Bad Magic (The Sly Saintess Brings Bad Ideas To A Fairy-tale Kingdom)

They want a saviour? I'll give them a saviour they won't believe.

At the age of twenty-five, you'd think I'd be too old for this. Working in a flower shop doesn't exactly lend itself to kingdom-saving power fantasy.

Oh right, Fumiko Matsumara, I'll be your protagonist for the evening.

It happened like it always does in Manga or Light novels, where there is no real build-up and the protagonist is just summoned seconds after entering or exiting an apartment. 

So there I was, entering my lonesome apartment, with a bag of treats for my big Ragamuffin cat named 'Moose', when a bright light shaped like a square lit under my feet and teleported me to another world.

Tch. I didn't have time to take a dump. 

When the light faded, I found myself in some godforsaken cathedral, filled with sunlight and surrounded by snotty-looking assholes from Medieval Europe all dressed up in their finest drip. 

Usually, two things happen at this point:

1)  The Main character is somewhat okay with being ripped away from their everyday life and tasked with a job by sketchy strangers.  

2)  The Main character is annoyed and demands to be sent back.

Yeah, I am smashing option two on that dialogue box every time. 

In that moment, I am not thinking 'wow this is awesome, a real king, it's just like an Isekai'. Fuck no. I am only concerned with my cat Moose, who is still waiting for me to come home.

I imagine the days stretching on in that apartment, as the cat looks for things to eat, to survive. It can't go out, because everything is locked. So it slowly dies, not just of starvation, but a broken heart, thinking I had abandoned it, when all he wanted to do was tell me he loved me and thank me for taking care of him.

Moose...Moose...I'm sorry...it wasn't my fault. It was these godamn kidnappers. 

Oh, now I am royally pissed.  Still,  I'm surrounded by guards in armour, so I have to be on my best behaviour. For now.

"Saintess! Blessed Saintess!" 

The fat bastard that is supposedly the King rises from his throne and opens his arms.

Huh?

I look around. He's talking to me. 

Saintess? Ahh, shit.

An eye twitches. I was hoping to be some hero, so I could pretend to go on a quest (but in reality take my sweet time wandering around, doing fuck-all to help these chuckleheads).

Now it looks like I'm going to be couped up in some lush pad and be praised by the people. 

A dream for most, but a nightmare scenario for someone who actively avoids crowds and social situations. Thirty seconds in, and it's already a disaster. 

Deciding not to make things worse, I pretend to be a dainty ingénue, to pull one over on these uppity dipshits.

 Wide-eyed, I look around like I'm Alice in Wonderland. 

(Let's go with the 'hand on hip and shielding my eyes'  performance).

"W-w-wha?? Where am I? What is this place? It's soooo...different from what I am used to." 

 I rest the back of my hand against my forehead, all confused and damsel-like. 

Nailed it.

"I know, I know." The King says. "It will take some time to get used to, but you have been chosen neigh selected..."  That's the same thing, genius. "...By the Gods, to banish the incoming terror and shield this citadel with your holy powers."

I clench a fist and stare at it; it feels warm. White sparkles flitter around like stars. So this is magic. Looks useful.  Still, can't hang around chatting, I've a cat to look after.

"Fair King, I beseech you. Please send me back from whence I came, for I have unfinished business, overth thine domicile." 

Yeah, I know 'Overth' is not a word, but it's not like these folks are topping up their Shakespeare.

The King frowns. "Alas. I cannot. The summoners used up a lot of spirit energy and need to reserve their energy for at least ten years."

Ehh? Did he say ten years?! 

I have to wait a full decade to return? I've already caught up with Never-Ending Pirates, but now I'm going to miss the final season? (Although it might still be going, who knows at this point?)

The corner of my fake smile begins to twitch. 

I look down. The building shakes, and cracks begin to form on the walls and ceiling.

 The shadows around me lengthen as candlelight flickers violently. The crowd murmurs, then cries with fear. 

A wind whips at my hair and clothes, my face darkens, and my eyes glow red like embers.

"You will deny me the ending of a series,  I have invested FIFTEEN YEARS?"

(Yeah, this is also about my dead cat, so I might as well lump all my grievances together). 

"How about you all...get fuuuuucked!!" 

Red metal spears shoot out of the ground, impaling everyone. Their bodies convulse as they are brought higher; all the while, blood pools until the entire Cathedral floor is running with a stream of shiny crimson.

I laugh hysterically at the irony. They wanted a saviour, but no one could save them from me.

"Uh, Saintess?" The King says, a little concerned.

Oh right, reality. More important.

"I, uh,  spaced out there for a bit." I say, shaking my head. The crowd is unharmed, no blood is running free like a hellish river. I am still here. ( I am so looking up that spell, though.) 

Hoo-hoo! This place has got to have a forbidden library. I cross my fingers. C'mon Isekai tropes!

Firstly,  I need a base of operations, to plan, to scheme. to plot my escape. I can't rely on these idiots, I need to reverse that summoning spell. That will the plan number two.

Speaking of number twos, I really need to pinch a loaf.

"Soo, where will I be staying?" I ask, placing my hands behind my back, swaying innocently. (Mostly because I'm trying to hold it in.)

"You will be stationed at the Royal Garden Estate," Someone from the right-side said. "Where everything will be provided for you."

"Really, everything?" I say, smirking.

I was about to troll him by asking for a 1986 Yamaha VMX 12, when I see who is talking. 

