HEROGIRL

chapter 3: The first spark of power

The next few days were a blur of fear and discovery.

Amara tried to hide her new abilities, but it was nearly impossible. Her strength frightened her most—what if she accidentally hurt someone? When she carried flour sacks for her father, she realized she could lift them as if they were filled with feathers. She forced herself to strain, pretending the weight was real, her arms trembling on purpose.

Her parents noticed she seemed distracted.

“You’re quieter than usual,” her mother remarked one evening. “Are you sick?”

“No,” Amara lied quickly. “Just tired from schoolwork.”

But she wasn’t tired. In truth, she couldn’t sit still. The star’s energy pulsed inside her constantly, urging her to move, to run, to fly.

At night, she tested her abilities in secret. She discovered she could leap over the tallest tree in the meadow. She could run so fast her feet barely touched the grass. Her skin, when she fell or scraped herself, healed almost instantly.

And then there was the light.

It began when she grew frustrated during practice, clenching her fists. Silver sparks danced across her skin, leaping like tiny flames. She gasped, opening her palm, and the star-shaped mark glowed brighter. A faint sphere of silver light formed above her hand, humming softly like a heartbeat.

She nearly dropped it in fright, and it vanished.

But the truth was undeniable: she carried the star’s power inside her.

Still, fear lingered. Who could she tell? What if her parents found out? Would they be proud—or terrified? Would they still see her as their daughter, or as something dangerous?

She decided to keep her secret locked tight.

But secrets, she would soon learn, have a way of unraveling.

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Three nights later, she heard the scream.

It came from the town square, sharp and desperate. Amara froze in bed, heart racing. She peeked out her window and saw shadows moving unnaturally fast near the fountain.

Her instincts screamed at her. She couldn’t ignore it.

She slipped into her clothes and ran out the back door, her bare feet silent on the cobblestones. As she drew closer, she saw them—shapes of black smoke, twisting like serpents, surrounding an old man. He swung a cane at them, but it passed through harmlessly.

Amara’s stomach knotted. She felt the star’s mark burn on her palm.

Without thinking, she charged.

The shadows hissed as she swung her arm, and to her shock, silver light flared from her fist. The energy blasted the nearest creature apart like smoke in the wind. The others shrieked and lunged at her, but she leapt into the air, dodging effortlessly.

Her body moved as if guided by instinct. Every punch sent silver sparks exploding. Every movement felt natural, as though she had trained for this moment her entire life.

In less than a minute, the shadows dissolved into nothing, leaving only silence.

The old man stared at her, wide-eyed. “W-what are you?” he whispered.

Amara’s heart pounded. She wanted to answer, but fear gripped her. She turned and soared into the night sky, vanishing before he could say another word.

As she landed breathlessly in the meadow, she sank to her knees.

“What am I?” she whispered to herself.

And far away, in the darkness beyond the hills, something stirred.