Scions
There were very few things, in Victoria Dallon's estimation, that were cooler than flying.
She wished she could fly by herself already. Crystal took her for barrel rolls sometimes, but she never went as fast as Victoria wanted and it always ended too soon. The thirteen year old kicked her legs to get the swing to go higher. The sky seemed so far away, even with the gloomy clouds that had been threatening rain for the past days close to the earth. Even though she knew it was horrible, she wished she would just trigger already, and be able to fly in that far away sky. She swung higher and higher until the chains that connected the seat to the swingset groaned with effort. At the apex of her ascent, she let go.
Then the meteor hit Brockton Bay Central Park.
It landed on the artificial lake, instantly vaporizing half of its water content. The other half was launched into the atmosphere, coming down as droplets of water and mist, spread out a hundred feet around the impact site. The ducks inhabiting the lake and surroundings luckily escaped with no more than burnt feathers. Victoria completely missed her landing and ended up sprawled on the ground, skinning her hands and elbows a good deal.
The people in the park were leaving. Mothers picked their children and dog-walkers retreated from the plumes of dust and vapour. Some took out their cellphones and started filming, but they too backed off to a reasonable distance. Cape fights could be nasty things and they were not safe things. People in Brockton Bay knew that.
Victoria Dallon got up and blinked twice. She had been looking at the sky when the flaming shape had crashed through the cloud cover and she knew that it was not a cape. She took one step forward, then hesitated. It could be dangerous nonetheless, cape or not. And her dad had to be worried about her, somewhere around here with her sister. But she was the daughter of superheroes. She was not afraid. Without thinking a second more, she took off towards into the billowing smoke.
The dust stung her eyes and she had to close them. Before she could wonder again if this was really a good idea, she tripped on the border of the former lake and went tumbling down the crater. She bounced on holes and rocks on her way down, bruising herself, but like a barrel pushed off a hill, she just continued rolling, faster and faster until the ground levelled off and she mercifully stopped moving.
Everything hurt. Maybe she had broken something. Groaning, she lifted her upper body with the help of her arms. And all thoughts fled her when she laid eyes on what had fallen from the heavens.
It was a hammer.
The head was rectangular and huge, made of polished metal that sparked from within. The grip had leather circling around it, perfectly fitted to the metal, and one loop on at the end of it. It was perfect. A warhammer, capable of both destroying and building. The warhammer. Strange symbols covered one of the sides of the hammer. She scooted closer to get a better look. And though she couldn't recognize a single rune, she knew what was written.
Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of THOR.
Thor, like the god? It wasn't that caught Victoria's attention though. Worthiness and power, that did. She looked at the hammer, embedded in the dirt. Like the story of the sword in the stone, the procephy that heralded King Arthur's reign.
She stood up and reached to hold the hammer's grip, so large she could barely get her fingers around it. But before she could lift it, she paused and thought. Worthiness, what did it meant? Worthiness to wield power. Her mother's words came back to her. Responsibility.
To her, being worthy of having powers was to be a hero. To be a good person. No, more than that. It was to go out there and stop the villains. It was to work to protect everybody and to do it while not being afraid of showing her face and to be judged for her actions. And Victoria wanted to be a superhero, wanted to be worthy.
This was her test.
She heaved with all her might and the hammer, featherlight in her hands, was thrust skywards.
Thunder and lightning crashed down.
And Victoria Dallon was Mighty Thor, The Thunderer.
Thirteen years old, clad in tunic, scale mail and dwarven-forged armour, winged helmet on her head, red cape settling upon her shoulders as the storm she had called forth calmed. Mjolnïr was gripped above her head but the great hammer, now seemingly smaller, did not weight on her. She lowered her arms, marveling at how it moved with her, more a part of her than her own skin.
Scions
The hero stood tall, taller than before. She shone without light, a presence of power that awed those who saw her. Her family gathered around her, worried but joyful. Pride danced in their eyes. Love.
In the shadows of a nearby tree, a girl watched. Her brown curls blended into black, her lithe body swallowed by the dark around her. She watched the scene from afar, afraid, unwilling to step into the light. She was content in the sidelines, she told herself. The smile on the heroine's warmed her heart, but it also stirred something within her. Something she did not want.
'You know, they will never love you like that.' The smooth voice whispered by her ear, long black hair brushing her neck, sending shivers down her spine.
"That's okay." She spoke out loud. "Victoria deserves all of that and more."
'Well yes, of course.' The comment was sweet, sweet like caustic honey, hot like uncomfortable truths. 'But do you know why?
She couldn't help it, she peaked through the corner of her eyes. Red irises twinkled with malice, blue skin like the dark of winter wrinkling with a tight-lipped smile. She closed her eyes, averted her face. "No."
'It's okay, I understand. Feathers of a bird.' He soothed her. A cold wind ran fingers over her hair, pushing it away from her freckled face.
She just looked forward again, watched the family, golden hair on all of their heads. The young hero waved the hammer around, spoke loudly and excitedly. The mother laid a calming hand on her daughter's shoulder and smiled. It was a smile that spoke volumes of love and tenderness, bright as the weapons she wielded.
'She doesn't love you.' And she knew why, it was written on her skin and hair and eyes and bones, running through her veins, living in memories, nightmares.
"Shut up." She ground her teeth together and blinked back tears that had no reason to be gathering in her eyes. She left the shadow of the gnarled tree and walked towards her sister and family.
There was nobody left behind her.