Cursed: Scarlet
Epilogue: New Beginnings

I hate goodbyes.

I hate walking away from things that once meant a lot to me.

But now, it’s time for me to move on. I don’t have to like it, I just need to.

I need to start the life I’ve always dreamed of with the boy I could never have imagined. There is nothing more that can be done.

In a way, I finally feel as if my life has gained some closure, if only in my past with Tristan. And even though my adoptive siblings are married and on the fast track to having children, I’d like to imagine that they will be happy with their soul mates.

Leaving Cassy and Declan after the wedding has been one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to go through, which is saying a lot when I think about all things I’ve actually done to myself and others on a regular basis.

Watching them both smile, arms around their respective spouses almost made me want to cry. Coincidentally, Ian was gripping my hand for dear life, pulling me away slowly as I tried to keep my oldest companions in sight for as long as I could on our walk to the southern gate of Etherea.

Having used it only a few times before, I couldn’t really remember where it was. This is probably why Morgana sent a guide sprite with us to make sure we didn’t get lost. Or possibly to keep us from doing inappropriate things around the defenceless young fey of the forest.

And I had so dearly hoped we could have a few moments of inappropriate behaviour, oh well. It will have to wait for another day.

Upon reaching the boundaries of my mother’s realm, I’d opened the gate and pushed him through, leaving the sprite on the right side before closing it. A different set of guards had led us to the customary outer clearing of a vastly different forest, where I summoned Ian’s favourite birthday present.

The bright red Ferrari glowed in the morning sun as the guards packed our luggage into it, avoiding contact with the actual car as much as possible. When they had finished and disappeared into the treeline once more, Ian opened the passenger door for me and waited until I got in before closing it.

He climbed in a few seconds later, and revved the engine for effect as he pulled into the road. I will never forget the expression of pure, unadulterated joy on his face as we speed down winding roads between farms and small villages.

We make it to France a few hours later, pulling into the drive of my chateau just outside Paris just as the noonday sun reached its zenith. Getting out of the car, I run my hand through my hair, trying not to groan at the stiffness of my limbs from sitting down for so long.

As we walk to the front door, Ian takes my hand in his own and gently squeezes it. As I looked into his eyes, I couldn’t help but smile at him warmly before wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close to kiss me.

When we come up for air again, I let go and walk ahead of him, waving my hand to force the windows open and the curtains to move away. Pushing the heavy door open, I turn to look at him, and laugh at his look of complete wonder.

“Hurry up! There are four hundred more rooms for you to ogle at,” I shout at him, and laugh again. His eyes meet mine and he runs at me, crashing into me as we both fall to the floor. “You know, I’m sure you won’t manage to kill me, your father may just change his mind.”

“I doubt it, you killed his favourite son again,” he mumbles against my neck. Sighing, I push him off me and sit up, trying to quell the bile rising in my throat. Ian wraps his arms around me from behind, probably to try and comfort me, but I just feel like I’m being strangled.

“I not the one he needs to blame for his son’s fate, it was his fault Tristan turned out that way, I just defended myself,” I say, closing my eyes when I feel the tears building. Ian sits heavily behind me, and moves his arms to my waist, forcing me to turn around so that he’s basically cradling me.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty about what happened,” he whispers in my ear as I begin to sob into his chest. “He would really have killed you and taken what power you had.” I can barely move in his embrace, so I just nod a little.

The floor of the entrance hall glows with the light of the opened windows as I slowly release the tension I’ve held in for the past few weeks through my tears.

After a while, Ian gets up and pulls me with him, going up the staircase slowly. I stop abruptly on the landing and wipe my eyes on a corner of my shirt before heading to the right side of the grand staircase and continuing upwards.

He runs to catch up to me while I flick my hands at the sheets covering the furniture, folding them neatly and sending them to the laundry room next to the kitchens. When I reach the master bedroom, I fling the doors open and walk in, flicking my hands at the covers again.

