Cursed: Scarlet
Chapter 11: Test of Patience

~Scarlet~

Leaving Ian on the balcony had been cruel of me, but I knew that it was in his best interest to face this on his own. I would have told him, making the tests null and void; I just hope that he will survive. He needs to survive this…I cannot bear to lose another one.

His first test, beginning promptly at the crack of dawn, would be conducted by Hecate. The council would all be there, mostly to make sure that she doesn’t go easy on him. She will push him to his magical limits in a specially thought up duel, and whether he wins or not, the first test will decide how much we drain him.

He will go through the same process with each member of the High Council to establish his points of power. These will then be used on the day of his birth to bind his energy to seven stones, which will be hidden away until such time that he can handle the magical energy.

My own powers, when they were taken, had to be put into obsidian gems, due to lesser jewels breaking on only a fraction of the energy.

It takes almost a hundred years for the initial energy to disperse through the body until the next can be used. Another benefit of being Immortal, you can live long enough to harness your own magic.

As the council encircles the main floor of the amphitheatre, my eyes never leave him. He just looks so alone and unsure, I want to hug him. But having Morgana and Marcus blocking me from both sides, I am forced to stay where I am, without being able to help him.

Hecate enters at the end farthest from her son, making a point not to look at him even once. As the magical pressure builds on both sides, I cross my arms, hoping to appear nonchalant, even if I don’t actually feel that way.

As she moves to her first stance, my hands clench in anticipation. Morgana takes that for a move to interfere, so she increases the pressure on me, making it impossible for me to move. Sighing, I cross my arms and shift to my left hip, my eyes never leaving the small battlefield.

With a small flash, magical arrows rain down on Ian, taking him by surprise, but he summons a shield quickly, blocking them. Less than a moment later, he sends his own attack, leaving Hecate to retaliate.

This goes on for hours, the attacks becoming ever more dangerous than the last. When Hecate’s pressure increases again, a wind picks up, and I can feel Sapphira’s whining more than hear it that her ‘hair is being ruined’. The lower council are all around us, protecting us as well as the grounds from the influx of magical energy.

Nevertheless, we do not move, though I suspect Marcus and Morgana are tiring of holding me back, I may or may not be siphoning away their energy as a punishment for prohibiting me. Shifting to my other foot, I keep my gaze locked on the duel before me, the first of many for Ian.

Though the various Originals have different methods for drawing out the powers of Ian, he will have to duel all of them to be able to pass to the next test. Hecate’s may be physical, but Morgana’s will most likely test more than his magical capabilities.

My attention is drawn back to the battle, the playing field has tilted in Ian’s favour, and somehow he has tapped another source, increasing his magical strength incredibly. Smiling more to myself than anything else, I sit down in a way reminiscent of the Tibetan monks I studied with for a few decades.

Marcus sighs and lowers his shield around me, as does Morgana. Resting my head on my palm, I can’t help but admire the tattoos on Ian’s arms once again, his shirt seems to have disappeared in the hours we’ve been here, not that I’m complaining.

At about noon, it seems as if they will never stop, so my mother summons food from the villa. As the platters are handed around, I still do not stop watching him, even while I eat. Silently, I wish for something stronger than fairy wine, but I know Morgana would never allow me to get drunk in public if she could help it.

After eight hours of nonstop duelling, Hecate finally pinned him to the ground with a magical net. I’d long since resigned myself to the obviously never-ending event, so I was lounging on my throne with my legs over one arm and my head resting on the other. As he hit the ground I sat up, pretending to be glad that it was ending. But he ripped it off and they kept going.

By midnight, I am thoroughly bored, Hecate is just repeating herself now, and Ian doesn’t seem to get it. Marcus and Morgana have stepped away from me, so I take advantage of their lapse in concentration. There’s a gap in her defences near her left foot, I send the thought to him as well as a mental image. He nods in acknowledgement and readies himself. Now!

