kiragecko's X-Men
Goddess On Earth
by kiragecko

The ground was rough and the wheelchair bounced and clattered as Scott pushed it down the street. The Professor gave him directions, pictures appearing in his mind. It would be soon now; they had crossed the border half a block back. And there they were, three black men with long blades, circling the two of them with long practice.

"What you doin' on our land?"

"We wish to see the Goddess."

The Professor does the talking. Scott waits until the command to move. He's been his mentor's legs for years now and it is a natural, comfortable thing.

The streets are narrow and they go around many corners on their way to the temple. The area is improving with every step. Surfaces are clean and have new paint. Buildings look well kept up. People obviously care. They don't seem particularly interesting to much of the pedestrian traffic, a few kids stare but adults don't seem to notice. This is odd because they are the only white people in the area. These streets are ninety percent African immigrants and ten percent indigenous blacks.

The temple is raised from the surrounding street. For the first time Scott is bothered. He was ready to fight if necessary before, he's always ready to fight, but he was hoping he wouldn't have to do this. There's no choice, the wheelchair won't climb the stairs. With a sigh he picks up the older man. The Professor's chuckle is dry.

"It doesn't bother me, you know."

Scott nods. It only bothers him.

The tiny room is dark. A single skylight lights it. They wait, Scott on one of the benches provided. One of their escorts carried the wheelchair up.

The escorts have left. You see the Goddess alone.

For a moment the light is blocked by the figure gently descending through it. Rays of light seem to spill off of her. Hair and dress billow around her. A gust of breeze rustles Scott's hair.

"Why have you entered Storm's domain?"

"Who is here to listen?"

"We are alone."

He coughs, preparing for his speech.

"You are, I think, here for your people. To protect them in their new land, give them strength for a safe, proud life. In what used to be the ghetto you have created a thriving community. Few dare to attack your borders, knowing they'll face your wrath. You have given your life, your humanity, for these people. You wear a mask you can trust no one to know about.

"You have done all this for those you consider your people. I have a question for you: what if you discovered you had another people? What if you discovered that they were being killed and worse? What if you discovered that they need protection even more then this community?

"There was a girl in Kentucky. Her neighbours discovered she could remove her skin to find another material beneath. They killed her. Her family wasn't allowed to bury the body. A young man in Washington was killed by his father when it was discovered he had wings. A girl in Maine with pink skin disappeared. The government refuses to mount a search.

"There are more people like this and they are afraid and angry. Someone needs to be there to tell them that it won't help to form a gang to fight other gangs. That we need to rise above that. We need to help who we can and stop who we can. We must think, not just murder anyone who looks at us wrong. We need to be better and stronger then our opponents. We need to work together."

The woman stares at the bald man across the room. Winds whip through cracks in the walls and there's the sound of running outside. They sound is headed away from the temple. Silence stretches between the two. Finally the woman speaks.

"Prove who you are."

"Take us to the roof."

She lifts him with a gust of wind and Scott with another. Scott is allowed to stand in the rooftop garden, his companion remains cradled by the wind.

"Scott."

The young man raises his head and removes the heavy black glasses. An glowing red arc burns the sky. He returns the glasses to their place. A voice echoes through the woman's mind.

-You do not have to abandon these people who follow you. They are ready to stand on their own; let them. Come once a week, twice a week, and protect your borders and answer requests. You have done a good work here. Start a new one.-

In the light he can see her better. Six foot tall, chocolate skin, white hair to her waist, eyes a surprisingly soft blue for a goddess who provokes terror in her opponents. She smiles sadly.

"This was not an easy fight. I will be sad to start a new one. The pain and suffering of both sides hurts me. Here, at last, there is peace.

"Yet I can not stand by where I can be of service. If you truly fight for peace I will stand by your side. Let me tell my priestess that she will guide my people and that I will return when needed."

She floats and then begins to disappear through the skylight. There is one final remark before she is gone.

"My name is Storm. You can call me Ororo."