Cursed: Scarlet
Chapter 14: This is Where It Ends

~Scarlet~

Silence reigns in what was meant to be a room of life and energy. This was the product of thousands of years hiding from their own people.

“Where is he? What have you done with him?” none of them answer me, they just stare blankly. For the first time in my existence, the Originals are all silent and unmoving, at a loss about what to do. These are the strongest of their respective races, yet they have no idea how to act.

“Why are you all just standing around and doing nothing? You have armies to ready, a mad boy to replace, get a hold of yourselves!” Hecate is silently crying while Hades paces up and down, occasionally growling in frustration. My parents are standing near one another, holding hands.

“Oh for the love of all that isn’t holy,” I mutter and call up the generals of the armies, now rather useless, the races haven’t fought each other in millennia. They all look completely at a loss as well while I explain the situation and command them to gather the forces willing and able.

When Vladimir and Wilhelm finally join in, I walk over to my parents and slam them against the wall. “Wake up and start acting like you know what you’re doing, we have a school to defend,” they both share a glance, and stare back at me.

“Don’t look so surprised, I’ve been capable of this for years, you two are just unobservant,” I let them down, and Morgana tries to hug me but I hold up a hand. “It doesn’t mean that I forgive either of you, just that I now understand why you ruined my life on a regular basis.”

“Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have a charge who is missing and I have a sneaking suspicion as to why,” I walk to the set of French doors and open them while the council’s eyes are transfixed on me. “The armies aren’t going to command themselves you know,” I say over my shoulder before I run out the doors, and into his rooms, flinging open his bedroom doors.

“Ian? Are you in here?” I call out, looking into the ridiculously huge bathroom. When he doesn’t answer I walk into the closet and call out again, looking behind his clothes as if he’s a scared child after a nightmare. “Where are you?” I mutter, looking everywhere I can think of before giving up and flashing out of his rooms, onto the giant lawn outside the school.

Once again, I feel nothing, so I flash into the forest and stand still, opening my mind up to him, pulling Ian’s magical trace towards me. I stop on the lawn again, and wait for our link to kick in. There you are…

I run toward the amphitheatre, listening to him think the same things over and over…where are they? What will happen to me? Will she hate me? Am I completely idiotic for wanting to know her every thought? Will I die? Reaching the clearing, I slow down, speeding up the steps to the opening between the white columns glowing in the moonlight.

Of course…that’s why he’s attacking now, the power of the moon will help him pull out Ian’s magic into himself so that he can construct a body from it. He isn’t powerful enough on his own, he never was. The realisation forces me to stop at the base of the inner steps, and I have to windmill ridiculously to keep myself from falling over.

“Ian!” the sound of his own name doesn’t even register, he just keeps on staring at his hands, sitting in my throne. ’Ian snap out of it!” He looks up, and his eyes meet mine, but for the first time, it repulses me. His eyes have turned black, as black as the jewel at my throat and the hair I’ve hated for so long.

This isn’t Ian; this is Tristan, the vile, slimy snake who bears half of his blood. Or did, at one point, before I snapped his neck. “What did you do to him, Tristan?” as I speak, I siphon energy from my surroundings, keeping every part of him in full view.

He laughs mirthlessly while walking towards me. “Why do you care for him this much, Scarlet? He is so young and useless; he can’t possibly give you anything but a headache.” Ignoring him, I open my hands, summoning the azure flames I’m so famous for.

“And you could have given me better, Tristan? How time has failed to change you even a little,” I scoff, jumping to the middle of the amphitheatre floor. ’Though it is said the dead seldom have a chance, being trapped as they are, in your father’s realms”

His shape changes, revealing his own deathly pale skin and creepy features, he looks like those vampires in human films, claws and all. “It was you who sentenced me to this fate,” he says, gesturing at his body.

“You tried to do the same to me you arrogant bastard!” I yell, running at him and barely missing his arm with a ball of flames. He smiles wickedly, and ducks out of my way, shadows creeping over his skin. I flash away from him, appearing on the other end of our arena.

“Don’t you get tired of fighting me, Scarlet? If it weren’t for you, none of this would be happening. All of those innocent young men would have lived full lives and Ian would be safe from the destruction that is you. Or should I say Adrian, which is fitting, considering where I’m sending him.” I have the sudden urge to carve that sneer off of his face, but instead I feign boredom, juggling fireballs.