He sends a blast of energy at the spot I mentioned, and Hecate visibly weakens. Ten minutes later, the duel is over, and the first binding decided. Yawning theatrically, I walk out of the amphitheatre without looking at anyone. Putting my hands behind my neck, I pass Dmitri and nod at him, and he returns the gesture.

As soon as I am away from him, I flash into my room, pulling off my boots and sighing. Not bothering with walking all the way to my cache of booze, I make a bottle materialise and sink gratefully into an armchair. Maybe he isn’t so helpless after all…I think, before flashing into my bed, bottle in hand.

***

Gasping for air, I glare at him from my crouched position on the ground. As I try to regain my strength, he just stands and looks at me, arms crossed and completely unscathed. Growling in frustration, I attack again.

My fist goes right past him as he casually steps out of the way. With one hand, he grips my arm and sends me flying. My back hits the wall, and I sag to my knees, winded once more. When I look up, he’s still standing in the same place, arms crossed, indifferent to my struggles.

This time, I don’t bother getting to my feet; instead, I sail into the air, gathering energy from any source I can replace. Without another sound, I raise seven boulders from the ground in a shield formation. He raises an eyebrow, and moves to counteract me.

With a wave of my arms, I send them flying, altering their matter until they resemble large metal spheres. They hit their mark, and the grin has finally disappeared from his face, to be replaced with a scowl. Smirking, I summon the next round, not giving him time to retaliate as the ice spears encircle him, trapping his body. He tries to summon enough heat to melt them, but with a flick of my hand, I take them away making him drop to the ground.

My hair whips around me as I pull yet more energy into myself, and release it in a combination of flames and hot wind. The pseudo-tornado hits him, and he is blocked from my view. As I wait for it to dissipate, I call water to the surface from deep within the ground. When he doesn’t get up, I fly towards him, my attack ready at any second.

He just lies there, completely still, so I let my hold go and sink to the ground. With one last flick, I trap him in a water cage.

“Well done, Scarlet,” he whispers, before the ice spears run through my heart and I lose consciousness.

Grasping at my chest, I sit up in bed, the dream fresh in my mind. When the shaking subsides, I sink back into the pillows, sighing with relief. It was only a memory…only a memory…

I turn on my side and fall asleep once more, a deep, dreamless sleep. I would need every ounce of strength to deal with the day to come.

***

Once again, the High Council assembles in the amphitheatre to witness the second test. Bleary-eyed, I barely see my mother seated across from Ian on a pair of stone chairs. “I hate getting up this early,” I mutter to no one in particular as Marcus takes up his vigil over me.

Spinning on the heel of my favourite pair of combat boots, I walk over to my throne and sit down. Yawning, I stretch my legs over the arm and settle in for a boring twelve hours, given yesterday’s time; it was safe to say that we’d be here for a while.

The shield on the outside of the amphitheatre surges up shortly before the inner one, telekinetic battles are even more dangerous than natural magic, because anything can be manipulated, even people. Hades takes his place opposite Hecate, who seems to have transformed into a Goth hippie for the occasion.

An uneasy feeling settles over me as Morgana searches through Ian’s mind, she seems to have found his connection to me, so I block it. His attempts at pushing her out are laughable, but expected, she’s been playing around with the arts of the mind for longer than he, after all.

As the day wears on, and I get bored, I summon food for the Councils to keep them occupied. With Morgana focused on other things, I also send for stronger liquor than she would like. Marcus, it seems, can’t be bothered with my drinking habits.

Near noon, the telekinesis battle begins, and Morgana finally stands up. Ian threw the first punch while she was distracted, so her retaliation shall be extremely interesting to witness. The stone chairs disappear into the floor once more as the magical pressure builds in the arena.

Unfortunately, my hair is ruined again by the by-product wind. Sitting up straight, I cross my arms and wait for Morgana to attack him. She really does love to toy with her enemies when she fights…it is just as the stories say.

Ian looks unsure as he waits, obviously feeling the pressure building. His hands are raised defensively in front of him, and if they moved, Morgana would stop his attack instantly. I am not particularly surprised, though, when she picks him up and leaves him hanging in the air while he’s pummelled by small pebbles.

