The Queen's Gambit

Desperado (Carmen Grey)

Desperado: A desperate or reckless sacrifice in chess, made to gain the most out of the unfortunate deal; usually made when about to be captured, or trying to prevent such events.

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"It looks like puke!"

"Fay-Fay really is cray-cray, what did you expect?"

"Probably poison, everyone knows Fay has mental problems..."

Add dried peppermint to the mortar, crush it lightly, and combine with rosehips.

​​​​​​ My mother's favourite potion isn't special. It isn't temperamental. She may be the goddess of magic, but it is far from that. Her birthday is today, so I'm sitting in the school cafeteria, preparing a fresh batch of her favourite herbal tea. I can't do it at home, unless I want to ruin the surprise.

I'm Carmen Elora Grey, but everyone calls me Fay. It's because I'm short, and because they say I'm crazy. Don't worry, I'm not. I just like making potions.

My pink and blue hair has probably fried my naturally dirty blonde, almost brown hair color, so it's a bit wispy at the ends. I love it though, and wouldn't give it up for the world. My hair is currently tied up in a messy bun, resting on the nape of my neck.

I pick up my pestle, trying my best to ignore the snide comments and stares. I try to stay quiet and not draw attention, but I'm not naturally introverted. People just take me for an introvert, because I'm deemed as 'off my rocker'. I'm still not sure why. Maybe it's because I don't follow the clothing trends as diligently as some, but I still do. Wearing a bulky crossbody bag full of emergency potions ingredients doesn't fit as many trends as it should.

Grind the lemongrass into the peppermint and rosehips. Hibiscus can be added for a sweeter flavor.

I don't even need the mental instructions, I could do this in my sleep. It may be viewed as strange to everybody else, but making potions calms me down. It gives me a sense of control over what happens next. In an enhancement potion, if I added aconite instead of daisy roots, I would have a poison, a potion capable of killing ruthlessly.

I grind the ingredients carefully, wanting all the pieces to be uniform. This is her favourite tea, but I've made some changes so it tastes better. Despite my mother being the deity of spells and witchcraft, I didn't inherit her kind of magic.

Instead, I can grow plants. I suppose it makes sense, since I was born in an apothecary, and should be able to grow my own ingredients. I do wish I got her ability to make things move without being touched. Once, when I was sick, I sneezed, and a daisy grew out of my nose. I've never lived it down, unfortunately.

I take a small glass jar out of my pocket. I prefer sturdier glass jars to vials, they can hold more, and are much stronger. It is for that reason that the apothecary handcrafts custom vials, usually made out of assorted crystal, depending on the potion's use. Quartz vials for the basic remedies, but for the more temperamental ones, dark blue sapphire filters the light and preserves poisons.

The apothecary isn't all 'good' potions, and it isn't all 'bad' potions either. Any 'good' potion, in enough quantities, could kill you. Nearly any 'bad' potion, in a small enough dose, could save your life. Take a Suffocation potion, for example. If enough is taken, the victim would cough uncontrollably and eventually due from lack of air intake. If somebody is choking, however, administer a drop, and they would cough for around the amount of time it took to get the object lodged in their throat out.

After placing the jar on the table, I wipe my hands on my pleated skirt, brushing off any extra ingredients that may have clung to my fingers. If I hurry, I'll have enough time for lunch. I carefully pour the dry mixture into the jar, and put on the screw-on-cap, twisting it tightly.

I put my ingredients back in my satchel, taking care to lodge them in just the right places. I've had broken glass in there too many times to count. It's a wonder my fingers are only stained with herbal remedies and homemade dyes, and not cut up by a shattered vials.

The wait in the lunch line went by slowly, but I barely noticed. Something was bugging me, but I wasn't quite sure what. It was really quite strange.

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When I got home that day, I was surprised to see my mother sitting at the small table in our kitchen, her forehead betraying her classic stay-calm-and-don't-worry-Fay look. She was usually able to hide it, but I was an expert in reading the atmosphere, no matter the circumstances.

"What's wrong?" I asked, hoping it wouldn't be too bad.

"You're back from school." Not an answer, but a statement. Made to imitate a true answer, but never really explained the origins of her sadness.

"What happened?" I tried again, hoping she would answer me properly this time.

"Did you know that Athena got banished from Olympus?"

"The goddess who now goes by Evelyn Willow?" I had a hard time trying to conceal my disbelief. How could she get banished? She had such a high status, didn't she?

"The one and only." My mother straightened, gesturing to the empty chair across from her. Her magic drifted towards the chair, pulling it out.

I dropped my backpack near a wall; I would pick it up later, anyhow. I sat down gingerly in the chair. My mother is stern, and strict in some ways, but she was rarely ever this serious. And when she was, you would do better than to mess around.

" Why was she banished? Why are you so worried about this?"

"Evelyn was too reckless, she challenged the Fates themselves." After a slight pause, she continued, giving more information. "She was much too prideful."

Pride. One of the seven deadly sins.

"Will she have to do the trials of Hercules?" My breath was bated, waiting for her reply. The trials of Hercules were necessary to gain immortality. But this time around, you had to do all twelve.

"She needs to do it, and complete the prophecy," replied my mother.

"What does the prophecy say?" I felt dumb with all the questions I was asking, but if my mother was sharing this with me, it would be crucial to know this later. She wasn't one to talk about other people naturally, that much was for sure. Caring, smart, kind, stern, but not a gossipy at all.

"The banished one must at last

Join forces with the fairy for the task

Venture on Quests to erase mortality

Lest she perish of immorality"

It was like it was burned into her brain, if one was to believe the ease she recited it with. My mother had obviously been mulling over the prophecy for quite some time.

The fairy. I had heard that term somwhere, but I couldn't quite remember where. With a sinking feeling in my chest, I knew exactly where I'd heard it. The meaning for the name 'Fay' was fairy.

"So.... You mean I'm the one the prophecy mentioned?" I was desperately hoping it wouldn't be the case. I didn't want to go on a quest, but if I was requested, then I would be obligated. It wasn't up to par with social standards if you declined a quest invitation. You would get exiled from the immortal world forever, and, depending on how much diplomatic power the person requesting you had, you could even be executed.

"I'm afraid so, Carmen," My mother rarely ever used my real name. I didn't even process the fact she was still talking to me for a moment. "Evelyn Willow requested you."