The Shadow Game

Water drummed against the ceramic surface of the bath, striking a low refrain. Steam wafted gently upwards, curling against the roof of the bathroom to fill it with a thick layer of moisture which clung to the skin. The door was closed and locked, and Lyra was alone in the house. She knew she was because she had waited carefully for it to be so. Both her mother and father were quite busy nowadays. They were important people in the New Ember City government. Or, well, outside of it in the case of her father. But _officially _outside of it. As for her mother, she basically ran the League of Heroes nowadays even if she'd taken a step back from the actual hands on work of patrolling the streets.

At eighteen years old, Lyra had known that her parents were special for as long as she had known anything at all. Well, any kid thought that their parents were special. But in her case, they really had been. To her, her father had always been ''Dad'' or sometimes ''Alexi'' if she was feeling particularly formal. To the rest of the world, he was Dusklord. Former arch-villain and one of the most powerful supers in the city. A man who could command living darkness, and who was quite possibly one of the most dangerous humans alive today. Her mother by contrast was Redwing, former pupil of Avatar, the strongest hero in all of history (At least according to her mother) and widely regarded as one of the most respected heroes in all of New Ember City.

It was tough as a kid to live up to things like that. Luckily, Lyra had never really tried. When she was young, she'd baffled the other kids by saying she didn't want to be a superhero. Their confusion had baffled her in turn. Why would you want to work in a job where people regularly tried to leave you bleeding in alleys? Maybe they didn't technically go for the kill a lot nowadays, but even then it wasn't exactly great for the health! Being a hero was hard. She'd seen it in both her parents. You had to constantly practice with your power, refining it and learning to control it like an athlete. You were constantly on call, day and night, you had no real life beyond it.

Not to mention that your social life was beyond messed up - Alexi and Lilly, her mother, had met because they were enemies for several years! Now obviously, she was glad that they had. The whole ''being born'' thing. But still. What did it say about your social situation when the closest person to you was the person who had tried to kill you for the last few years?

So, she had decided early on that she wasn't going to be a hero. She was going to be a lawyer maybe, or maybe a doctor. Something that paid you very well for a role that didn't involve regularly facing people who wanted to beat you down and leave you bloody and probably missing your wallet.

She had no desire to be a hero, but sometimes it was fun to pretend. As the warm steam washed across her body, Lyra turned to view the body-length mirror set into the far wall. She was young looking. eighteen years old with dark hair which fell to her shoulders. Her skin was pale white, almost unhealthy looking. There was nothing that could be done about that, though. it was genetic. Her father had it too. It was tied to the origins of his powers. Her eyes were emerald green, and her features were fair. she was dressed in a short skirt and shirt. She stood back, observing herself critically as she did. Her legs were long. She was thin, lithe. Another aspect of the power that she had been granted, though this time from her mother. Redwing's power was fire, and her body naturally burned additionally calories to help fuel it. She could eat as much as she wanted and never put on weight.

Lyra didn't have the power of fire, but it seemed she'd managed to grab this aspect of it, anyway. But she was not sure if she liked the fact that she had. True, she would not put on wight, but her body would always be smaller than it could have been otherwise. It wasn't medically dangerous, but she was short and thin, and likely to remain that way. Not to mention - and she would die before admitting this to anyone - it meant that her chest was probably always going to be small. It was a childish thing to worry over, but Lyra had never quite been able to banish it from her mind.

She felt a slight nervous twitch as she looked at herself in the mirror. It would be nice to say that she saw a confident, powerful woman. It would also be untrue. She was a teen not yet come into her own. Her body felt strange to her still, like a suit she'd not grown into. She didn't like how thin she was. She didn't like how small her chest was. She thought her legs were too long, and her skin was too pale.

She tried to put all of that out of her mind for today. Today, she was going to have some fun with her body. Her parents were away, and she didn't have a boyfriend, but that didn't mean she couldn't push her limits a little. The sound of the water drumming against the ceramic bath put her at ease, and beside her there was a plastic bag full of various items that she had carefully concealed in her room.

She looked at herself in the mirror and caught her breath. There was a slight tinge of red to her cheeks. She'd been looking forward to this for the last few days.

It was time to begin.