𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 .•* 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐈

10 Years Prior

"She's going to be different from all of the other kids, Maninira."

To use her full name felt unfamiliar in his mouth, but he had no other power to emphasize his point. His words were all he had.

The man who spoke was tall and handsome, fitted with clear skin that matched his child's and hair with a beautiful texture which did the same.  In fact, his child bore almost an exact resemblance of him, save for her (e/c) eyes.  Those were her mother's.

His words were met with much resistance, an agitated stare into his eyes.  "Different can be good, Jerome," his wife replied. "She doesn't have to be."

"I don't want to force my child to hide herself," the man replied, shaking his head.

"She won't have to.  She looks just like you," the woman replied.  "She's not like me."

And she was right.  Their daughter hadn't inherited the sharp features of her mother, the pointed ears that had to be surgically reshaped or the slanted eyes that required careful eye makeup to look human natural.  None of the skin designs which were passed off as tattoos, and certainly not the bright colorful hair.  Their daughter looked positively human. 

Visually, she was the same.

"But you will always be a part of her.  A piece she shouldn't have to repress.  A piece you shouldn't force her to." The words left unsaid were loud and jarring in both of their minds. Her power, like it or not, was already beginning to bloom.

"The world will need someone like her once I'm gone.  I can't stay on this planet forever, you know.  Not while it's claimed by Viltrum."

It was true, their time together was weaning.  Ten more years, maximum, and that wasn't including the time the woman would have to spend back on her home planet, finding a way to bring her family out of danger.  Diplomatically, she couldn't save Earth from Viltrum, but she could save her family from Earth.

Although first she'd have to save her planet from themselves.

"There are plenty of other superheroes," the man replied.  "The world can find another one."

"Not one like her, not quite.  Vakilian powers are very unique.  And to use them correctly, she needs to be loved.  Not like on Vakilia, where love is not shown but just trusted to be there, but loved how humans do.  I've never felt anything like it."

Like humans do.  Where they give little gifts, and make time in their day to do things for each other.  Where they feel compassion for others, even if they stand nothing to gain. 

Unlike on Vakilia, where 'love' was something expected, something not shown but told.  Something much more akin to a mutual respect than a warm feeling in your chest. 

"You could show her that love," the man insisted, reaching out to capture his wife's right hand in his.  The gesture itself was a final cry for his argument.  He knew he was fighting an uphill battle.

"Not on Vakilia.  Not while the planet's unstable.  I'm not letting (Y/N) get caught up in this."

"She'll never learn her powers.  I can't teach her."

He knew the argument was flimsy. He'd head all too many times about the trials usually faced when the people of Vakilia came of age. Nobody was ever taught, you had to learn. It came naturally, or it didn't.

There was a high price to pay for not learning, and it rapidly occurred that his child's story would be no different.

"She'll teach herself.  And once the time comes, she'll learn the rest."

Eight years later, the words could never have been more true.