I don't own anything except any original character and/or any original plot. Also, the Readers hero name, and powers, are NOT based off of Percy Jackson. I didn't begin reading the series until far after coming up with the concept, and before that, I hadn't heard much about it. Cover made by the amazing that_damdemigxd
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Chapter 1: Mirror Mirror
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Travelling to market planets was always an exciting thing. Of course I couldn't outwardly show all of my happiness- it would present me as vulnerable- I allowed a small smile to stretch across my lips. The different people, the stuffed stalls, the loud conversations. All of it integrated me into a society I had long been removed from.
"Berry seeds," I muttered to myself, looking at the stalls, "And gunga. Father said something about it originating from Orveon. Good thing I know a bit of their language."
I passed through herds of people within the building, drowning out their loud voices with my own thoughts. Every few stalls I stopped and bought something that was on my list, checking it off of my device when it was secured. Bags piled up in my arms, full of living essentials and otherwise.
"Orveonian," I paused at a stall with an Orveonian title. If I was going to find gunga anywhere it would be there, "Good afternoon. I'm looking for some gunga. I'm hoping you have some in stock."
"You're lucky, I just got a new shipment. Private people those Orveonians are, but more than willing to trade to peaceful federations. Makes me want to move there at times."
"Orveonian culture is quite interesting. We could learn a thing or two from them in terms of peace," I held out the credit chip for the merchant. Interesting, speaking of peace when my lifestyle was so violent in terms of training. But violence for peace was peaceful violence... It made sense in my mind.
"Is that all?" The worker held out a small bag, holding the plant.
Light reflections flashed past my eyes. I turned my head to face the mirror hanging from the side of the stall. Tiny pulsing crystals bordered it. I wasn't sure if it was the mirror's glass or the crystals that caught my attention, but it was calling to me.
"What's that?" I questioned, pointing at the mirror. The merchant followed my finger, exclaiming in excitement when he set his eyes on the mirror.
"Winush ta coxka. Mirror of truth," the merchant picked it up, setting it in front of me, "It's bordered by fragments of magic crystals. It's meant to show you truths your subconscious isn't even aware of. Good for soul searching and all that. I found it with a Madame Teyla."
"Interesting. I'll take it."
I traded credits for the mirror. It was the size of my torso and awkward to carry, but I felt a thrum of excitement I had been lacking lately. Traded half of the bags on my left arm to my right to carry the mirror, I continued on.
Mirrors weren't allowed at home. Well, they weren't necessarily banned, but Father said they distorted the truth. The only time I used them was during training to observe my movements from all angles to see what I had to improve. However, this was called the Mirror of Truth. And Father said I could buy myself one thing for working so hard. This was what I wanted.
Being able to cross everything off my list soon after purchasing the mirror, I trekked back to my ship. Upon turning out of the market I overheard footsteps behind me. I pushed down the temptation to turn around and look. That would give my awareness away.
Act natural, I chided myself, Let them get in close then deal with them
My ship was in sight. The small but sturdy and fast structure catching my sight easily. Top of the line. Knowing I had limited time before an attack, I sped up my pace. Two ships away from my own I set my bags and mirror on the ground.
"You don't understand what you got yourself into by following me."
The man bristled upon being addressed. He pulled a blaster out of his coat. Waving my hands around me I collected water from the air surrounding my body.
Forming thick shields of ice and quickly melting them to use offensively was my main tactic. It handled defense and offense at the same time. When the man paused to adjust his grip for a split second I struck. Freezing his wrists and ankles to the ground I hovered over him.
"Why did you attack me?" I growled animalistically, baring my front teeth.
"You were asking for it."
"Not good enough," I formed an ice spike to drive into his hand. Over his screams of pain I asked again, "Why did you attack me?"
"Trafficking! We never see any full Terrans out here. You would've earned me a fortune," the man screamed out. I scoffed. It was true, I saw races similar to Terrans, but we were fundamentally different. I was alone.
"Typical. Scum like you deserves to die. However, my father taught me to be generous. The ice will take around fifteen minutes to melt. Your body will bleed out in around twenty. Tick tock."
I sliced his subclavian vein in his shoulder, jumping back as blood spurted out. The last thing I needed was to stain my clothes with blood. Leaving the man in his misery, and ignoring the clench in my gut, I picked up my things and stepped onto my ship.
Setting my coordinates for home I leaned back in my seat. Tugging my shirt out of my pants, my fingers ran over three horizontal metal lines the width of my fingers on my stomach. Thicker than the one on my face, but were put there for the same reason; to enhance my abilities.
Both connected to technology attached to my body systems;;my face markings enhanced my hearing and eyesight. They ran from one cheekbone over my brows to the other. The ones on my stomach assisted in adapting to different atmospheres.
Father input them after difficulties on two different missions. I was temporarily blind and deaf, and could barely move for a week, but Father insisted it was important to make me better.
I dozed during the flight back, wondering distantly if the trafficker was still alive. I forgot to calculate for how out of it they would be, the extreme blood loss would most certainly put him out of his mind. But if he was determined enough, he would drag himself to help.
"Landing."
I jerked awake, rubbing my tired eyes. I fell asleep, missing reentering the atmosphere. Turning off the ship, I grabbed everything I bought and stepped off. The Garden was gorgeous, and was always a sight to see. But my eyes weren't on the landscape, they were searching for my father. Coming up with nothing, I hummed.
"Father?" I called out upon entering our makeshift home, Father had plans to make it better one day. No response, "Huh. He must be in the fields. It'll be dark soon."