As the windows slide carefully open, I flash into the courtyard and levitate the luggage out of the car, flashing back into the room and dumping them in the middle of the floor. Sitting heavily on a couch, I pull off my boots and lie back; trying to run through a list of things we’ll need before the day is over.

Ian sits next to me, taking my feet and laying them on his lap as he settles into the soft cushions. “Do you want me to show you to your rooms now?” I ask, leaning on my elbows and looking at him. He looks kind of irritated when his eyes meet mine.

“I’m staying in here with you, whether you want me to or not,” he says firmly, causing me to laugh as I flop back again. In retaliation, he tickles the soles of my feet, gripping my ankles so that I can’t pull away. Giggling, I sit up and start attacking him.

Before long, we’re laughing on the floor, tears of mirth running down our cheeks. Taking a deep breath, I try to speak, but he kisses me, and I forget what I want to say. Lying there, on the floor, occasionally giggling and holding hands is the most happy I’ve ever felt.

After spending the night on opposite sides of the giant four poster bed, we decide to go into the city to get food for the starving teenager. We don’t stop holding hands, even as he’s driving and I’m staring out the window.

“Scarlet?” Ian squeezes my hand to get my attention, and points forward. Where do I need to turn?” sitting up, I rub my eyes and stare at the signs.

“Um, up here,” I say, pointing straight ahead. He nods and turns down the street, parking in an empty spot and getting out. Sighing, I open the door and step out, putting on sunglasses to fight off the bright sun. Ian takes my hand gently, and we walk slowly through one of the infamous Parisian markets, full of people and food. Almost every two minutes, he stops to look at something, and I eventually hand my purse to him and go sit on the edge of the fountain.

He eventually shows up, grinning from ear to ear, holding so many bags I can’t help but laugh at him. Getting up, I take a few from him and lead him back to the car, opening the trunk before dumping my load in. I lean against the side with my arms crossed while he rearranges my handiwork and dumps the rest in.

“So, do you want to track down a restaurant here or go back to the house and cook?’ I ask as he slams the top down and turns to face me. He shrugs, so I sigh and walk in the general direction of a few cafés. He runs to keep up and takes my hand, moving the sleeve of my hoodie out of the way.

He kisses the top of my head as I lean against him, letting my nose lead the way to the enticing smells of pastry. When we reach the source, a waiter leads us to a small café on the pavement and hands us our menus. One glance tells me the price of a selection of the baked goods and coffee, so I rest it on the table and stare at my boyfriend.

Eventually he looks up, confused, and I laugh again. “You are just too adorable when you’re confused, you know that?” I say, and he grins at me.

“Well, everything is new to me,” he says, putting down the menu and shrugging. I take his hand and silently turn it over in my own, staring at the lines on his palms, which run over the edges. At least he’s not going to die anytime soon, I think ruefully before squeezing it. “So, what are we going to do today?” he asks and I look up slowly.

“Anything you want, just think of me as your guide to the other side of Paris,” I say and smile. He looks like a kid on his birthday again, his face lit up like a thousand stars. The waiter comes to take our orders and then goes away again, leaving us with a view of the Seine River and the tourists milling around. My attention drifts to the days before and I barely hear him speak again.

“Will you promise me something?” he asks carefully, squeezing my hand to get my attention. I nod and look straight at him. “Will you tell me everything about Paris? Everything you remember and all the stuff you were a witness to?” I nod again and let go as the waiter brings our drinks.

Ian’s gone for the strange iced coffees humans like so much, but I’ve just stayed with the traditional, warm, kind and a glass of water. The waiter mutters something about our food being nearly ready in French and I nod before he turns and leaves. “What do you want to know first?” I ask carefully, stirring in the sugar and frothed milk.

“Have you lived here before?” he looks serious as I nod. “When?”

“Let’s see…during the Roman invasions, again in the Elizabethan age after the mess with- him and then in the Riviera for a decade.” I slouch a little, recalling the events I missed while I was dealing with the Tudor mess.

