Owlish Headlines (595 words)
It happens on a rainy Sunday, where the sky is dark and gloomy and the rumble of thunder is loud in the air.
It’s late in the day and the gym was empty outside of the young woman, her sparring partner, and her coach. Alex’s hair is braided down her back and chunks have fallen free, sticking to her skin that’s damp with sweat. Her breathing is shallower than she’d like as she blocks and kicks and punches. In the end, her opponent is on the ground with an arm twisted behind their back and a knee holding them in place.
“Enough,” her trainer says.
Without a word she lets go and rises, wiping her forehead with her shoulder. Wrapped hands dust themselves on her shorts and she swallows when she hears a soft, feminine voice go Alexandra. Blinking, Alex jerks back with her blue eyes darting across the empty building for the source of the voice.
There are no other women in the gym.
That’s troubling.
“Hit the showers and we’ll go over everything after,” the trainer says and Alex nods, slipping beneath the rings and heading off towards the locker room. She can hear her sparring partner and coach talking amongst themselves but then -
Alexandra. Alexandra Kingsley.
There was that voice again, with no one around. She blamed it on dehydration, clearly she needed to drink more water or something, because she couldn’t possibly be hearing things. Right?
So, Alex attempted to focus on her notes and how she was getting home with the storm. She didn’t live far from the gym, but most of it was uncovered which meant she was going to get soaked. It would be fine, she’d been through worse conditions she was sure.
By the time she’d gotten home and unlocked the door to her apartment, her shirt was soaked through from the rain and her hair was sticking to her face, neck and back. Her duffle bag sat heavy on her shoulder, the mesh and fabric weighted from the rain and she dropped it unceremoniously at the entrance before she started stripping off all her damp clothing.
She’d peeled off her shirt, leaving her just in a sports bar when she noticed something funny happening with newspaper draped across the countertop. The letters of the headline were shifting around and letters in smaller print were moving upward, enlarging to match the size and font of the other.
ALEXANDRA, they spelled.
My name is Athena, and I have Chosen you. If you accept, someone will come within the next week to recruit you. Say yes and magic will be abundant in your life.
The belt she’d been working on pulling out clattered to the floor and she snatched up the paper immediately, tearing through the other pages only to find the same message on everyone.
Your mind is an incredible asset, the words began to write in front of her and she could feel the breath leaving her in a rush. Let us change the world.
Oh, oh, what an offer.
The newspaper crinkled in her hands and she felt absolutely ridiculous when she said, “I accept,” to an empty room.
A gust of wind, from where she didn’t know, seemed to flutter around her warm and comforting as the paper went blank, Athena’s owl mark filling the entirety of the page.
Alex didn’t know how she knew what the owlish pendant was, but she did and it was overwhelming.
Magic, she thought, folding the paper neatly and replacing it on counter. What have I just agreed to?