The voice turned out to be from a tall, handsome fellow, dressed in black with a dark cloak tied across his chest to the shoulder like a sling. 

Wha-wha-wha-what is up this guy? His cheekbones are lethal weapons, and he has those sleepy, aloof eyes, that will be staring at me during the token Bathhouse episode.

His hair is purple but subtle not like 'fat parent at a theme park' way.

"Damocles will be your devoted servant. It is the least we can do for inconveniencing you, our grace."

And killing my cat, you worthless douchebags. Don't think I've forgotten!

I dig into my pockets and take out its pink sparkly collar. Giving it a gentle look, I clip it around my wrist like a bangle. In my other pocket, I pull out a cigarette and lighter. 

I give a few puffs before speaking. 

"Alright." I say, pointing with the cigarette between my fingers. "I will save your little kingdom. But I do things my way. I don't want to hear any officials giving me a hard time."

The gathering of people looked around at my sudden change in personality. 

To be honest, I was growing tired of the 'little lost girl' act. It would have been a headache to keep up appearances.

The congregation rise noisily. It sounds like a giant caterpillar trying on shoes.

"So be it. From henceforth, the chosen one, our great and glorious Saintess, will be tasked with healing the sick and providing us with protection from the incoming invasion."

Oh, yeah, the healing - I'm all about the healing. That's me, the  M.F heal specialist. I'm gonna heal the shit outta everyone. Heal fast, Heal furious. God...are there any spells for inducing a self-coma?

"M'lady." Damocles says, ushering me toward the exit. I bow toward the royals and turn away. "Our carriage awaits to take you to your residence."

"Sounds like a plan," I say, still nursing that cigarette.

"I know what you're thinking: You're the wrong woman, at the wrong place, at the wrong time."

I nod and blow smoke. "Story of my life."

Heading toward the tall doorway, I blink as the light grows brighter.

"Rest assured," Damocles says. "I will fill you in on the way."

Choose different words!

***

The Estate Manor is ridiculously large, like something Jane Austen would have written about.

It takes a minute by carriage to get from the outer gate to the cour d'honneur, a driveway enclosed by two wings on either side of the entrance. 

"Ha ha," I say, as we pull up. "What a nice hotel, can't wait to see my place."

Damocles smirks. "Begging your pardon, Grace. This is your residence."

His voice is soft, like a Hot tub filled with velvety butter.

When the carriage slows to a stop, Damocles greets the waiting servants and steps out first, reaching a hand for me to hold, which is a formal way of exiting a horse-drawn carriage.

Hoo hoo! We are not there yet, buddy boy.

Like the heathen I am, I ignore formalities and instead decide to turn around and exit the carriage like it's a step ladder. I carefully balance until I accidentally slip on the gravel and fall backward. 

Damocles catches me in time, my back to him, his arms around my waist.

Well shit. Now it's a Shoujo.

 I literally go red and break off, dusting myself off.

"Thank you, Damascus."

"Damocles, grace." The man says, with a bow. "And you are truly welcome."

Right, like you aren't going to scheme behind my back. I know how this works. 

Every one of these smiling, cute, doe-eyed servants is up to something. Even this button-nosed cherubin girl, who looks about ten. 

What happened to child labor laws?? It's all a conspiracy. I'm onto you lot. 

***

In a stupidly massive bath straight out of Scarface, I am alone, enjoying the bubbles. I don't know who knew how, but it conveniently covers me up. 

The real shock I receive cannot be revealed for the sake of decency. Let's say it involves the words: 'Time skip' and 'I am no longer a passing grade'.

Afterwards, I reach my chambers  wrapped in a full-length Kimono (no more plain ol' bedroom for me), and there is a white ensemble draped over a dressmaker's mannequin. 

It is made from the purest silk, with a gown and hood. The Gown ends in oversized sleeves reminiscent of ancient Chinese clothing, decorated with intricate gold-leaf branches. It is reserved for only the most virtuous and the most elegant. 

Naturally, I hate it. 

I call the dressmaker, and ever-so politely propose a brand new outfit that I could feel comfortable in.

"But your grace." The Dressmaker says, nervously. "We have the traditional outfit here, people will recognise you as the Saintess."

"Trust me," I say, with barely contained glee. "The people will ALL know what I look like, by the time you are done."

"I still don't understand...what is a 'Victorian look' ?"

I chuckle sweetly and pour her a cup of tea.

"Oh my dear sweet Dressmaker," I say, "I have such sights to show you."

*** 
Weeks later, I show off my new personally customised outfit. It is straight out of the 1870s with the main colours being blood-red velvet and cream. A bustle supports an overskirt, attached to a buckled waistband. Topping this off is a large, ruby-red velvet hat tilted at a rakish angle.

Oh yeah, and I added an eye patch.

The servants look aghast as I cover my mouth with a lace fan.

"Y-your grace?" Damocles stutters. "Why the eyepatch?""

"I have come to realise that this eye is too powerful to be seen by mere mortals," I say. "Better to take precautions. Besides, I think this suits me more than the other."

I know they're all thinking the same thing: She's a Villainess!

Why, of course! You killed my cat, so I will make sure your precious Kingdom suffers. 

Not with violence, but with kindness. 

I will bring economic prosperity using the worst aspects of humanity, for I am the Saintess, and this is my gift to you. 

Get ready. Your precious Fairy-Tale Kingdom will become a bustling metropolis! 

"Now," I say with a devilish smile. "Have you ever heard of Fast food restaurants?"

"

"

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