Genius. Prodigy. One in a thousand. Paragon. Epitome. Overwhelming talent.
Words that I've always heard.
No, words that I've always wanted to hear.
I don't know if I'm crying, or if it's just the rain dripping down my face. All I know is that I feel pain. A stinging, burning pain in my chest.
I want people to praise me too.
I want to be something too.
But reality is cruel. The world is unforgiving.
It's like that one saying...
"The rich get richer, the poor stay poor."
Tell me, you cruel god... if you hate me so much, why did you even let me be born in the first place?
A sword pierced through her heart. Then another. And another. Blades tore through her body, one after another, until a final swing tried to slice her head clean off as she struggled—struggled to break free, struggled to live.
"Just die already!"
"She can't die unless we cut off her head!"
"Keep going! We can't let her regenerate!"
Why? Why is everything against me?
Even the world is against me.
Is it... is it a sin for someone like me to dream of getting stronger?
Why does everyone hate me? What have I done wrong? Where did things go wrong?
Yana jolted awake on the cold, hard metal floor. A nightmare. A terrifying one. She could still feel it. The swords piercing her flesh, the desperate resistance of her muscles and organs as they failed to protect her body.
She gasped, clutching her neck, forcing herself to breathe.
She'd been having these nightmares for as long as she could remember, and they only grew more vivid with time.
Now, it had reached the point where her sleeping body actually believed her neck had been cut off so much that she'd stopped breathing.
Thankfully, she'd managed to survive, just barely.
No use thinking about it now. She still had to survive today.
A new day meant another chance to live.
Yana climbed out of the dumpster she'd been sleeping in, trying to tidy her already filthy, worn-out clothes.
"Guess I'll have to do magic tricks today.
With these clothes, I won't be getting any gigs anyway."
She ducked back into the dumpster, remembering she'd almost forgotten her deck of cards.
At the plaza, a place filled with all kinds of people and Yana blended easily into the crowd.
She went to a small stall that sold soup, tossed a copper coin to the owner, and grabbed a chair.
The owner didn't complain. He was used to it.
After all, who would refuse? A single copper coin just to borrow a chair for a short show, and Yana always made more than enough to make it worth it.
Besides, she was a familiar face. Even if she tried to run off, there was nowhere she could go.
Once she reached her usual spot at the plaza, she stood on the chair to elevate herself above the crowd and the show began.
She pulled out her deck and started performing. First, she held up the Ace of Spades for everyone to see. With a flick of her wrist, it was gone, vanished into thin air.
People slowed their steps. Children tugged their parents' sleeves. Nobles and their maids paused their shopping to watch.
She spread her hands—nothing there. Then another flick, and suddenly... the Ace of Hearts appeared.
Wait. Wasn't it the Ace of Spades before?
Yana tilted her head, feigning confusion, as if even she didn't know what had happened. Then, as though remembering something, she opened her mouth and pulled out the missing Ace of Spades.
The crowd laughed. She threw both cards into the air, bowed gracefully, lifted her left hand holding the deck, and almost magically, the cards rained down, landing perfectly atop it.
Nobles, impressed by the spectacle from this homeless girl, tossed her coins. Commoners, moved by pity and admiration alike, followed suit.
Yana caught every coin mid-air, then left quietly after returning the chair to the soup stall owner.
She counted her earnings.
Two silver coins and three coppers.
The most she'd made all week.
Probably because it was Monday and people were eager to buy fresh goods.
That's when a man cloaked in black approached her. His hood shadowed his face completely.
"You're Yana, right?"
Yana smirked.
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Who's asking?"
The man paused, momentarily thrown off by her attitude.
"You're not infamous enough to say that line."
She shrugged, slipping her coins into her pocket.
"Apparently, I'm infamous enough for you to know me. What do you want?"
The man regained his composure and dropped a gold coin onto the ground.
"I need you to retrieve something for me. South West Market, Sixth Street, seventh stall on the left. You'll know it when you see it. Meet me at your dumpster by sunset."
Yana looked at him with an arrogant grin.
"You think a gold coin's enough to make me go into the black market for you?"
"Yes."
"You're absolutely right." She caught the gold coin before it even hit the ground.
Without hesitation, she left for the South West Market—the lawless district even the Imperial Palace turned a blind eye to.
Contrary to what most believed, the black market wasn't rundown. Some streets were even spotless. Of course, no noble would dare buy from a filthy one.
The slaves, though... they weren't much better off than Yana. But they were well-fed—after all, a damaged product was bad business.
Yana took the quickest route she knew. That's when she stumbled upon the aftermath of a massacre.
"Oh, fuck... yeah." Her eyes lit up with excitement. Who wouldn't be? Dead bodies meant loot—things she could sell.
"At least they're helping someone even after death," she muttered. "Maybe that'll earn them a spot in Heaven."
She knelt and examined the corpses. Quick deaths. The killer was far stronger than they were. Clean stabs to the heart, slashes to the neck, a blade through the brain. Brutal but efficient.
One body bore an insignia—Midnight Raven Information Guild.
"Ah, that rings a bell," she murmured. "Heard some drunkards say a new information guild crossed the Silver Swan Guild. Guess this is their punishment."
Fools. Messing with one of the biggest guilds in the city. Sucks to be them.
Yana continued searching until she found a dead girl—different from the rest. The girl's robe was luxurious, expensive-looking.
She had porcelain skin, her hair a striking white like Yana's—though clearly dyed, giving her a worn, ghostly look.
"Well, since you're dead, might as well help a fellow human, no?"
Yana tugged the robe off the corpse. As she did, a letter slipped out.
"Huh? What's this?"
It was a letter of admission—to the Imperial Academy, though Yana couldn't read it.
"What's this? I can't read. Fuck it. I'll just take it anyway."
After looting the rest of the bodies, she realized she'd hit the jackpot, fifteen gold coins and several high-end jewels.
"Holy shit," she whispered. "These guys were rich."
She proceeded to the Sixth Street, seventh stall on the left, and found the briefcase the man had mentioned. She didn't care what was inside.
After the drop-off, the man tried to hand her the rest of her payment, but she only took half.
"I'll take half. In return, I need you to read something for me."
"Fine by me."
She handed him the letter. He read aloud:
"The Imperial Academy is happy to welcome the First Born Daughter of the Ya-ma-za-ki Clan of the Eastern Continent.
The said individual is exempted from any trial of admission to the academy."
He stumbled over the surname, giving up halfway.
"Where did you get this?" he asked.
Yana smirked.
"I didn't ask about your business. Don't ask about mine."
She snatched back the letter, handed him the briefcase, and walked away.