A Mexican-American woman has been reincarnated as the Aztec Sun God Huitzilopochtli, granting her the abilities of the powerful patron God.
As she's fighting a war, she tries to live through the dilemmas of being a Mexican-American woman living in...
A few weeks had passed and Elenara had completely recovered. All her bruises and scars had vanished from her skin and she was back on her feet.
While she was bedridden, Steve became Clint's mentor, teaching him his knowledge on different fighting styles. He is after all the expert of martial arts; mastering at least fifty different styles and even creating his own.
The three trained rigorously. It was difficult, but much needed after her long break from work.
So far, everything was alright in their lives. Even Richard had left the home they once shared without much argument.
. . . The apartment interior was destroyed though.
Elenara stepped around the papers that were thrown all over the ground with a look of distaste. The coffee table was flipped and the television screen was broken.
Fruits that were beginning to grow mold were smashed against the wooden floor with an army of ants collecting small pieces of pears.
Her nose crinkled at the foul smell and shook her head.
The goddess quickly headed towards the corner that connected the living room and the hallway.
She sighed in relief once she saw her altar fully intact.
At least he had some sort of respect for the dead.
It was a large mahogany table with picture frames of all the people she loved that had passed.
Her mother and father, her grandparents, José and Luis, the Colonel, Jimmy. . .
She looked rapidly around for a picture that was missing. She dusted off the bright yellow magnolia flowers and rose petals that were beside the unlit candles.
"Where are you?" Elenara asked out loud in panic.
She took a few steps and heard the sound of glass scraping against her shoe and the wooden tile floor.
Her eyes peered down and they softened. She kneeled down and picked up the frame and swept off the broken shards of glass carefully.
She sent a puff of air from her mouth the send away any dust that was coated. Her fingers gently traced his face as if she could feel his skin through the paper.
A young Howard Stark gazed directly into her brown eyes.
It's been twenty years.
Twenty long years without him.
Elenara released a sigh and closed her eyes, her head pointed at the floor with her arms stretched out, resting against her knees and holding the frame away. She couldn't look too long into his picture before she would tear up.
