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Ace
Today was Ace’s re-birthday. Rebornday? Alive-again-against-her-will-day? It didn’t matter. She tried not to think about it. Or about anything that led tothat. To death. To waking up in a puddle of her own sweat and blood in a body she hardly recognized.
Ugh, here she was thinking about it even after she swore to herself and the gods that she wouldn’t.Honestly, it was a miracle she could think at all with the commotion inside of her head.
Near the crowded market, she could hear the people’s whispered requests to the gods in an overlapping chorus inside her mind. Answering prayers was almost like being able to read minds. Whatever people desired they spoke to the gods about. Often the girl with the scar across her throat and the hood pulled tight over her not-quite straight, not-quite curly brown hair could use those desires to her advantage.
Mix those prayers with the mumblings of the gods themselves and she had herself a headache. To focus on one voice inside her head required more energy than she was prepared to offer so she tried to let her own thoughts get lost in the ruckus. Relentlessly, they would come back though.Stupid, morbid, unhelpful thoughts.She tried to lose herself to the prayers instead.
Maipeg, the capital city of Pasia, was buzzing with excitement. It was always buzzing with something. Change nipped at the air like a late autumn breeze. The citizens there could feel it just as well as Ace.
People were praying all over the place today, making her so-called gift hard to ignore. The gods wanted her to hear them, to act in their name. More often than not she didn't like to answer the gods and forbade herself from helping. Not that there wasn’t ever an exception but when those came along it was of her own free will to help.
Carriage wheels ground rocks into the road; their horses snorted and whinnied as they forced themselves around the onslaught of citizens crowding the street. The busy market across the road was filled with people. Shoulder to shoulder people. She hated people almost more than she hated thinking about her new-not-really-a-birth-day.
Using the shadows of the alley to her advantage, she made a show of cleaning her nails with a pocket knife she'd stolen weeks ago. Her body tipped with an easy lean into the nearest building, a relaxed apathetic pose. To the passing crowd, she was only lounging, waiting for a friend or some other trivial thing 'normal' people got to do. In reality, she watched her target.
People walked in and out of Ace’s line of sight making it painfully annoying to watch the warlock’s stall, filled with large grimoires. The grimoire she'd been using before had been empty for a few days, the used pages withering to ash as the spells were used. She itched for another. She didn't have any magic of her own but that didn’t matter when the magic wasinthe books.
Dark magic, specifically any spells that were actually fun in Ace’s opinion, had long since been forbidden by the four queens that ruled this very nation. All they allowed the citizens were the simplest of spells, such as those that helped with housework, quick cooking, or the most basic of body modifications. That didn't mean that dark magic didn't exist though. And breaking any rules set by the queens gave Ace the best sort of high that no drug or alcohol could compare to.
"God rest the souls of the men that marry those wretched beings," a mother whispered to her daughter as she stared at the decrees littering every flat surface the queens’ watch had been able to pin them to.
"I wish I could be a queen," the child said hopefully, to which the mother frowned. Ace assumed the woman was aware of how much a person could be affected by the power that came with a crown.
No sane mother would wish that on their child no matter how much wealth came with the job. Not after the country of Pasia watched as four seemingly regular girls had fought off the Fae and became leaders practically overnight. But that's a story for another time.
Playfully the mother tugged at the child’s hood before steering her away. They both wore cloaks, the same as Ace, but theirs were more brightly colored. The thin material was great for keeping cool while also protecting their skin from the blazing sun. Ace was just thankful it helped her hide.
The girl in the alley took a deep breath trying not to think too hard on the details of the queens’ rise to power, because when she did it made the holy fire in her burn a little hotter. The thoughts could not be avoided today, no matter how hard she tried. The citizen’s prayers bombarded her, the prospect of a future king and heir giving them something to focus on other than their mundane lives. Some men prayed for their opportunity to be welcomed into the castle as king. Other men, the smarter ones, prayed the Queens wouldn't favor them.
Pulling her hood closer to her face, she hid her features as she peered across the street and waited for her opportunity to come. Guardsmen patrolled the streets, or more so they idled around, eyes only searching the crowd for their relief. It was nearing their shift change and that was when she would strike.
She never quite understood why the guards' patrol was even necessary. All Fae were kept out of the country by the wall the queens had built around them, the stone all infused with their god-given magic. The most the guard did was take in anyone they thought could be infected by the Impelling—a poison to the mind that allowed the Fae to control the affected person's actions. No one came back from that. Not that she was surprised.
She lowered her lashes as she scanned her surroundings, never letting her eyes settle on one thing or person for too long. Specifically, she tried not to let her attention wander back to the guards. That might only give her away. Though the men were just human she disliked them almost as much as she hated the queens. She didn’t have sympathy for those vile men who all too often took innocent people away.
The crowd around her was relentless with their prayers. Desperate voices called out to the gods. Each time she could feel their desires as if they were her own, shaking her down to her very core. An eerie feeling that left a bitter taste on the back of her tongue. The first time it had happened it had been startling but after some time she'd gotten used to pushing those foreign desires away. Ignoring the gods wasn’t exactly a smart thing to do but she was mad at them. Mad at everyone.
Makeme king.
Give me food.
Provide me money.
Send me help.
Me. Me. Me. That's all people care about. Themselves.
The prayers weren't even the worst thing to have happened to her. Coming back to life after her throat had been slit had been the worst. She'd died. At first, she'd been upset about that fact but once she felt how peaceful the afterlife had been she no longer cared. If only those stupid, selfish gods hadn't forced her to walk through holy fire and back to the realm of the living to do their bidding.
She was done doing what others asked of her without question, though. Anyone could break your trust. Anyone. And she had let that one festering thought fuel her every day. So she ignored the gods even when it wore on her will.
All these prayers to be king or not to be king and not one of them is directly pointed to me.Sylik, the god of wealth and fortune, grumbled.
How sad for you.Greshta the goddess of power purred in response. Ace had no doubt Greshta didn't mean a word she said.
Sylik and Greshta were often the most vocal of the gods that lived inside of her head. The two of them were always at war with one another. Other gods, Fareesh, the god of healing and health, Tamar the goddess of beauty, and Nathalian the god of nourishment were pretty vocal too. Then there were the lesser gods with their specific niches that would occasionally reach out for her to do their bidding. It was always the smaller gods that got the angriest when she declined to answer.
