Her True Nature

   Diana walked alone beneath the trees.  She didn't know how long she'd been walking, or exactly where she was.  A large park lay downhill on her right, with dozens of children playing in the sunshine.
   Children, Diana thought.  Until I moved to the United States, I'd never seen children before.  I was the last-born of my kind, and there wasn't anyone else my age. I was the lone little girl, with a thousand older sisters. I played for hours on the beach; I climbed every tree my mother would allow; I swam as far out from the island as I could.  I was innocent.  Why can't I go back?
   Diana felt a heaviness in her chest; a pain that she'd never known before.  It was guilt, she realized.  Guilt over what she'd done, and what she'd come very close to doing.
   It is an Amazon's way to slay her enemies.  Though the Amazons favor peace above all, when their lives are truly threatened, there are few more brutal.  The more intense the battle, the more feral an Amazon's blood-rage.
   Diana felt helpless.  The same rage against domination that fueled her sisters' warrior pride flowed within her veins.  Deadshot's attempt to beat her down triggered that rage, and Diana was not prepared to counter it.  In that moment, she wanted to end his life.  She wasn't sure exactly why, either.  Part of her felt that it was because of a righteous anger against him for endangering innocent lives, but another part of her worried that it was simply a selfish fury.  If Clark hadn't been there, she wouldn't have stopped.  That fact scared her.
   She sat down under the shade of a tree and looked herself over.  Her jacket was in tatters.  She took it off.  She looked at her arm.  The burn from before was gone.  Along that same arm, she looked at the places where she'd been cut and bleeding before.  To her shock and surprise, each and every cut was completely healed.  Strangely, though, a thin crust of sand covered each former wound, like a bandage.  She looked at her jacket again—not a single bloodstain was found, despite the fact that it had been nearly soaked in a few places before.  The entire interior of the jacket was sprinkled with sand, however.  Some of it was even embedded in the fabric itself.  She rubbed the sand between her fingertips; it was familiar.  Thin, pale, and smooth.  Exactly like the beaches of Paradise Island.
   A small sound broke into her thoughts.  A little boy, twenty feet away, sat by himself, crying.  Diana felt a surge of concern for him.  She stood up and walked over, tossing her jacket into a trashcan on the way.  She quietly sat down next to him.
   "What's wrong?"
   The boy turned his head and looked up at her, his eyes red and swollen from tears.  He bashfully ducked his head back down and covered it with his hands.
   "Hey, it's okay," Diana assured him.
   He slowly started to lower his hands, though he kept looking down.
   "My name's Diana. What's yours?"
   "Jamie," the boy said, peering up hesitantly at her.
   Diana gave him a big smile, and he blushed a little.
   "How old are you?" she asked.
   "Seven."
   "I remember being seven. It was fun."
   "You didn't have mean friends, then."
   Diana frowned.  She actually didn't have any real friends at all when she was that young.
   "Your friends are mean to you?"
   Jamie nodded.  "They told me I can't play football with them."
   Diana looked across the park and saw a group of boys about Jamie's age playing football.  Or trying to, at least.  They weren't really old enough to be very coordinated, and sort of tumbled into one another.  Diana sighed.  Football.  She'd never really understood the appeal of that sport.  Why did the players feel the need to ram into one another?  Didn't it make more sense just to maneuver around each other?  Clark had tried to explain it to her once, but she didn't quite follow.
   "Why won't they let you play?"
   "'Cause I'm smaller than they are, and I'll get knocked over."
   Diana thought for a moment.
   "Can you run?"
   Jamie nodded.
   "Okay, then.  Why don't you just try and run around them instead of running into them?"
   Jamie was confused.  "Why would I do that?"
   "Because," Diana explained, "you're trying to get the ball to one side of the field, right?  If you're the one with the ball, it doesn't matter if you hit anyone."
   "Oh yeah."
   Jamie sat thinking for a while.  "But... how can I get them to let me play?"
   Diana winked at him.  "Don't let them take no for an answer."
   Jamie almost blushed again, but he felt enough pride that he was able to keep it down.  He stood up with a big smile, then turned and ran to meet the other boys.
   "Thank you," a voice said from behind.
   Diana turned around and looked up to see a woman standing behind her.
   "Jamie's had trouble with the other boys for a while now.  This is the first time I've ever seen him try and stand up for himself before."
   Diana stood up.  This must be the boy's mother.
   "Um, well, you're welcome, ma'am," Diana said awkwardly.
   The woman smiled at her.  "Really, thank you."
   Jamie's mother walked downhill to follow her son, leaving Diana happy, yet puzzled.
   "Your true power is not in violence, Diana Prince."
   Diana turned quickly to see a man standing under the shadow of a tree.  He wore a dark blue cape over a navy business suit, and a matching navy hat that cast a black shadow over his eyes.  A golden amulet hung from his neck.
   "Your true gift is in gentle kindness."
   Diana was slightly alarmed.  "Who are you?!" she asked abruptly.
   "I am merely a guide," the man said.  "Nothing more."
   He stepped deeper into the shadow behind the tree, moving out of Diana's view.  When she tried to follow him, she found nothing.  He had simply vanished.