“Have you been to the Louvre?” he asks, his attention never wavering. I smile slightly and open my mouth, but close it again.

“Would you like to see it?” I ask, putting the cup down. His grin widens, somehow, and I laugh. “Well, to fully appreciate it, you’d need about a year, but the most important works can be seen in a few hours.”

Our first stop is, of course, the Bastille, where I was imprisoned for all of five minutes before flashing out after knocking out six guards and a judge.

And so we walk through another city, holding hands while I teach him about the lives I’d lead in the city and all the things I’d seen. The day ends with us standing atop a hill outside the city, staring at the tower that wasn’t meant to last for more than a decade.

Sighing contently, I turn towards the car, but Ian spins me around again. My head is resting on his shoulder while his hands are gripping my ribcage on either side. “What are you doing?” I whisper, as he pushes me back a little and kisses me softly on the mouth.

“Kissing you-“he says simply, and then I forget the world.

***

Someone is calling my name, loudly. Groaning, I roll over, only to come face to face with my mother. “Scarlet! Get up,” she says, the projection flickering. With a sigh, I sit up, and rub my eyes, Ian still sound asleep.

“What do you want mother?” I ask grumpily, pulling the covers off and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. My motivation falters, and I just sit there, while she paces up and down two dimensions.

“We need you to come in, something came up,” she says, not looking at me. My head whips up and I glare at her. Whenever she says that I usually wind up being sent to kill someone or stop something. “Hades is on trial and we need you to recount what happened,” she starts to wring her hands, looking out the window.

“No, you lot just want to know what I did to Tristan,” I mutter, and get up, running my fingers through my hair as I glare at the floor.

“Well, that too,” she shrugs as she looks at me, but not for long.

“Where do I have to go and when?” I ask, picking up my phone and staring at it to avoid her.

“The Elemental Capitol, noon, today,” she says as the projection begins to fade. Quelling the urge to throw the phone at her nearly causes me to combust and I lie back on the bed.

“Ian?” I poke him in the side and he mumbles, I poke him again and his eyes open. “Get up, we have to go.” He groans loudly and turns over, shielding his eyes as I open the curtains. Clicking my fingers, I make a basic black tank top and jeans materialise on my body before pulling on yesterday’s boots.

Crouching next to Ian again, I kiss him before sending a jolt of cold energy into him. With a gasp, he sits up and rubs his eyes before glaring at me. “Was that really necessary?” he growls and I nod before getting up again and flashing into the kitchen to get him food.

When I reappear, he’s in the shower and we have two more hours to get to my father’s realm. Sighing I set the food down and go out the balcony doors to stare at the grounds while I wait. When I hear him stumble out the bathroom, I go back in. As my eyes adjust, I focus on his chest and the tattoos that twist around it and onto his arms. Before I can stop myself, I point at them and ask: ”Where did you get those?”

He shrugs and pulls a shirt over them, looking awkwardly away. “I made a stupid decision and these are the result of that,” he says gruffly and picks up the plate I put out for him. Ignoring me, he walks out the door into the passage while eating with his hands.

Sighing, I follow him, closing the doors and windows with magic while I walk. The courtyard is rather gloomy in the early morning light, and the animals seem to have disappeared for the most part.

Ian stares at the car, his plate probably back in the kitchen. Shaking my head at him, I walk to the inner gate and wave my hand across the crest, murmuring the spell to turn it into a portal. The vines shift and the bars start to glow, so I wave him forward and stand a little out of the way.

The light from the islands spills through as I hold my hand out to him. He takes it hesitantly, but I grip his hand firmly and walk through, shutting the portal behind me.

The sight of my father’s Capitol brings back unfortunate memories, which I try to tune out before walking into the main road between some of the flashiest houses Ian will ever see. Many of the prominent Elementals live here, and they all have eccentric ideas about what houses should look like.

