At the Lighthouse Steps...

The child found themselves approaching the large tower that loomed overhead. The giant cylinder was decorated with an iconic red stripe that wrapped around the white paint coating. It sat on the cliff of a cove, overlooking the rolling waves of the sea. They had never been this close to the ocean before and certainly had not experienced the majesty of a lighthouse when alive. The stone steps were many and they got halfway up, pausing briefly to catch their breath.

The boy looked up, eyes aglow with excitement. The sea was rarely something he got to experience if at all, since MJ was quite young and theoretically had his whole life ahead of him. The unfortunate reality was that he would never feel the real ocean breeze hit his face, he would never be alive again. But the boy didn’t know that, he was young and didn’t understand. The blissful innocence that came with youth was one of the few things that benefited the child.

Bound by their stupidity and recklessness, Mirarî was now confined to a wheelchair for a good.. few months. They had always come to the sea for peace, and it was no different in the afterlife. They had parked their wheelchair next to the lighthouse, head tilting back and feeling the cool breeze on their face.

They exhaled, a content look on their face, leaning back into their wheelchair, when they saw the small boy out of the corner of their eye. Their first instinct was to ignore it- There couldn’t possibly be a child god, but they looked anyways and- Jesus Christ, it was a child. They probably sprained their neck with how fast they turned their head, the rest of their body failing to turn with it.

“Hey! Hey kid, wait up!”

The child swiveled sharply upon hearing another’s voice. Another voice meant another potential friend, and who couldn’t pass up the opportunity for more friends? They met eyes with the other who sat in a wheelchair. Dying so young meant they didn’t have much experience as most would when they died, so the youth had never seen someone handicapped in this way before. It caught them off guard for a brief moment, the small cogs within their brain turning slowly as they tried to figure out how to interact. Upon remembering the other was indeed a human, the child threw care to the wind.

“Hiya! I’m MJ, what’s your name?”the boy shouted, in the usual childish boisterousness. He hopped back down the steps, approaching the wheel chair bound person. His fluffy brown hair bobbed along with his small strides, sneakers hitting the stone stairs with loud thumps. He smiled.

“Hiya there yourself,” they said, trying to appear cheerful or something. Kids preferred cheerful people, right? Too bad optimism wasn’t in their wheelhouse. “I’m Mirarî. What are you doing here all alone?”

“Hi, Mirarî! I wanted to see the big tower!” the child exclaimed, seemingly oblivious to the fact that no one was with them to either look after them or take them home. It was painful in a way, seeing an 8-year-old in this realm. Their short life ripped away so savagely by unknown forces that left them alone. Although, they appeared to be faring much better than if they were to realize they were indeed dead. They gestured excitedly to the lighthouse up ahead.

The boy then looked at the wheelchair, tilting his head. It seemed he was more interested in the aesthetic the chair carried rather than the practicality, but that didn’t stop him from questioning. Why was his new friend sitting down? Why did the chair have wheels? Why did it look so plain?

“I like your ride!” MJ said bluntly. “It looks sad.” The child had just assumed anything on wheels meant it was a vehicle or ride. They associated rides with flashy and glamorous looks, like fiats and Lamborghinis, even thought they didn’t know what either of those companies were, so it was weird to them seeing such a plain looking “vehicle.” Their attention was quickly on the wheelchair and the person who sat within it.

“Ah.. did you?” Mirarî said slowly. They blinked at the sudden compliment, fighting back a snort of laughter. “Thanks.”

So they were stuck in the wheelchair, and looked back at the child.They were genuinely curious. Never had much experience with children, so they mostly treated kids as they would with adults- albeit a little softer. “Why does it look sad?”

The child puckered their face in a thinking gesture. Their large brown eyes squinted as they scrutinized the metal framing. They inched closer, their small stature as a child becoming increasingly apparent as the measured up against the sitting Mirarî. They were almost as tall as the other sitting. After a minute of deep thinking, well, presumably deep thinking, they leaned back, putting their hands on their small hips.

“It’s boring. No colors or stickers,” the boy said, almost complaining as if he owned the wheelchair himself. He closed his eyes briefly, nodding in a confirmation gesture, agreeing to his own assessment. He paused, pouting. His eyes lit up as his attention was drawn to the lighthouse once more. He looked at Mirarî, then at the building again. His brows furrowed as he looked at the wheelchair, the wheels, and the condition of the other’s legs.

