Deceiver

Chapter 1

Maeia

It was one of those positively miserable days where I woke up sweaty and simply never got un-sweaty, which will ruin a day completely, regardless of any good things that happen. I heard a short, soft knock at the door. Saeya.

"Maeia, please. Don't make me late to the market again," my roommate groaned against the door, knowing that my cart was the only way either of us would make it in time. I stood from my bed, taking in the objects and treasures I had to sell this dreadful morning, my trove stretching above my head to kiss the ceiling. Stolen goods, all of them. Some just gold, some just magical, and some both. Gold was too expensive to sell and re-sell after the collapse, and the riches I traded would only re-enter the homes of the very wealthy once I sold them, so I was able to justify my occupation to myself, at least. I wasn't the one stealing them, so it wasn't my problem.

Even if I had been stealing, I could justify it then too. Magic had been slowly leaving this world as the supply we previously thought unlimited became spent. Public transport and utilities had been the first to go. Magical objects remained unaffected, a remnant of a time gone by reserved for the very ones responsible for the fall of magic in the first place. My revenge was in my livelihood.

Saeya didn't know what I did. I dropped her and her vegetables at the front of the market, and she acknowledged that it was better that she wasn't aware of how I survived, didn't question me. She had her garden, and I had the skeletons in my closet. I protected her from a long list of things. I happened to be number one.

I dragged my bag of stolen beauties down the stairs, and Saeya followed, eyes distant, not paying attention to the contents of the bag in the least. We loaded the cart in silence, as we always did, quietly hoisting our wares into the trunk. The cart groaned as we loaded more into them.

"Go on Pozu," I whispered, and the cart began to grumble their way down the road. Pozu was my cart. They did not belong to me, but they came to me through my trade. I knew nothing of the cart's origins, and Pozu had no way to tell me, so we coexisted in ignorance. It is not often you find a magical cart, and I didn't want to anger them. It wasn't worth asking around in case someone wanted them back, a possibility I wasn't willing to risk.

Something felt wrong as I let Saeya and her veggies off the cart, but I said nothing. Something always felt wrong. The precipice of death or capture was always a hair closer than I would've liked. I helped her lift her veggies out of the trunk and then hoisted my goods out behind her, piling objects where they belonged in the stall, hidden unless someone knew what they were looking for. I was continuing my tedious set up when I heard someone approaching very carefully from behind.

"Someone doesn't want to be heard," I said as I turned slowly, expecting Saeya behind me, sneaking up, and paled. Two very heavily armed dwarven men stood in front of me. "You're not Saeya," I whispered. "I assume you're not here to buy gold, are you?" There was no reply. "Alright then." They glanced at me, behind me, and then at me again before the shorter dwarf lunged at me, dagger in hand. I lunged back, panicking.

I snapped my fingers and Pozu reloaded themself and hurtled down the street, an emergency feature I had not been aware of for many years, and I hurtled after the little cart as they sped. The dwarven mercenaries gave chase, and my little legs were no match. I began ducking down street after street, letting Pozu get ahead. I was not built for brisk runs, and I would suffer because of it, especially because the dwarves knew the streets just as well as I did. I wondered what I had stolen to invoke this wrath against myself, but as I slowed in thought, the mercenaries gained on me, so I forgot about it. I ran for what felt like miles until I spotted the little alley behind my mother's favorite store, a plant store that had gone out of business years before.