I set the bags of groceries on the table. I paused to glance out the window at the sunset. I took the mirror to my bathroom, setting it against the sink and wall to keep it up.
I stared at myself. I hadn't done that in a long time. Running my tongue over my bottom row of teeth, I paused. Something was on my inner lip. From what I felt it was a symbol or language of some sort. I always felt it, but now I could see what it was.
Gripping the edges of my mouth I pulled my lip down. Welcome was tattooed in Wakandan, a Terran language. I didn't know how I knew either of those things, but it filled me with warmth.
The crystals on the rim of the mirror began to glow. A dull throb formed in my head. I winced, letting go of my lip as if that would solve the problem.
The ache intensified until drums were pounding against my skull. I let out a pained noise, squeezing my eyes shut. My body fell backwards against the wall and onto the floor.
"That was the longest ten minutes of my life." It was me, dressed in Terran clothes, with a fresh lip tattoo. I turned to a boy with brown hair and brown eyes, "You're up Peter."
Peter sat down in the seat, pulling down his lip and getting his own tattoo. When he was finished, we looked in a large mirror in front of us. The boy, Peter, glanced over at me, smiling.
"This is crazy," I whispered, "Absolutely insane."
"I guess you're officially Wakandans now," a girl behind us grinned, "Can't call you outsider anymore."
I yelped when one of the crystals on the mirror shattered, coming to. I put my hand over my mouth, the tattoo pressing against my tongue. Getting to my knees I cautiously glanced in the mirror, screaming.
My eyes were glowing blue. The blue you would see when looking over an ice-covered lake. The crystals glowed as my eyes did, another one shattering. Jumping back I let out a loud sob, overwhelmed. Emotions were weakness, but this was terrifying.
The mirror was meant to show me who I really was and all that crap. Instead, it showed me a memory I couldn't recall, with faces I couldn't name. My eyes reacted in a magic based way and two of the powerful crystals shattered.
"Daughter?" Father's towering frame stood in the doorway. I missed him coming in, "What has happened?"
I broke down and explained everything to him; From buying the mirror to what I saw when I looked inside. In the process of my explanation Father had picked me up and set in my bed with his good arm. His other was destroyed while balancing the universe, nearly unusable.
"Why do I have memories of Terra when I've never been there?"
Father sighed, eyes moving away from me, "You were sent on a mission to Earth nearly two years ago. You made friends, adapted, and fell in love. But he betrayed you. His team captured you and tortured you for information. You escaped. Your mind was damaged and traumatized so I locked away your memories. I apologize for not telling you sooner."
"I understand Father. You were protecting me. Goodnight."
Father went into the bathroom and retrieved the mirror from its place against the wall, "Goodnight, daughter."
"Oh, wait, Father!" I called out for him before he could leave, "I saw a boy in a red suit a while ago, you remember. Are they the same person?"
"Yes." Father left with the mirror.
When he was gone a sinking feeling bloomed in my stomach. I attempted to ignore it, focusing on changing into pajamas. Father wouldn't lie, I was raised to only deceive while on missions. Except, looking back on it I couldn't remember my childhood.
Thinking on it further, I remebered three market trips. I said I loved going there, but I could only remember three times. Twenty-one days were all I had in my mind, before that nothing. Twenty-one days of grueling training in the fields, of not thinking anything of my past. If Father erased my memory, why erase all of it?
Still, I couldn't shake the way that boy looked at me. That much love and admiration was impossible to fake.
~*~
The next morning I was just as tired as I was the night before. My dreams were plagued with that boy and the mirror.
Cautiously stepping around the crystal shards I would have to clean up, I stared at the blank wall above my sink. Sighing, I ignored the dull throb in my head and went through my morning routine.
"Shit," I swore as I stepped on a shard.
As I reached down to remove it from my heel, my body lurched forward.
Before I hit the ground I was in a car. My hands were little, so were my clothes. I was probably around six.
"Why did they call me a monster?" My voice was shaking.
"You aren't," the man driving stated simply.
"We're gonna get you cleaned up, then we'll talk. Okay?" A woman turned back to face me. She was familiar, so much like me.
My knee ached. It was bleeding from a cut matching a faint scar I had.
I blinked, and I was somewhere new. The two adults from before were talking quietly with a man in a wheelchair.
"She scraped her knee running out. We felt useless," the woman sighed.
"How can we be good parents if we can't protect her from people like that? She shouldn't have to hear that."
Parents? Now the resemblance made sense. They were my birth parents. I thought they abandoned me, but they were so concerned with my well-being. What changed between that moment and Thanos finding me?
"Allow me to talk to her," the bald man wheeled towards me, "(Y/n) what happened today is not your fault. You are powerful, and special. Something not many people understand."
"Is that why they were scared?"
"Yes. Fear of difference is dangerous. Love who you are (Y/n), you are the next phase in adaptation. What do we always say?"
"Mutant and proud." I was conscious again, uttering the words subconsciously.
That phrase made me want to cry out. Those words were so significant and yet I couldn't begin to understand why. They sent tremors through my heart and mind.
I was face down on the bathroom floor. Pushing myself up I brushed off my hands and shirt. I tugged up my pant leg. The scar matched the cut perfectly, discoloring my skin.
Sighing in frustration I leaned against the wall. Everything I had been told was being contradicted. Being abandoned by unloving parents. Being unloved by the people on Earth. Never being lied to.
Opening my mouth, I whispered my complicated thoughts in their simplest form. Something not even the Mirror of Truth could tell me.
"Who am I?"