So they were stuck in the wheelchair, and looked back at the child.They were genuinely curious. Never had much experience with children, so they mostly treated kids as they would with adults- albeit a little softer. “Why does it look sad?”

Another blink, and this time, they could be stifle their laugh, trying to disguise it as a cough and mostly failing. “Hah! Right- right, you’re right. Pftt.. it was is- haha- boring, huh? ”

They smiled, relaxing somewhat. This wasn’t as bad as they feared, and MJ seemed pretty much fearless. They followed his gaze up the lighthouse steps and back to them, smile dimming a bit. “Ah, yeah, I probably won’t be able to join you, kiddo. Sorry.”

The child stopped, frowning. It wasn’t very nice to leave their new friend down at the bottom of the steps while they sprinted to the lighthouse at the top. In a gesture of solidarity, the small child sat down on the stone steps close enough to Mirarî so they could talk without needing to yell, which they did anyway sometimes. They smiled.

“Oh, that’s okay! I’ll just stay here with you,” the boy said, placing both his hands by his sides. He leaned back against the upwardly trending stone steps. Although, it was boring just sitting there, his mother told him sometimes it isn’t always about him. A small reminder to the child to be more aware of his surroundings, a lesson some have yet to learn. He sniffed at the salty climate, brows furrowing. The light breeze felt nice, especially since the day was warm and the sun beat down on the two.

“Maybe you should decorate it.” The child pointed at the wheelchair once more, their attention span was short as most kids’ their age were.

Oh, that was.. nice of him. Unexpectedly considerate, but then again, they never had spent much time around children. Even in their childhood, they were set on the path of perfection and never allowed to stray from it. Other children were competition, not companions or friends.

“Should I?” Mirarî hummed. “How should I decorate it? Not sure if stickers would last, not sure about markers or pens either.”

The child stood up upon realizing something. Their hand shot into their pocket, rustling around in the what seemed to be endless space. Their big brown eyes lit up as they pulled out a sheet of crumpled stickers, ah yes, the Incredibles. I have no idea where they got them, but they have them now. They held them up in triumph, seemingly ignoring what the other had just said about stickers not lasting.

“Well! We can ask someone else for paints!” He said, smiling. Not bothering to wait for a response, the boy scooted forward, ripping a sticker off from its adhesive sheet and placing a Violet sticker right on the wheel of the wheelchair. His expression beamed, proud of his sticker-placing skills. He began to peel off more and place them.

“Sure we can. Mind if I have a sticker?” The kid was cute, they had to admit that. They guessed MJ was pretty standard for kids- cheerful, easily distracted- but they welcomed the interaction anyways. Too bad that the stickers would probably get ripped off as they wheeled back to the dorms.

The child nodded, eagerly handing the other a sheet of stickers. This time they were Avengers™︎ themed. I have no idea where they got them, frankly. They might have brought only stickers in their suitcase. Something was different around them, an invigorating aura played around the child, most likely a byproduct of their domain, Youth. It appeared to make everything around them younger, whether that was making the grass younger or the stones more polished as if they had not endured years of treading.

“Hey, I think putting them on the armrests and back of the chair would be even cooler,” they commented, not wanting to hurt MJs feelings- but the stickers would be pretty useless once they were shredded on the wheels on the rocks.

“Great idea!” He chirped, peeling off more stickers and situating them on the armrests. MJ stood up, hobbling around to the backside of the wheelchair. His small hands could be felt gently patting the locations of the stickers, further cementing the adhesives in place. It appeared he was very much enjoying himself, and hoped that Mirarî was too.

Mirarî took the stickers, brows furrowing slightly as they noticed the changes around MJ. They shifted in their wheelchair, and it moved… smoother, as the stones were. The air smelled cleaner, and they placed a Hulk sticker on their armrest, glancing at MJ. “Hey… do you notice any differences today? Around you?”

They doubted he did, but still, it couldn’t hurt to ask. And with a child in charge of a power with obvious change, it was better for him to be aware of it, rather than not

The child came back around the front, tilting their head. The question confused them, like most things in the facility.

