Marvel: Silver Hand

The early evening sun cast long shadows over the quiet streets of Snow Valley as Alexander stepped off the school bus. His backpack felt heavier than usual, though that might've been the result of an exhausting day at school. Grade 8 wasn't anything like he'd expected—it was more work, more stress, and way more awkward moments. At least he had Sophie, who'd been his best friend since his fist day of school at Snow Valley. She always made things easier to handle.

Walking up the short path to the house, he noticed the curtains in the living room were slightly open, revealing a faint golden glow from inside. He opened the door to the familiar scent of home—something warm and comforting. His mom's voice greeted him from the kitchen.

"Hey, sweetheart," Sophia called, her voice softer and more relaxed than it had been in years.

"Hi, Mom," Alexander replied, setting his bag down by the door and walking into the kitchen. His mom was leaning against the counter, wearing the usual mask that covered most of her face, hiding the scars left by the fire. She looked better than she had in years, her posture more confident and her movements steady.

"I made dinner earlier. It's in the oven," she said, gesturing toward it. "I'm heading to bed now. Long day."

"Okay, thanks, Mom. Sleep well," he said with a smile.

She gave him a small nod before retreating to her room. Alexander stood there for a moment, looking at the oven, but decided he wasn't hungry yet. He trudged upstairs to his room, kicking off his sneakers as he entered.

Alexander's room was a reflection of a 13-year-old trying to figure himself out. The walls were lined with posters of his favorite superheroes, and his shelves were cluttered with comic books, a few trophies from elementary school, and random knick-knacks he'd collected over the years.

He pulled off his school clothes, now slightly tight around his growing frame, and tossed them into a corner. At 5'7", he was taller than most kids his age, though he still hadn't grown into his height. His skinny frame and average features didn't exactly make him stand out, but he didn't care much.

Grabbing some clean clothes, he headed to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water was a welcome relief, washing away the day's stress. The sound of the water rushing over his ears made him feel like he was in his own little world.

He was halfway through rinsing his hair when he heard the bathroom door creak open. For a second, he froze, thinking it might be his mom or Aunt Clara. It wasn't the first time one of them had accidentally walked in on him.

"Uh, occupied," he called out, but the door didn't close.

Shrugging it off, he finished up, turned off the water, and pulled the curtain back to grab a towel.

And then he froze.

Standing in the bathroom was a girl about his age—or older, it was hard to tell—staring at him with wide blue eyes. Her brown hair fell in soft waves around her face, and she was wearing what looked like a school uniform. For a moment, neither of them moved, and then she let out a high-pitched scream.

"AHHHHHH!"

Alexander stumbled back, nearly slipping in the tub. "AHHHHHH!"

The girl bolted out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Alexander stood there, dripping wet and completely flustered. He grabbed a towel, dried off, and quickly threw on his clothes.

When he went downstairs, he found the girl sitting on the couch, her cheeks red as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt. She looked up when he entered, her expression still a mix of embarrassment and awkwardness.

"Uh… sorry about that," Alexander mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

"It's okay," she said quickly. "It's my fault. I didn't know anyone was in there."

Before either of them could say more, Clara entered the room, carrying a stack of papers. She stopped when she saw them, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Oh, good, you've met," she said, her voice light but tinged with curiosity.

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "Uh… yeah, I guess."

Clara placed the papers on the table and gestured to the girl. "Alex, this is Emma Frost. She's one of my students at the Snow Valley School for Girls. She's going to be coming here a few times a week to study with me."

Emma gave him a polite nod, her confidence returning. "Hi."

"Hi," Alexander replied, still feeling awkward.

Clara turned to him, her tone suddenly stern. "Emma is older than you—she's sixteen and in the tenth grade. You'll listen to her and show her respect, understood?"

Alexander nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Good. Now, go finish your homework or read a comic or something."

Alexander muttered a quick "okay" and retreated to his room, glad to be away from the awkwardness. He grabbed a comic book off his shelf and flopped onto his bed, flipping through the pages.

Later that night, Alexander lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The day had been weird, to say the least. But as his eyes grew heavy, he found himself thinking of his mom, of how much better she seemed, and how life—despite everything—was starting to feel normal again.

In the corner of the house, Celebrimbor stood silently in his incorporeal form, observing. Though Alexander couldn't see or hear him, Celebrimbor's gaze was fixed on the boy. There was a quiet strength growing within him, and for reasons even Celebrimbor couldn't quite explain, he felt pride.