“You plan on sacrificing him to give yourself a life again, don’t you?” the flames grow as my temper flares. I can feel the darkness of his heritage from where I stand, oozing off him in waves. Even now, it repulses me to the point of wanting to be physically ill.

“That observant nature of yours was always your strongpoint, oh sweet Scarlet,” he laughs again, curdling the blood in my veins. “No matter, you will be united with him soon, if not in this world,” he disappears, trying to throw me off guard, but my attacks still replace him.

He crashes to the floor behind me, gripping his side. I don’t pause, attacking him again and again as he scrabbles away on hands and knees.

Stalking him calmly as a predator would its prey, I pull the glamour off the sword strapped to my back and pull it over my shoulder .Swinging the sword over my head, I make to cut his off, but he dodges and finally gets up.

“At least I can count on your cowardice, Tristan,” I say while I attack repeatedly, singing one of his old-fashioned sleeves and leaving him with a dose of frostbite. He retaliates with a scream of defiance and takes a swing at my legs, but he doesn’t make contact as I flash away at the last possible moment.

“Shut up you stupid girl,” he yells from behind me, a newly made shadow sword set to arch around and sever my arm from my body. I turn quickly and jump away, experience kicking in. Everyone tries that, it’s so predictable, I think while shaking my head at him.

“Seriously, try something original, you’re boring me here,” I back away, onto the floor of the amphitheatre turned battleground. His face takes on an unnatural grin as he gets up, leaning on the black sword.

“You wouldn’t be this cocky if my darling half-brother were here,” he sneers and makes another go at me, this time nearly slicing through my abdomen. “Does Hades know that you’re courting his son? Or are you afraid that he’d kill Adrian just to spite you?”

Ignoring him, I circle around him, waiting for his next move instead of the next load of bile to fall from his mouth. “Well he cursed me for one son, he may just take it away for the other,” I say, swinging my blade around and cutting him on the cheek when he manages to back away in time. “The God of Death is known for his unpredictable nature, after all.”

***

~Ian~

Even staring out over the silent lake, with my thoughts circling around my head like demented birds, I still manage to think about her. She’s the one who has to take away most of my soul, and she doesn’t even actually want to.

Even my ’parents’ are going along with what is basically torture. It may be for my benefit, but I don’t think I can live through it. I have no idea how she lived through it either, especially with the way she describes the entire process.

“They all stood around me, Marcus in the centre, making a shield. The pulling sensation grew until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, I was just slowly being crushed, wishing it would end. When the feeling of having my skin ripped off started, I wished for the pulling back.”

“That lasted for hours, because every time I thought it was ending, I would suddenly feel like I was being healed. Then it began again, even more excruciating. I stood for as long as I was able, but when it started for the third time, I remember collapsing, enveloped in pain.”

“I’ve since learnt that the healing was my body naturally pulling energy from the surroundings, constantly replenishing me. I have turned into an Empath, the most feared of all the magical beings. I just hope I will learn to control it, before I hurt anyone ever again.”

“I will never forget my father’s emotionless expression as he pulled away my energy, mercilessly even as I suffered. Even when it was over, he did not show any remorse, he looked at me and walked away from where I was curled like a new-born around myself, tears running over my cheeks.”

“For what they have done, there will be no forgiveness. And if they try to make others suffer the same, I swear I will kill the lot of them…”

Reading her words had opened my eyes to the reality of our worlds, the power of the Originals, and her own. In her own handwriting it stands, “From the first light of the dawn until the last rays of the dusk, they tortured me until I have no energy left even to move.” Morgana and Marcus put others above their own child, something I struggle to wrap my head around.

And here I am, full circle to my own. For seventeen years they abandon me, well ‘protect me’ and then they claim to love me, yet they are trying to pull out my very essence. Somehow, this strikes me as pretty sucky parenting. In comparison to my foster parents, it is supremely sucky parenting.

Mages, and elves now that I think about it, can’t lie, so I knew for a while that I was adopted. It was also kind of obvious, I mean, all their kids were ginger, while I’m not. There’s that, and my obvious prowess at magic in comparison to Margaret and Duncan and all their children combined.

I don’t hold anything against my adoptive parents, I just wish Hecate had had the strength to fight off Hades and raise me herself, instead of making up for it now. I may like all my new stuff, but I’d give it all up in a heartbeat for a chance to have had a proper childhood with her.

