The Crowns of the Gods.

Fire-Blair-Hades daughter

As dusk settled over the small town, a girl with fire in her soul and hope in her heart walked along a dimly lit road. Autumn in Boston, Massachusetts, grew colder with each passing year, sending a chill that made her pull her coat tighter around her. She continued to push her cart full of groceries down the street, the wheels creaking softly on the pavement. Beside her, her faithful dog—her only true companion on this chilly fall evening—walked with his tail held high, his breath visible in the crisp air.

Unseen creatures lurked in the shadows, displeased by the dog's constant presence. They searched for an opportunity to seize her, but the dog never left her side, his protective stance a silent defiance against the lurking darkness.

The girl was acutely aware of her pursuers. She knew they were real, and that knowledge was enough to keep her senses sharp and her movements cautious. They scoured every corner of the world, every crevasse, in search of the Four Crowns. The Four Crowns of the Gods had been lost in a battle centuries before the gods began their twelve-century-old war. Sought by every creature, both dark and light, these crowns held immense power. They had the potential to bring peace among the gods, but they could also tear them apart forever.

The girl continued down the street, becoming increasingly aware of the monsters following her. Each step felt heavier, the air growing colder and more oppressive. Her head whipped from side to side, making her brown and red hair flip back and forth like a frantic pendulum. The streetlights cast eerie, elongated shadows that writhed and slithered, distorting the familiar surroundings into something sinister. Her blonde standard poodle, who had been happily trotting alongside her, now growled at the dark shadows, his tail standing alert and fur bristling. His growl was low and menacing, a stark contrast to his usually cheerful demeanor. The girl's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the sense of impending danger grew stronger with each passing moment.

"Easy, boy," the girl whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. "We're almost home; they can't attack us on holy grounds." The dog barked in response, a sharp, protective sound that echoed in the quiet of the evening. As they turned into the cemetery, the weathered stone walls of the barrier rose up, blocking out the looming shadow of a demon that had lunged for the girl's hoodie moments before.

A cemetery was a strange home for an even stranger girl. Here, among the ancient headstones and whispering trees, she found solace amidst the echoes of the past and the peace of the departed.

She never felt she belonged anywhere except among the heroes resting in peace at the Hero's Cemetery—figures she had idolized and obsessed over since childhood. With a soft utterance, 'Imnata,' everything in her cart vanished. A smile spread across her face as she extended her hand. 'Omnata, Coca-Cola.' Her favorite soda can flew into her grasp. With her faithful dog by her side, they strolled to her cherished spot in the cemetery.

Near her sanctuary, Hercules' grave stood adjacent to a towering willow, a gift from the Gods. The ancient tree's branches cascaded gracefully, offering a protective embrace over the sacred ground. Beneath its comforting shade, she spent hours each day, pondering why she had grown distant from her family. The rustling of the willow's leaves seemed to whisper ancient secrets, echoing the solemnity and reverence of the cemetery that had become her refuge.

She loved the demi-gods and the gods and goddesses when she was a child. There wasn't a day that went by without her talking about them or trying to educate others about their tales. Her parents never understood her obsession; they often told her that no one knew if these figures had ever truly existed. But she believed. She knew they were real, and she was determined to prove it.

As she grew older, she delved deep into research, poring over ancient texts and obscure manuscripts. Every myth she had read about the demi-gods mentioned a sacred cemetery where the most loyal and courageous heroes were laid to rest. This place, untouched by darkness, was a sanctuary of love and acceptance—qualities foreign to the malevolent creatures lurking beyond its protective barriers.