#intothefire

Mortals didn’t scare Pele, not at all. Mortals with magic that didn’t belong to them? That didn’t scare her either, but it did make her concerned. All pantheons had learned from the mistakes of the Greek gods. When the Titan Prometheus stole fire from Mount Olympus and gave it as gift to humanity, the world changed. For better or for worse, it changed. And every god and goddess made it a point not to repeat such mistakes. It was decided: man and magic should not mix.

However, such separation was an ideal that could never be upheld. As civilizations rose and fell, as cultures suffered from genocide, magical objects were scattered all across the world. They were hardly ever retrieved.

And yet Pele found herself in front of a modest business in Domino City, Japan. “Kame Game” the sign read. She sensed magic here- her magic, ancient magic- long lost, and thought to be destroyed. Still in her traditional garb, she was not one for dreadful modern clothes, and so she garnered a few stares from people on the street. No matter. Random glances meant nothing to her.

She opened the door, a little bell chiming in time, alerting the shopkeeper inside to her arrival.

He seemed to be just a boy, she noticed. Short in stature, with spiked multicolored hair and bright eyes. His hands hovered over the object she desired- a konane game board. Not giving the boy much thought, she spoke up.

“That konane board belongs to me. I’d like it back- with no fuss nor fight, preferably.”

She walked closer, standing over him with the intention to intimidate. Only now did she study his face. It was somehow... familiar. Not ‘familiar’ like seeing a freind after a long time... No, this boy’s energy and reputation preceded him. She gasped, and pointed at him in shock. Could it be...?

“Wait, are you... his vessel?! The vessel of the pharaoh?! The boy who helped the Pharaoh Atem?!”

“Where Did It Go?”

It wasn't that Pele was too late.

It was that she hadn’t been there in the first place.

Pele kneeled at the foot of the disturbed earth that lay before her lover’s headstone. The grave was hardly visible under the mountain of flower bouquets, and dozens upon dozens of little pink, blue, and white flags that Pele was familiar with but didn't truly know the meaning of. The headstone was engraved:

In loving memory of Kelani Kapule

A`ohe lokomaika`i i nele i ke pâna`i No kind deed has ever lacked its reward

A small table stood beside the grave. A framed photograph was perched upon it, portraying an older woman, definitively Hawaiian- like Pele- perhaps in her late 50s, with short brown but graying hair, and brown eyes. Also on the table lay a newspaper clipping from the Honolulu Star-Bulletin that Pele couldn’t bear to ever read again:

Transgender activist killed in Honolulu

Pele was shaking, hands clasped in her lap, eyes shut tight to hold back even more tears. Too many had already been shed. Why did this happen? Pele knew gods were cruel, brutal, wrathful... But now humans were showing their true colors. Never had humans committed such a betrayal against her- to kill her greatest love... They would pay! But even so...

She turned to glance over her shoulder at her companion.

“I failed her, Dartz.”

Pele was collapsed in a chaise-style lounge in Anubis’ temple with wine in hand. She sighed, still feeling terrible for her outburst earlier. Truly, Anubis hadn’t done anything wrong... just her.

She heard someone approaching, and jumped to quick attention. They had a noticeably different gait that the jackal god. Pele rose, now alert and on guard. She set her glass down, gazing at the entrance to the room, waiting for whoever was coming. She kept her arms at her side, but was ready to defend herself at a moment’s notice.

“Who’s there?”