Then again, I probably wouldn’t be in this situation, with Scarlet, if it weren’t for the life I’ve been forced to live. The choices of others seem to dictate my life, instead of my own. I wish things weren’t this way, but I can’t think of a better reality.

I mean, my girlfriend instils fear in everyone, though I didn’t understand why until a few months ago.

***

~Scarlet~

We were sitting in my workroom, silently studying (most on his part) and just behaving like normal teenagers. I sat reading in my favourite armchair, pretending his sighs of frustration weren’t irritating me. I honestly would have preferred if he had kept sighing when he asked me the inevitable.

“Why do people hate you so much?” he was looking at me, I felt it. Refusing to lift my head from my book about ancient spells, I turned a page and pretended to think about my answer. When his gaze dropped from me, I finally answered.

“Who wouldn’t hate the girl who can kill someone with just a thought? I have more power in my pinkie toe than most mages, or elves, could dream of. I can manipulate their thoughts, steal the breath from their lungs and probably freeze them with flames,” I looked up and met his shocked (and slack-jawed) stare, and put the book down.

“It’s not like I want to be able to do this; frankly, I’d prefer not to have the potential to do everything I can. But I never had a choice, no one does, fate is a cruel, heartless creature after all.”

Sometimes, it’s easy to forget his age, and just speak to him openly. But I could see that this was beyond his grasp, so I just got up and climbed the stairs to the roof of my tower. He didn’t follow me as I went further and further up, he didn’t call my name either.

I pushed the door open and breathed the salty air in, walking to the edge of the walkway, where the parapet began. The overcast sky and strong breeze served to further relax me, while my hair whipped about, tickling my shoulders and neck as I climbed up onto the wide edge.

I remember crossing my legs and staring at the waves crashing against the rocks far below me, trying to drown out my own guilt by concentrating on the rhythm it made.

***

~Scarlet~

The sound of drums and screams signalled the beginning of the actual battle of the demons against the immortal armies, or possibly the students, I don’t really care when I’m faced with those empty black eyes. He grins maliciously at me, jabbing haphazardly at my midsection as I dance out of range.

Somehow, the sick bastard is enjoying this, must be an after-effect of being dead. While I think horrible thoughts about my former fiancé, he manages to cut my arm, the smell of blood obviously affecting him greatly, because I manage to slice off about an inch of his greasy hair.

Blegh, he stinks, I think, blocking another gust of strikes, careful to keep out of range of his sword. Ice forms over my wound, keeping it from becoming infected or letting any poison into my system. I really would not put such foul antics above Tristan; it’s what you expect from demon-spawn.

The ring of steel and the growing number of moving ice over my skin is all I can concentrate on as our duel becomes a pointless dance, devoid of any more wounds. When he suddenly stops and swings around me, shoving that vile blade through my chest, I am suddenly aware of Ian’s presence, right above me.

“For the love of all that isn’t holy, what the hell are you doing here, Ian?” I yell up at him, unable to move from the pseudo-embrace of Tristan’s arms. His breath is as foul as the rest of him, almost making me gag. “Get out of here you idiot!”

“I felt your pain, and I…what the hell is going on here?” he walks down the steps slowly, his eyes never leaving me. Tristan doesn’t move, which disturbs me more than anything he could have said, I know his eyes haven’t left Ian’s face since he entered the amphitheatre.

“Is this him, Scarlet?” his voice makes my skin crawl, especially because I can feel the closeness of his mouth to my ear. “Is this the boy you are willing to die for? How interesting,” he pulls the sword out and drops me onto my knees.

“I finally get to meet my little brother,” he yells to no one in particular, spreading his arms theatrically. “I’ve heard so much about you Ian, and I am quite intrigued as to what your thoughts are on the matter of Scarlet dying.” He looks back to me, and I meet his gaze with a glare, when he turns back to Ian I take the opportunity to freeze my wound and get up.

“She won’t die, it’s against father’s mandate,” Ian says, walking (stupidly) towards Tristan. He looks at me, but keeps going, “She has been doomed to be locked out of the realms of the dead for killing you, which, from what I’ve seen, wasn’t the right direction to take. I mean, they should have given her a medal and an entire country for it, you’re just that much of an ass.”

Seriously? He’s trying to bait Tristan? Have I really taught him nothing in the year I’ve been guarding him? I now remember why I hate teenagers, I think, circling silently behind Tristan. At least Ian isn’t running at him without a weapon and blind optimism.