Her concentration is intense, her eyes never leaving him. Having battled her once before, I know her eyes are the only things moving. Resting my head on my hand, I watch as he makes the same mistake he’s always made, shifting positions when he makes a move.

I sigh once more and wish I could help him, but he has to replace out for himself, yesterday was bad enough. Hopefully he’s better in battle than at taking hints. Speaking of hints…nope, she’ll hear me. That’s the other problem with telepathy; Morgana is really good at using it.

Sitting for so long has started to make my butt itch, so I get up and walk around the small arena, with Marcus not far behind. Crossing my arms, I stand behind Ian, glaring at Morgana. Somehow, his shirt has disappeared again. Not that I’m complaining, his muscles are tensed, as if he’s going to fly at her any second.

Smiling, I sit down and cross my legs, Marcus remains where he is, two whole steps behind me. Persistence is one of his many, horrid, attributes. Why not sit down? I say, linking our minds.

All I get is a grunt in reply, so I use the opportunity to go through his minds. A mental wall slams up around me, and I am forced to retreat. Spoilsport…

Once again, he grunts in reply, so I turn my attention back to Ian. In the few minutes I’d been distracting both my parents, he’d managed to replace Morgana’s weak spot. And all on his own, too. They grow up so fast. Even in my own mind I sound perpetually sarcastic, I think, rolling my eyes.

At least no one else can hear…oh damn. Ian’s head whips around, he heard everything. Swearing loudly, I point him back to Morgana and get up. Pay attention!

Setting up my own mental barriers, I block everything out, even my own thoughts. When my eyes open, the duel is over, and Ian has lost. For a change…

No thanks to you, he shoots back at me, accompanying the thought with a glare. I take a step back, straight into Marcus. His hands wrap around my upper arms, and I am turned to look at him. Clearing my mind in an instant, I look up at him.

I can feel him prodding at my defences, and then retreating when he realises how many there are. He lets go of me, and I turn to where Ian had been, but Hecate and Hades had gotten to him first. They look like a family, with a Goth hippie for a mother and a theatrical nutcase as a father.

Chuckling, I walk out of the amphitheatre and stretch as I go. Sensing Gabriel, I camouflage myself, even my body heat is hidden, but not in a noticeable way. He looks lost, that adorable forehead creasing as he sniffs the air. Standing completely still, I wait for him to walk on.

Instead, he just stands there, staring into the distance. The sun sets just over his shoulder, making him seem…well, at ease. Sighing, I let go of my illusion and walk past him, but his hand encircles my wrist and I’m forced to stop. With my back to him, I try to straighten my face, and make it as devoid of emotion as possible.

His grip tightens and I turn around slowly, knowing full well how easy it would be for either of us to break the other’s wrist. But this is neutral territory, so it is forbidden. Looking into his deep green eyes, I silently wish I’d been smart enough to flash out of the amphitheatre directly.

We stand there in silence, just staring at each other. When he lets go, I pull my hand back, rubbing my wrist to return its circulation back to normal. But he does not stop staring at me; his gaze just wanders up and down my body, taking in the usual black jeans, combat boots and long shirt. When they reach my face once more, I raise an eyebrow and spin on my heel.

“I’ve meant to apologise to you for a while now, for all the stuff I pulled before. I just…I realised that walking away from you was the most idiotic thing I’ve ever done,” I can feel his eyes on the back of my neck as I stiffen. Instead of walking further, I turn around again and cross my arms. The distance between us visibly annoys him, but I stand my ground.

“You had almost four hundred years to realise that you vile little excuse of a shifter. At any point, you could have found me, but you didn’t, because you thought I’d still want you, which goes against your every instinct. Face it, you’re a complete waste of my time,” I scoff and roll my eyes. “Even with the romantic gestures, you still managed to turn my stomach. You don’t appeal to me anymore, and it bothers you enough to buy me roses and French Chocolate.”