Take the glowing transparent carriage about the size of a normal house, for example. Or the giant fishbowl containing a medieval castle. It’s amazing what they think of, I mumble in my mind, trying to remember how to get to the main palace from where we are. Unfortunately, as I look down, still holding Ian’s hand tightly in my own, I notice about five shadows following us. Sighing, I stop in my tracks and wait for the guards to walk around us and greet me.

“Princess,” they all bow simultaneously, with my father’s head guard smirking at my boots in the centre. Rolling my eyes, I motion for them to stop and let go of Ian to cross my arms.

“Hello Ky,” I say, about as civilly as I am able.

“May I?” he says, gesturing behind him, I nod briefly and he turns around, the guards flanking Ian and I on either side. Who in the name of Hecate is that? Ian asks, taking my hand again.

My father’s head guard, he’s a complete head case, so keep an eye out for anything he might try, I reply blocking everything out but Ian. He nods imperceptibly and keeps his gaze ahead of him.

The palace grows closer with every step, making my stomach clench and unclench itself in anticipation…or fear. My fists open and close nervously, and I can feel the worry of the guards around me. Why there are five of them is a complete mystery to me. Then again, Marcus is as overprotective as it gets.

There drawbridge drops in front of us, which prompts a synchronised eye roll from Ian and I, and a fit of giggles. Ky shoots a glare my way, so I smile sweetly and straighten up. “Let’s get this over with,” I say loudly, and lead them in.

“Where are they?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at Ky. He points to the throne room, of course, why not just intimidate everyone father.

When the giant double doors open, I almost turn around and walk straight back out of the courtyard. I stop dead in my tracks, staring open-mouthed at the one person I never wanted to see again. Why in the name of all that is unholy is she here? I scream at my parents through the link I can’t get rid of.

Ian looks at me from where he’s standing, worried about my reaction to the sight of what must seem to be a normal woman, even if she has green skin. I grip the insides of my arms for dear life; trying to ignore my natural instinct to get as far away from her as possible while Ky and the other guards look around in confusion. The woman walks slowly down the blue marble steps, her gown trailing behind her regally.

Gritting my teeth, I straighten up and hide my repulsion behind a blank expression, before taking Ian’s hand. She smiles at me and gestures for us to follow her into the palace. Sighing, I pull on his hand and follow my evil (if former) stepmother, Garnet.

Somehow, I just knew they would do this, I think to Ian as we enter the throne room. I let go of his hand reluctantly and walk forward with my thumbs hooked on my back pockets. Hades is sitting calmly in a chair, his hands cuffed to the arms while the Council sit opposite him on their customary thrones. Another chair is set a little to the right of the dais, most likely for me, but I stand in front of them anyway meeting their eyes one by one.

Marcus looks away quickly, but Morgana and Vladimir give me quick smiles, Wilhelm’s eyes never leave Hades and Hecate looks bored. In other words, I’m their damn dancing monkey today, I think ruefully.

“Scarlet, why don’t you have a seat over there?” Morgana says calmly. When I’ve plonked into it, crossing my right leg over the left, she proceeds, “On the night of one Tristan Nightshade’s escape from Damanta, what is your recollection of the events?”

“I was searching for his half-brother, Ian O’Connor, as I had guessed that he wished to tie himself to the realms of the living through sacrificing someone of his own blood. He managed to trick me into believing his thoughts were Ian’s and that his magical trace was also Ian’s. I followed both to the testing arena, confronting Tristan in order to protect Ian from him, as was my charge by the Lower Council.”

“After my confrontation, he began attacking me with magic and I retaliated. Eventually, we resorted to weaponry and he stabbed me through the heart, resulting in my sword falling to the floor and then Ian showed up,” I say and look at him pointedly from where he’s sitting in the back of the room. “Tristan’s attention shifted immediately and he seemed to forget I was even there. He trapped me in a cloud of shades, which sucked away at my energy while he attacked his half-brother.”