Males, completely useless when it comes to fighting, I roll my eyes internally while keeping a careful watch on Tristan. I may not play fair, but I have some sense of decency. Demons have no such moral standing, nor do their offspring. This is probably why they always get defeated and sent back to the fiery pits where they belong.

Ian has kept talking throughout my mental tirade, while Tristan has stood eerily still, watching him in a disconcerting manner which, for some reason, reminded me of a dog waiting for a bone. His intention slowly dawns on me, and I jump, knocking Ian out of the way.

Tristan’s shadow arrows barely graze my left leg before I’m back on my feet. The flames on my sword burst into life, the eerie blue glow lighting up the arena. Unfortunately, my spike in fury manages to light the torches as well, making us completely visible to anyone nearby.

Ian is still lying on the ground, but staring at his half-brother with hatred I would never have expected from him. I wouldn’t have expected a few things from him, but I am obviously not done learning about him just yet. Lifting my sword so that my eye is just above the hilt, I walk towards Tristan, aiming for the one weak spot in his body.

His gaze shifts to me, a malicious grin spreading over his face. His own blade hangs at his side, as if he doesn’t expect much from me. Smiling serenely, I stop just in front of him and spin on my heel, my blade swinging in an arc, nearly slicing through his neck.

He retaliates at an unnatural speed, his blade missing my head as I duck. Expecting him to keep at it, I stay where I am, not realising that he’s gone straight past me until he’s standing above Ian, pointing the poisoned tip of the dagger at his throat.

Ian, being the smart boy he is, is trying to scrabble away, and keeping his eyes on it at all times. Tristan advances, as if it’s all just a game played between predator and prey. “I wonder, Scarlet, if he is worth your affections. I mean, if I cut him, will he fight back? Or will he just die like the weakling he is?”

Ian just ignores him and pushes himself up off the ground, crouching defensively. “You know, I do think he’s rather too rash for a child of Hades. He seems a bit too…brave,” the sneer has returned, Tristan’s favourite method of bullying seems to have lowered his defences.

Rolling my eyes, I walk closer to them, keeping myself aware for any sign of movement. When his hand twitches, I ready my blade, trying to anticipate him. “Bravery always was a bit difficult for your father, and you, for that matter,” I say, trying to distract him.

“We are cowards, such is the way of the dead,” he says, shrugging. “Everyone can’t be a hero, some of us can work behind the scenes, making the world our own.”

***

“We will make the world our own, dear Scarlet,” he said, holding my hand in his own, while I fought desperately against my urge to rip mine away. “It will be beautiful, and you will be its gracious Queen, compassionate and just, ruling by the side of its King.”

Bile rose in my throat at the thought, and I wished to get as far away from him as I could. I was saved, just then, by the arrival of Marcus, who seemed to have found out something wonderful. “Excuse me, Prince Tristan, but I need to speak with my daughter for a moment.”

Tristan nodded silently, and got up from the bench, then kissed my hand. “I shall see you soon, dear Princess,” he said, and then bowed to my father before walking out. I quickly wiped my hand on the skirt of my hideous white dress, while Marcus paced up and down.

But a few days before he had been fighting with me, trying to get me to accept the proposal put forth by Hades and his vile excuse for a son. I’d locked myself inside my suite, allowing none but Cassy inside, protesting against the entire marriage.

Marcus, being the volatile Elemental Emperor, had simply burnt down my door and dragged me out to the courtyard. He then cut my hand and forced me to hold it over a cup already half full of Tristan’s. He took the air from my lungs until I submitted to drinking it.

It was then that I received my first vision, the one of Tristan trying to stab me in my sleep on our wedding night and then taking my magic while I lay bleeding. I fell to the floor, retching and shivering, causing Morgana to have to take me back to my rooms and be nursed while she scratched around in my head.

Even faced with the vision herself, she still refused to believe me, and Marcus had since acted as if I was the perfect, obedient daughter. When he paced in front of me, so obviously full of glee, I’d wanted to stab him myself with a shard of ice.

When I refused to answer him, he told me about the wedding as if I was going to go through with it willingly. He took my hands in his own and stared up into my face as he said: “Your palace is complete and furnished, you will be able to live there from the wedding onwards.”

