn-la had been home. As he glided into the atmosphere, and through the blue and pink sky, the expression on the Silver Surfer’s smooth face turned from optimism to revelation. His home world that he treasured and knew so well had surprisingly changed extensively over the decades. The minuscule villages were now chaotic cities, and the cities had changed to a sizeable metropolis.
Unacknowledged, The Surfer glided downward through the center of the lively marketplace and peered into the now foreign faces of the swarmed populace. He scanned the shops, booths, and buildings for something familiar. He could not recognize a soul, nor could he distinguish the geography of the busy square; he was surely lost.
“I must find my love.” The Surfer thought.
In the great hall of ancestors, at the center of the refined room surrounded by portraits and memories of her lineage, Shalla Bal sat in a plush high back rocking chair. In her arms, she cradled a sleeping, auburn haired baby whose limp head moved in time to the rocking of the chair. From the heavy wooden door, a distinguished gray haired man entered the room with great haste and approached the mother and daughter.
“Shalla, my dear, a figure approaches the palace,” spoke the man softly as not to wake the sleeping child, “It is the Silver Surfer.”
“My god,” whispered Shalla Bal, staring out the large window, hoping to see a glimpse of her past love, “See that he finds his way here.”
“Yes, my love.”
There was an eternity of silence as the Surfer stood in the great hall. Shalla Bal sat with her child and husband awaiting any sort of reaction from her former betrothed. Several times the Surfer attempted to verbalize, but the words could not make it past his trembling lips.
“It has been too long, my Norrin,” said Shalla Bal abruptly.
“No longer your Norrin,” snapped the Surfer back, but then muttered, “And yes, it has been far too long and I am much to late.”
The Surfer lowered his head in awkwardness and abruptly turned to leave.
“Please forgive me,” whispered the Silver Surfer who moved to mount his surfboard.
“Norrin, please wait!” The pleading Shalla Bal shouted.
Shalla Bal passed the bundled child to her husband, as the docile Surfer froze in his place still faced away from the contemporary family.
“Please take Nalla,” softy spoke Shalla Bal “I need to talk with Norrin alone.”
“Yes, my love, we will leave you,” uttered the husband as he departed the room, cradling the child.
Cautiously, Shalla Bal approached the Silver Surfer, reached out and took his shining hand in her own shaking hand. Her ebony hair flowed down his glossed back as she laid her head upon his shoulder. The unsteady Surfer inhaled the scent of Shalla Bal’s beauty, flooding his thoughts with memories past and of a love lost forever.
“Norrin, my love, please understand, you must understand,” Shalla Bal softly said, “You will always have my heart, but you must know that in your absence, I had to give my love to another. Not only for myself but also for my people. He is a good man, Norrin, he reminds me of whom you once were all those years ago. We have been blessed with a lovely daughter; we are …happy. I understand why you could not be here and why we had to be apart for so many years and I want you to understand why I had to move on with my life.”
“I must go,” choked the Surfer. “I shall not return here again. I wish you splendid years.”
One last time, the Surfer turned and looked at Shalla Bal with all the hurt and pain he had ever known.
“You daughter,” he spoke, then pausing for a moment, said, “Tell her about us one day. I want you to know that no matter where I go or what I see in the vast cosmos, it will always be your face that reflects back at me.”
Shalla Bal gazed up at the stern shining face but beyond the silver surface and the intense glare, she saw the heartbreaking tear roll down the reflective face of the Silver Surfer who mounted his board and soared out the window.
As the Surfer departed into the glowing sky, his remaining thoughts were, “I will return to Galactus, where I belong.”
Continued in All The Years #1
Silver Surfer: All The Years…
Vol. 1 No. 0
Story (c) Copyright 2000 Mark Robert Bourne. All story rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system without the express permission by the writer/story copyright holder.
Please leave your comments below:
If you want to be contacted or have e-mail included.
Leave name if you would like it in our letter column.