I look down at my hands as my fingers tug on my bracelets before going on: “He cut at Ian, and I became enraged, breaking my bonds and releasing a large amount of magical force in my upheaval.”

“He was trapped, and I took my chance to bind him to Damanta for good. I took a few drops of my blood, mixed with Ian’s, so that he could never break free again. I then bound him to the realm of Damanta. We both have to die for his bonds to loosen, but even then he will be trapped in the inner-most barrier.”

I look up, only to see every single face slack-jawed, except for Ian’s. “When he was gone, I healed Ian and you showed up,” I clear my throat and look away. “You know the rest.”

“Well, thank you for that, you may join Ian,” Morgana says, and I get up, not looking at anything but him. At least Garnet had left before I started speaking. Sinking into the chair, I take Ian’s hand and squeeze it, trying to hide how nervous I am.

What do you think they’ll do if he’s guilty? Ian looks at me, but I keep my eyes on my feet.

They’ll tie him to a rock on a deserted island where carnivorous birds will pick at his organs on a daily basis, I answer simply, and he stiffens.

For how long?

It depends on what else he did wrong lately, I reply softly, my hand squeezing his again. Don’t worry, it won’t last long, they’ve all been through it at least once.

He sighs and I let go, the Council have reached a conclusion. Marcus rises slowly, and walks slowly towards Hades, stopping midway between the dais and the accused.

“Hades of the realm Damanta, Lord of the Dead and Keeper of Spirits, you are found innocent of all charges in the case of your son’s escape. But take this as a warning, if he escapes again, it will be on your head,” Marcus looks down at him before waving his hand, the cuffs melting off the chair. “The defences upon the borders between your realms and that of the demons’ shall be strengthened at a later date.” He turns and walks back to his seat, not before giving me a knowing glance.

Hades sweeps out of the room, taking all the tension along. I stand carefully and turn towards the door, but Marcus clears his throat, so I turn and stare at him. “Scarlet, there is another matter we wish to discuss with you. Please wait outside Mr O’Connor-“

“He stays, or I don’t,” I say, crossing my arms. “He listens anyway through our link.” Somehow, they all share a glance, but Marcus clears his throat and continues.

“There is trouble brewing in the mortal realm-“he starts, but I hold up a hand.

“You are evidently mistaken as to my involvement in anything you organise, father,” I say, walking towards the dais and stopping just in front of him. “I am not your jailer, or assassin or ambassador. I do not follow your orders anymore; I actually have no obligation to any of you. I did as you asked before because I had nothing to lose, now I do have something,” I look back at Ian and smile.

What I really want to say is: “I am so sick of saving the world now, why can’t someone else have the pleasure? Why do I have to be the saviour of the earth while most of its inhabitants don’t even know I’ve gone and saved it? I’ve spent most of my existence looking after the mortal realm, and I hate it. I don’t know why they can’t just destroy themselves and get it over with.” But I don’t, I’m trying to prove that I’m actually a capable, functioning adult.

“So you can replace someone else to do your dirty work, I’m taking a break from this madness,” I say, spinning on my heel to head to the door. A magical field wraps around me, probably to stop me, but I pull it into my skin and keep going. “If you ever try that again, Marcus, I will take every drop of magic you have and turn it on you,” I say, looking over my shoulder.

We walk down the hall quickly before Morgana appears right in front of me. “I still need to ask you something,” she says as I curse and stop abruptly.

“What is it now, Morgana?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

“Have you had any contact with Persephone lately?” my skin grows cold and I can feel my facial expression harden as I grip Ian’s hand tightly.

“Why? Are you going to try and blackmail her into doing your dirty work?” I hiss the words at her and she backs away. “Even if I did know where she is, I wouldn’t tell you.” I walk around her and pull Ian along.

He’s staring at me, but I shake my head and keep walking. I pass guards, and members of Elemental nobility, I pass citizens of the capitol, I pass everyone as I walk straight out of my old world, and into one I never thought I’d get, holding the hand of the only person I now care for.