Of course, my reaction was not what he expected, but that was his own fault. In my shock, I threw him backward with a gust of wind, and singed everything in range before stomping out the door. Unfortunately, I also managed to make imprints in the thick marble floor, which resulted in a three hour lecture Morgana was happy to give.

My parents, it seems, were happier about that farce of a marriage than I was. As it turns out, I was right in being unwilling, and they still refuse to admit it.

***

The maelstrom of shades wrapped around me, causing my sword to fall to the floor as I was lifted helplessly into the air. From my viewpoint, I could see Ian pick it up and face Tristan, uncertain of its grasp. He was better off fighting with a twig than a proper blade in the light of his opponent.

They danced around, Ian flailing wildly while his brother parried him lazily, walking around under me in a loop. He was tiring the boy out, waiting for the opportunity to kill him, and get on with his ceremony before the armies had run their course on the fields.

Ian swings the sword wildly again, this time leaving his defences completely bare, and Tristan moves to take the advantage, stabbing him in the side and dancing away. He starts chanting, the shadows of his magic drawing close around Ian.

I break my bonds and fall to the ground on my knees, my eyes never leaving the two of them. With a scream of rage, my energy ignites, cracking the stone floor and creating a vortex, trapping them both. My sword flies into my hand, and I walk slowly towards Tristan, stabbing him through the chest as he did me, holding his shoulder as the blade drives further through him.

“You are going to pay for this,” he shouts, trying to get free, but I freeze him from the ribcage down before he can start anything else. Ian lies still on the ground, the poison sucking the colour from his face. Raising my hands in front of me, I begin to recite the one spell I never wanted to use.

The spell that bound my powers to the black stones can also be used to bind someone to a location for as long as the caster is alive, and I can’t die. The words surge through me, forcing Tristan to stand still. He stares at me in disbelief, realising what I am about to do.

“You can’t do this, it’s not possible, and no one is this powerful! Let me go this instant you wretched witch!” he starts shrieking obscenities in the Original Tongue as the magic circle glows under his feet. “Don’t send me there! Please, just let me go and I promise I will never bother any of you again! Please!”

“Shut up,” I mutter before I close my mind to him, the words continuing to flow from me as I bind his soul to the innermost ring of hell. My eyes close in concentration, as I imagine the exact spot of his imprisonment, the only place in Hades’ realm I’d ever visited.

“I bind you with my blood, I bind you with your brother’s blood,” I say, cutting my palm and Ian’s before dripping it into the circle. “I bind you with my energy; I bind you to the realm of Damanta for all eternity, Tristan Darkshade. You will never escape, and you will never replace rest, be assured of that.”

My hands fall and I teeter on my feet, it’s finally over. The spell has done its work and Tristan has disappeared. I barely notice that I’m running towards him, cradling his head on my lap while my right hand runs over his body, healing him.

He’s scarcely breathing, but he’s alive, else the magic wouldn’t be sinking into his skin. The tears start falling while I work, but I don’t care, I just keep going. I heal him until I barely have enough energy left to move; even the rage I siphoned from Tristan dissipates. When his eyes begin to flicker, I relax, but I do not let go of him.

His hand reaches for mine, gripping it almost as fiercely as I had his not minutes ago. When his beautiful green eyes open and meet mine, I sigh with relief, wiping away the tears and sweat with my free hand. “W-what happened?” he says, trying to sit up.

“He knocked you out, but I stopped him from getting to you. I- I bound him to the realms of the dead with our blood, to keep him from escaping ever again. Even if one of us dies, the other will be able to keep him there,” as I speak he sits up, his hand cupping my face. Though our clothing is in tatters and we are coated in blood and stars know what else, we just stare into each other’s eyes while our minds intertwine.

His relief washes over me, my regret falls away, and for a moment, we are happy. That is, until the cavalry arrive, and I am pulled away from him, into Morgana’s suffocating embrace. Hecate checks Ian –Adrian- over, her hands glowing as she inspects his body for magical wounds.

Hades hangs back, with Vladimir and Wilhelm on either side; obviously the council are weary of his involvement. Marcus stands near Morgana and me, with his arms crossed and his gaze never leaving Ian. As usual, he does not even look at me.

When Hecate is satisfied that her son is completely fine, she lets go of him and I push Morgana away. He walks over to me and holds out his hand. Taking it, I get to my feet and pull him close, kissing him in front of the entire damn council.