The three words inscribed on the marble grave was all he could read, all he needed to read. The
thought of this dreadful event had lingered in his mind ever since his mother had told him her life
was in danger. Now, he's able to visualize his thoughts, but this was not a good sight or experience.
Jason Pendrill was the only child of his widowed mother, Hilary Jane Pendrill. Her husband died
when Jason was a toddler, and she swore never to get married again. She moved to the land of
Staider, where no one knew her. Staider was said to be the most developed city in its continent.
There, she raised young Jason all on her own.

***

Jason was staring at his late mother's grave. How she died, or where she died, he had no clue.
He’d only received a call, saying his mother's corpse had been taken to the morgue. The doctors
found no trace of blood on Hilary, and after the autopsy, they found no evidence of murder or
suicide. Then, how did she die? No one knew.
The tears in his eyes kept dripping down his cheeks. There was no one to console him, no one he
could share his pain with, at least no one he was aware of. As he turned back to leave the graveyard,
a girl dressed in a black cloak stood some meters away from him. Her silhouette was all he could
see.
“Who's there?” Jason asked. Even with his mother's death, he was still scared.
The girl stood still, her red hair blowing in the wind. Jason drew closer to her, and asked the
same question again. This time he yelled, but the lady didn't move an inch. He was frustrated, and
so he decided to run out of the graveyard. He got to the gate, trying to escape from the unknown
person, but instead ran into her.
“Hello Jason!” she said.
He looked at the teenage girl, who stood in front of him. He'd never seen such beauty. Her eyes
were red, and her skin pale white.
“How do you know my name?” he asked.
“My name’s Vicila, and I was sent to guide you,” she said.
Jason was in a depressed state, and making friends wasn’t in his to-do list. However, the last part
of Vicilia’s sentence stunned him. A teenage girl wanting to guide me, how ridiculous! He thought
“Guide me? What are you talking about?” he asked.
She inched closer, and said, “I was your mother’s last wish.”
“My mother’s what! How do you know my mother? Again, what are you talking about?” he
asked.
His white skin became red; he wanted to shove her, but her beauty compelled him to remain
calm.
“You shouldn’t be in a place like this,” she said.
“You haven’t answered any of my questions, and now you’re telling me where I shouldn’t stay.”
“I'll explain everything to you, once we are in a comfortable place,” she said.
Jason looked sideways to see if anyone came with the strange girl. Everywhere was silent, not a
single soul was in the graveyard, except the two teenagers. His eyes stared into Vicilia's, and he was
convinced that she was a harmless girl.
“My car's parked outside. Let's go there,” he said. He was interested to hear what the girl had to
say about his mother.
“We won't be using your car. Take my hand,” she said, stretching her left arm.
He looked at her palm, and was confused. Am I blind or something? He thought. There was no
line on the girl's palm. It was white and bare.
“Where are you taking me to,” he asked.
“Don't be afraid. I wont hurt you,” she said.
Hurt me? He silently asked. He couldn't understand how a girl like her could hurt him. He
grasped her palm just to satisfy his curiosity. The second their hands came in contact, a bright light
flashed in the sky, and Jason felt his body evolving, or maybe shrinking. Whichever one it was, he'd
never experienced it before. Vicilia didn't feel anything, she was used to vanishing. His eyes were
shut during the ten seconds journey, and when they opened, he found himself in a strange place.
The entire place was painted white: there was no chair, no desk, nothing. It was an empty room.
The immaculate nature of the room frightened Jason, thus sending chills down his back. He turned
to look around, and found Vicilia dressed in white mafia suit.
“How? When? Where? What? Who the heck are you?” he said.
“I'm your guardian angel,” she said. “This is the entire story: the first thing you should know is
that, you are a god.”
Jason didn't look surprised anymore; his confused looks had run out. Therefore, he remained
quiet and listened to the girl's speech.
“When you were born, there were rumors of you becoming the King of the gods, and this
frightened a group of gods known as the Gazars. Your parents had no other choice but to take away
your powers, and confine it in this.”
She stretched her palm forward and a ring appeared from thin air, and sat on it. The ring looked
strange, or perhaps unique. It was plain gold, but it shone like diamond.
“I've seen that before. It's my mom's,” he said, pointing at the ring.
“Technically, it's yours. So back to my story. When you were four, your dad was killed by a
member of the Gazars because he told the truth,” Vicilia said.
“Which was?” he asked.
“That your godhood had been taken from you. They thought he was lying to protect you. Your
father couldn't fight back because his powers were drained the moment he locked your powers in
this ring, meaning he became a mortal, and so did your mother, because she helped in caging your
powers.“
“You're lying. My mother told me that my father died in a plane crash. This is absurd,” he
muttered. The veins in his forehead were showing due to anger.
“I'm not. This ring you see before you contains your godhood, which only you can withdraw. No
one has the power to steal your godhood from this ring. However, there's a big problem. If this ring
falls into the wrong hands, he or she would have the power to control you.”
Jason glanced around the spotless room, looking for an exit. He was tired of hearing the words
that came out of the girl's mouth.
“You won't find any door or window in this place,” she said. “We cane here so I would guide you
on the journey you're about to take.”
He moved closer to her; her palm was still stretched out, and the ring was sitting on it. “You are
just a girl. How do you know about all these things,” he asked, looking interested.
“You'd be amazed if you knew my age,” she said.
“Try me,” he dared.
“Okay. Add from the day that the world came to existence till now, and from now till the world
ends. That's my age.”
Jason flinched; he was scared.
“It's a lie,” he said.
“Believe what you want to; it doesn't matter. Look, we don't have much time. This ring is why I
brought you here. On the tenth day after your mother's death, the Gazars would go to your place to
take this ring. You mustn't let them get hold of it.”
He looked into her red eyes; she wasn't smiling. She was very serious about everything that came
out of her mouth.
“Okay, so how do I restore my godhood?” he asked.
“That's the spirit,” she said, grinning. “Unfortunately, I don't know how you can do that. Only
you can call it out. If it sees your desire for it, then your godhood would be restored. You just have
to focus.”
He reached for the ring, and she handed it to him. For a long minute, he stared at the beautiful
ring, and wondered if the girl was actually saying the truth.
“Lastly, do not.....”


“Jason wake up. It's time for school,” Hillary called, as her thumb caressed the gold ring on her
ring finger.