Neopolitan

For fuck's sake, she knew she short, but she wasn't _that _short.

She looked around for the fucker that had dropped the book on her head. There were a few tall villagers around the streets of Mica, all dressed in cloaks and wraps, not one of them baring books. Odd, she thought. Though I suppose books aren't of much use around here. Shithole of a kingdom. Actually, what even is this book?

She flicked the nondescript book open. Blank on all pages, except the very last. And that had only a single sentence that offered so little information, she wanted to rip the fucking page out. All it said was, _'Stars are too fickle to wish upon. A book is far better.' _whatever the hell that meant.

Was it a book that grants wishes? Was that what it was? Surely it couldn't be, there wasn't a thing in the world that powerful except a god-touched object...

There was no way.

She whipped out a pen from her pocket and wrote the first thing that came into her mind.

The town of Mica worships me as their god.

She closed her eyes and waited for a second. Then she opened them. Nothing had changed. There was no crowd of people doting over her, there were no priests or celebrations. Though there was an oddly cool sensation on the back of her neck. Had she been standing in shade? She turned around.

Holy shit.

A twelve foot statue of her, in all of her tri-coloured beauty, towered over her, umbrella held up high as if to shield the town from evil. Her own heterochromatic eyes glared down at her, and she nearly tripped over the pots of incense and offerings at her feet.

Oh my god, it really does work! Then a mischievous smile crept across her face, not nearly reflective of the twisted thoughts in her mind.

I am going to have so much fun with this.