“That, my dear Gabriel, was the worst insult you could ever pay me. For all the years we spent together, and the numerous balls, I would have thought you would realise I like lilies and Belgian chocolate. But of course, how foolish of me, you were too busy being a narcissistic pig.”

Leaning forward, I glare at him, and then laugh loudly. “The only reason you could have for wanting me back now is to take me away from Ian, who is infinitely more powerful than you, and far younger. I have no time, nor patience, for your ego any longer, Gabriel.” With that, I make my dramatic exit, my hair flapping in the wind.

As soon as I am far enough away from him, I lean against a tree and sigh with relief. I’ve wanted to say that for decades. Brushing my hair from my forehead, I look up at the setting sun and realise that I’ve finally gotten over the ‘love of my life’. The fact that I even thought he was is a definite overstatement.

In my long life, I’d made a lot of mistakes, wanting him had been in the top hundred or so. But now, I had nothing keeping me from going after what I truly wanted. The question is…what do I want?

Sighing, I flash back into my tower and crawl onto the bed, completely worn out. Taking a few sips of the half empty vodka bottle next to the bed, I lean back on the pillows and replay the memory as if it is one of those ridiculous motion pictures the young mages in the school are obsessed with.

After a while, I give myself an ultimatum, bathe or be nice to someone. With a certain degree of laziness dictating my actions, I lie in bed while mentally controlling the taps and other bath-associated things. Once it is full I flash into the ice cold bath and sink down, creating the heat myself.

Once I become bored, I flash into the air above my bed, willing my skin to dry before dressing myself magically. Slowly, I let myself descend into the sheets and pillows; smiling at the comfort and warmth it brings me. And then, I fall asleep, completely free from the one burden I’d carried for almost four hundred years.

Dreams did not come to me that night, and I was grateful, until I woke up to the sight of my mother hanging over me in the middle of the night while the stars were still out.

“What the hell are you doing, mother?” I shout, simultaneously sitting up and covering myself while she just stands there, completely amused. Completely annoyed, I get up and change in a split second, making sure to wear as much black as I can possibly manage. You’d be surprised at how few the options are in a Greek style draped dress.

“Must you wear that?” she asks, leaning back and looking me up and down. Ignoring her, I put on a pair of sandals and magically straighten my hair. “Would you not feel better in a different colour? Pink, perhaps?”

I snort loudly and turn around, “You know, if you didn’t pretend that we are part of one big, happy family, Morgana, maybe you’d be able to see more than useless flashes of future events. The distractions you cause for yourself must be affecting your Sight negatively, seeing as you nearly lost to a seventeen year old this morning.”

As her face darkens, I smile venomously and flash out of my tower, knowing the old hag is not far behind. “I heard that, Scarlet!” she yells, appearing just seconds behind me in the torch lit amphitheatre.

“You were meant to, dearest mother,” I say, turning back to her. When she sniffs dramatically, I make my way to my seat, avoiding the noxious gaze of Hades. Ian, on the other hand, seems perfectly friendly towards me. He also seems to have regained most of his strength since his beating at the hands of Morgana.

He smiles one last time and then turns around to let Hecate hug him. If I hadn’t known any better, I could have sworn the orange glow where her hand clutched his back was from the torchlight. But I did, and I know she is placing a dormant shield on him in case anything goes awry. And with Hades around, there’s always a chance of that.

My gaze wanders to Vladimir and Wilhelm, who are speaking animatedly about something. Using my amazing hearing, I listen in on them and realise they are gushing over Gabriel’s new…girlfriend. With disgust, I stop listening and feign boredom.

I can feel Marcus behind me, so I slump further, wishing he would go away. That was a clever trick you played, Scarlet, distracting your mother by infiltrating my mind, his voice runs through the forefront of my thoughts and I grit my teeth in distaste.

Yeah, well, I was always told to leave etiquette and fairness in the council chambers. My reply causes him to sigh, loudly. Once, he’d told me that, around the time I would have been sixteen, by human count. He was also the first to teach me how to use a sword, after my frustration with the elfish bow caused it to shatter into tiny little pieces.

