Imposter Syndrome

Viglio

"Powerful people—"

Gianna's words echoed in her brain as she placed her hand atop the girl's shoulder. "This might involve..." Sofie paused, searching for the right words—

"Magic—I know—" came the huffed response.

Of course, it should not have come as a surprise to Sofie that the storefront's glass was imbued with anti-breakage enchantments. Sofie made a mental note to investigate the exact properties of said formula later, when she had more time. Or if she had more time.

"This place is super nice," Gianna added, staring at the tapestried unicorn. "Did it just—move?" She stepped closer to examine the artwork. Sofie nodded.

"His name's Larry."

"Oh, ok, right. Um. Hi. Larry."

"Nice to meet you." The unicorn gave a curt nod, then resumed nibbling on bits of dandelion.

"You're taking this surprisingly well," Sofie couldn't help but remark. One hour ago, they were convened in her kitchen, with a quick bedroom detour for disguises—outfits that appeared different than their everyday wear—just in case. Then, Sofie had taken a chance, grasping Gianna's arm as they moved through melted time and space, landing squarely within the Florentine Goddess League enclave.

"Capsules?" Sofie called out to Gianna, who maintained a steely grip on a canvas tote.

"Check."

"The metallics?"

"Check."

"Heat rings?"

"Check."

"Reconstructive blueprints?"

Gianna pointed to her temple. "Check."

"Oh, ok. Ok then..." Sofie took a deep breath, reaching again for Gianna's arm. Let's do this—

Rust rose walls fell away, the multicolored glass cup curio too, the geometric patterns shifting, its emerald hue replaced with a warm peridot, more angular and elongated. Grass. Pastures. And further out, manicured lawn. A manor, tall and stately, with far too many windows and pillars to count. A swimming pool in the distance, its water a deep cobalt, likely from its unique sea salt content—

Trees—clusters upon clusters of bright yellow blossoms—

Their feet landed softly, tumbling upon a pile of leaves, each emitting an unfamiliar, though not unpleasant, scent.

"Is that..." Sofie paused, sniffing her surroundings. "Lemon? And...honeysuckle?"

Gianna shook her head. "Linden trees. Very Vincenzia. For tea," she added, noting Sofie's puzzled expression. "My late grandmother harvested them for whenever I had a cold. She was rather good at brewing it too."

Huh.

"Everything in place?" Suits, outerwear, et cetera? To play the part of a lifetime?

Gianna grinned. "Hells, yeah," she whispered as the pair tore through forest, field, and orchard, making their way to the front entrance which seemed quite close, and yet, not nearly close enough—

"Fermare! Chi va li?" Stop! Who goes there?

Rather than flee, both remained stock-still, having had prepared for such moments. It was Sofie's turn, as she closed her eyes, smiling—

The guard's uniform was a dark stylish hue, his muscles well-honed from hours spent weightlifting, a monotonous yet oddly meditative exercise.

It's ok. We are friends. We are here to serve and protect.

The guard blinked, a pleasant though unfocused expression decorating his visage. "Benvenuto, entra!" Welcome, come in. The pair followed the burly main into the palatial interior, decorated with various plaster and marble bas-reliefs every which way.

How very...Greco-Roman, Sofie mused, as she paused on the banister. Take us to Antonio—

And the guard proceeded to do so, winding his way past a balustrade, its pillar covered in ornate crown molding etched in what appeared to be gold film. Twenty-four karat gold? Sofie glanced over at Gianna.

Coming to a halt outside a tall door, matching so many others like it, he knocked, his raps echoing skyward toward an expensive-looking Swarovski swan chandelier, its pear-cut gems positively scintillating. "Antonio!" You have guests.

'Go into Venezia,' she murmured, the words permeating the guard's skin, past the blood-brain barrier, into his cerebral cortex. 'Go far away, and do not return—for awhile—we will take over—all is well...'

"Vieni dentro!" came the reply. Come on in.

So they did, carefully, cautiously so. Where were they? A canopied bed, its ivory shades drawn to their sides, an expansive window, displaying a glorious view of the Linden forest from whence they came—but where was he?

Soon enough, they had their answer, having heard movement from behind yet another door. Pushing it open, Gianna stepped in. Sofie made to as well, but the pixie-haired woman shook her head. This is my battle to fight, her eyes seemed to say.

Ok fine, Sofie's mouth tightened into a thin line. But I'm keeping watch.

"Gianna..." he smirked, spotting the lady before him. "Non ne hai mai abbastanza di me?" Couldn't get enough of me?

Ugh, what a pig! Gianna fought hard to mask her feelings of disgust, her stomach clenching. Here, in the literal flesh, was the bane of her existence. The man who, not so long ago, took a brick to her grandfather's property. The one who'd catcalled her day in and day out, until she'd cursed him into oblivion in front of everyone present. Everyone present, who remonstrated her for days afterward, stating she'd been unfair to the guy.

Screw that. Screw them all. Antonio appeared to be taking a long bath. Gazing away from his form, she realized they were in a fancy en suite bathroom whose wallpaper vaguely resembled a mix of retro Martha Stewart and Dante's ninth circle of hell. Of course, this was in an alabaster hue as to not offend his family's conservative decorating tastes.

Regardless, she would give him one last chance. "Antonio, ti dispiace?" Are you sorry?

His smirk only deepened. "Scusa se non ti ho catturato." Only sorry I didn't capture you—

Gianna reached within her bag, pulling out a metallic object she now cradled in her palm, loaded with a single aqua capsule. Eyeing her target once more, she muttered low. "Giustizia per le donne ovunque." Justice for women everywhere—

As if in slow motion, her finger slid back, pulling the trigger, as the lone macro molecule sprung forth, Antonio's leer never once halting, even for a second—for he thought it only a paintball—

"We need to leave!" Sofie hissed, still standing guard, staring through a crack in the doorway. Once the target had met its match, Gianna fled the room, linking arms with Sofie, vanishing with a crack just as a knock was heard outside his bedroom door—

Rust rose pink, geometric green patterned upholstery, Murano glass and a curio—

They opened their eyes, finding themselves back at the Florentine Goddess League Office, Larry chuckling softly. "Not bad, ladies. Not bad at all!"