There was a lot to digest. First his mom was dead but she wasn’t seeing she’d appeared to him and they’d stayed up most of the night drinking coffee and talking about where he’s from, the dad he never met and what’d happened to her so he’d know it wasn’t as horrendous as everyone else thought… he could go on and on making her not your average ghost or more accurately not a ghost at all. Was she a volcano goddess, Hephaesta, Hephaestusa, Vulcana – wait, wrong planet – Volcana for volcano that wasn’t her nemesis as it turned out, but now he’d have to google Greek gods to see the Roman name. So dad was special, a fire being of sorts, and his mom was, well, had always been different. He couldn’t keep up at the same time he didn’t want to. It was all kind of cool… in a hot lava way.
An affinity with volcanos means great power. As reveling in the thought tried to sneak up on Que, he was all too aware that would mean a responsibility that would show itself as he grew, and most importantly he didn’t want to learn it the hard way. You don’t get something like that for free. The fine print was obviously going to have to do with self-control.
It occurred to him in the midst of everything swirling through his brain responsibility had just introduced itself.