"No? ... Do I smell weird?" He asked innocently. The boy dropped the used sheets of adhesive backing for a moment to sniff at his clothing. After a thorough smell-through(?), which took about 10 seconds, he looked back up at the other. His young features had a quizzical expression, the big brown eyes reflecting the sun, seemingly sparkling. He picked the sticker backing papers back up and shoved the empty ones into his back pocket of his cargo shorts.

Hmm.. yeah, they figured he wouldn’t notice. They snorted a little when he sniffed himself, shaking their head. “No, you’re fine. It’s just-“

They paused. Words were never their strong suit, and they pursed their lips, speaking slowly. “Your domain.. Did anyone tell you your domain?”

The child looked at Mirarî, tilting their head. Domain? That did sound familiar, the wording. They scrunched their face up as they tried to remember. The pretty fairy lady told them about being a deity… domains were linked with being a deity, right? They frowned, rubbing their chin.

“Oh!” He suddenly exclaimed. “Pretty fairy said something about Youth. Is that what you mean?” MJ was smiling, finally remembering his domain. His chubby face gave a look of pride upon this remembrance, nodding to himself. He then froze, shrinking a bit before settling down on the stone steps.

( Mirarî explains to MJ about the Gods and their "domains." )

“You know how when the superhero finds out their powers, they have to learn to control them? That’s kinda the stage you’re in. You got these super awesome new powers and now you need to learn about them and control them so- So you can help people, yknow?”

The child’s eyes lit up upon hearing the mention of superheroes. They had, of course, seen many hero movies and shows as it was common for young children to watch such things via the internet. It was every child’s dream to somehow develop superpowers which obviously wasn’t ever going to happen, not in their lifetime. They listened with deep interest.

He sat down on the cold steps once more, nodding slowly while the other spoke. So, this meant he had powers, which he had just discovered right then and there. From what Mirarî was saying, he was at the beginning stage and still learning. It was like when Spider-Man first discovered he had superpowers, it took him a solid month to get used to them. For some reason, the superpowers were called a “domain” but that mattered little to the boy.

“Ohh! Do we all have powers? What are your’s? What are mine?” Questions began to crop up, spilling out of the child’s mouth like water from a fountain. The childish curiosity starting to rev its engines, firing up the questionnaire machine within the brain.

“Uhh.. yeah, we all do.” They gave him a slight smile, then leaned forward. “My powers? Well, I was told my domain is Snow, so with that in mind I’m kinda.. like Elsa? Yknow, that Disney snow queen?”

A pause. They pursed their lips, glancing around them. “Not sure about your powers, kiddo. That’s just something you’ll have to figure out- But I’ll help you, don’t worry.”

The child nodded slowly, raising an exaggerated eyebrow upon the mention of a children’s movie. Of course, they had seen Frozen! Anthony had wanted to watch it with his little sister, they were invited and couldn’t reject such a good offer. Free food and a movie! So, Mirarî was like Elsa? Snow powers? That’s so cool!

“Do you have an Olaf too?” He asked eagerly, standing to meet the eyes of the other. He was referring to small, albeit annoying, snowman that accompanied the snow queen’s sister on her search. It was a genuine question, could she make living things out of snow? MJ wanted to know, and he wanted to know badly. As children are, they were impatient, bobbing up and down on the stone steps of the lighthouse.

“Uh.” Mirarî coughed. “How about we figure out your powers first?” They said, giving him a weak smile. “I’ll help you with it, and then you can help me figure out my powers?”

The child tilted their head, big brown eyes wide and full of youth. Hence their domain. Little was known to the kid about domains and powers thus they assumed their powers were similar to that of stereotypical superheroes- lasers, levitating, flying, etc. If only they were older, if only they knew more about life and what it offered.

If. If. If. Such words MJ didn't dwell on, at least not in the way most would expect him to. As with most things he didn't understand, the fact that he died went right over his head. The poor boy was still thinking he was very much alive. I mean, he was breathing and living from his perspective. There really wasn't reason to think otherwise.

"Okay," the child agreed. Once the attention was brought back to them, they were eager. As children usually are, their view was focused mainly on themselves, having not yet gained the awareness that comes with age. Their small brow furrowed, fluffy brown hair obscuring some of the expression.