Those memories must have plagued him for years, because I could feel his pangs of sadness and regret as if they were my own. Standing swiftly, I close our connection and walk away. When I still feel his gaze upon my back, I leap towards the top of one of the columns and sit daintily on it, crossing my legs.

When the waning half-moon finally shows itself, the council rings the amphitheatre, with the new dirt floor containing Ian and Hades. From my viewpoint, I can tell Ian is not looking forward to what is to come.

And who could blame him? Tonight, Hades is making him summon and control the dead. For what purpose, I do not care to know. Probably to make sure that Ian is truly his child. Casting an additional shield over them, I watch closely as they begin.

The ritual is a familiar one, the food and wine are on a table with many candles, while Ian is standing before a golden basin. As Hades chants in the skin-crawling language of his realm, I watch Ian as he shifts nervously from foot to foot in his favourite sneakers.

His t-shirt, though black, still manages to outline his muscles. And, for once, it is sleeveless, so I can admire the full arm tribal tattoos he has. Being magical tattoos, the designs constantly shift, swirling like shadows around his muscles. From my vantage point, he doesn’t look his age, which I do not mind, at all.

When the first spirit appears, I ignore the chill running up and down my spine, chalking it up to the night air. But when I feel cold all over, I realise exactly what Hades has summoned. “Wraiths…that conniving son of a demon!”

The last part is yelled while I jump from my place and land on the balls of my feet next to Vladimir. “Those are not ghosts, Vladimir, they are vengeful spirits. We need to stop this,” I whisper in his ear. But he shakes his head and holds me back.

So they know, and I was not told, how unusual. When will they begin to trust me again? Must I wait for the rest of my life to be included in such things? All I can think about at this moment is how betrayed I feel and how worried I am for Ian.

But it seems that he is coping, and they are listening to him. Somehow, a few of them turn from a sickening blue to a normal shade, though not as substantial as actual living beings. For what feels like hours, I watch as each one seems to replace peace and dissipates.

When only one is left, I watch as he reaches out a hand to the small child, and she takes it. Though I cannot hear what he murmurs, I see the effect it has on her, and a small doll appears. As she hugs it, she begins to disappear and Ian stands once more.

That is, until the floor begins to quake and a fissure appears directly in front of him. My eyes flick to Hades, and I realise what is about to happen. He is going to battle a Guardian of the Gates. My legs cannot hold me for much longer, so I walk to my throne, my eyes not leaving him for a moment.

When a large, hideous, multiple-headed dog appears, I can barely contain my worry. But Marcus and Morgana are already surrounding me, casting their own will over me so that I can barely breathe, let alone move. Ian seems amused at the sight, until one of the dogs takes a chance on chewing his leg.

He jumps back quickly, and readies a ball over energy, most likely to stun the beast. Stupid boy, I think to myself, as the ball he throws misses completely. Even if he defeats Cerberus, it will regenerate back in its post. I look away for a moment, wishing I could help him, but when I hear the tell-tale clang of the sword, I realise I already had.

Most of his lessons on control had involved weapon’s training, as it would help him channel emotions better, something I can attest to. Obviously, he found the rack of weapons. The battle does not last much longer, he finally sneaks up behind Cerberus and lops off the heads at the point they meet. He has effectively beaten his first monster.

Not waiting for another moment, I leap from my seat, breaking through the combined weight of Morgana and Marcus’ energies with an ease that must disturb them. I run out of the amphitheatre and into the small forest on the grounds for the second time in a day, not stopping until I reach the house.

The French double doors swing open and I sink to my knees on the carpet of the library. My clothes shift into jeans and shirt while I clutch at my chest. He’d passed the third test, which meant he was all the closer to battling Marcus, and then...the binding, which I would have to perform, as the most powerful of the magic-users on the Council.

As I’ve mentioned before, the ceremony is painful, arduous, and effectively, draining. I would be the one to pull his energy from him and placing it into obsidian gems, to be filtered back into him at a hundred year mark. If he lives that long…