Cursed: Scarlet
Chapter 1: Screw-Ups and Other Problems

Walking through the deserted warehouse, I open my palm, and summon a plain ball of white energy to light my way. Stepping carefully over the small pile of rubble, I make my way further and further down the main walk way, grimacing as I scratch my boot tip on some glass.

A perfectly good pair of combat boots now nearly irreparable, even in my own head I sound like a grouchy old woman complaining about shoes. Where is this idiot? I have better things to do than deal with a deranged Lower Council member currently holding a death-wish.

“Councilman Aldrich”, I call out,” I need to speak with you.” Preferably before you decide to do something stupid, like that, I think as he steps out of the shadows.

“Scarlet, a pleasure I presume”, he says, pointing a gun at my chest, his bland features just serving to irritate me further. He seems a tad dull for a minion of Hades, and then again, the man invented narcissism, having plain minions suited his motives perfectly.

“Don’t be stupid”, I snort and knock it out of his hands. “We both know my curse forbids my death.” My disdain for him must show, because his face hardens with malice. For some reason, he reminds me of his boss with that expression, and I have to stifle my small chuckle before it provokes him.

“Are you sure?” he smirks at me. “Has anyone tried recently?” Sighing, I cross my arms and resign myself for the scene many have run through before him. People never learn, especially dark mages, they were just the poster children for idiocy.

“This century? No, though I assume you’re going to”, I say walking away. It’s not long before a shot sounds and a bullet wedges itself in my heart. Rage builds in the pit of my stomach and I turn to face him, energy forming in my hands.

The council had better have a replacement for him, because I’m sure as the galaxies above am not going to forgive him for ruining my favourite jacket as well as my shoes. The moron starts shouting profanities instead of running away, making my targeting all the simpler as I aim blue orbs of freezing flames at him in rapid succession. Oh to be young and idiotic, I think ruefully as his screams of pain echo off the walls.

If ever, this was probably the worst day of my very, very long existence. Kill one little ‘elder’ and suddenly I’m the new number one most hated person in the magical dimension. I cross my arms and roll my eyes while the other four council members continue to lecture me. Sinking into my chair, I await the ‘slap on the wrist’ I usually get.

“…your punishment will be to attend high school, again”, says Amelda. Her cherubic features are ruined by the frown on her face, and her long brown hair seems lank, unusual for such a powerful mage. She must be really torn up about Aldrich…not that it’s my problem.

My head whips up. “You have got to be kidding me.” I can just feel Sapphira’s self-satisfied smirk as Amelda sits back down. It’s bad enough I have to babysit this lot on a regular basis, now I have to deal with a bunch of teenagers? Fate is a cruel, heartless little demon.

“No, we are not. You obviously cannot recall the laws and regulations of our society, so it is high time you are reacquainted with them.” Granted, I am the reason most of them exist, but that doesn’t mean I particularly care what they are. It takes away most of the fun…

“Oh, please”, I say, rolling my eyes again. “I helped make those laws, I helped form this council, and you lot have the audacity to attempt to punish me?” They may hold power, but I exceed them in every way, and this farce was simply for my amusement.

And I am currently running out of patience.

“Do you recall what the High Council charged you with, all those years ago?” Dmitri asks, obviously to distract me. Vampires could be so cunning when it suited them.

“I have to protect those who will define the immortal races”, I scoff. “None of them survive.” Not for lack of trying on my part, but I don’t say as much. Sometimes it is better to hide the past in the back of my mind than to recall all the gory details.

They all share a glance, well, those in attendance anyway. “Wait, what happened?” I ask, gripping the table in order to hide my excitement. Finally, something to do! Although babysitting doesn’t really sound all that fun, to be frank, not that I care right now, I’ve drunk my way through London three times, I need a new hobby.

“A child has been born of two Originals, Hecate and Hades.” Amelda is refusing to look at me; Gabriel is too occupied with his nails, though Camille seems a bit too relaxed for my taste, shouldn’t my mother’s representative be fighting this? Sapphira hasn’t even bothered to speak me since I walked in, typically. “We have been instructed to give you free will in helping him, no measure must be spared.”

“Do we know if he’s still alive?” I ask, barely containing my shock, never mind that the First Mage and the God of Death actually stayed in a room long enough to conceive a child together. Those two wanted to murder each other for the better part of three millennia, but I guess anything can happen. I mean, I survived, after all and my parents just love to disagree with one another.

Then her words truly sink in…no measure spared, huh? Ooh, I can’t wait to get this over with, and destroy stuff…mostly destroy stuff. I could possibly escape boredom for a few months while I was at it. Maybe this kid would be worth tracking down after all.

No matter how excited I was to have something to do, I was still dreading this day, the day I would have to attend my own damn school. As I drive up the long driveway in my beautiful red Ferrari Spider 458 Convertible, I can’t help noticing how many people are turning around and staring. Although I’d arrived as inconspicuously as possible yesterday, I felt the need to make a grand entrance to make sure they all knew I was here.

Walking back into my tower had been surreal. The last time I’d been in this castle was about four hundred years ago, when I’d started the school. Back then it had been far more…exciting. I’d almost forgotten about the view from the windows, the feel of the fabrics beneath my fingertips. It’s been so long, and for a good reason.

All too soon, I have to get out and face the adoring crowds. Running my hand nervously through my black curls, I sigh and opened the door, pulling my bag along with me.

The whispers started soon after. Teenage mages and elementals are so predictable; I shake my head, still refusing to make eye contact with any of them. Curiosity is meant to kill the cat, I think while rolling my eyes.

“Is that –“

“No way!”

“It can’t be –“

“…Scarlet…”

“The Scarlet?”

I tried really hard to keep my head down and my expression neutral, but the closer I got to the main doors the louder the whispers got. I wasn’t paying much attention to anything higher than my feet until another pair stopped right in front of me. I looked up and into a pair of startlingly green eyes set into an equally attractive face. I quickly pulled my fringe out of my face while the guy stared at me.

I look him up and down, taking in the ear length, dark brown hair and the relatively tall frame that has more muscle than one could expect for his age without drug use. His eyes, or what I can make out of them, are unnaturally green, a trait of his ‘pure’ lineage, no doubt.

“Can I help you?” I ask in a resigned tone, crossing my arms and giving him one of my best bored looks. Centuries of practice have made them second nature. Unimpressed, he breathes in deeply before opening his mouth again, someone has a temper…

“Are you Scarlet Evans?” he asks in an equally resigned tone, mirroring my stance, but not my facial expression. Sadly, he seemed to be shielding his magical field, quite a feat for what seems to be a seventeen year old. I wonder…no, probably not.

“Yeah, why?” I say, shifting to my other foot. My black jeans are pulling on my calf muscles uncomfortably, but I don’t want to adjust them right now, he already can’t make eye contact as it is. Just imagining his facial expression if I caught him looking down my shirt is enough to make me smile, inside, of course.

“I’m meant to be showing you around”, he says and turns around after what seems to be an appreciative cursory glance. “Try to keep up.” All the while, his fellow students are falling silent when I pass them. Somehow, he manages to exude my favourite emotion, indifference.

“You don’t actually need to, I’ve been to high school before”, I say. Never mind that I started the school he’s currently attending, though I probably would be at a loss as to where the classes are. Confound the Lower Council; this is most likely their doing.

“I was told to show you around, so I’m going to show you around”, he says as he yanks open the door. The other students have watched the entire exchange on bated breath, amazed at how he is acting towards me. At least some people know who I am, or behave that way, I think as I follow him, admiring his ass all the while.

I roll my eyes. Thousands of years old and this guy acts as if I’m beneath him. He starts muttering and pointing out various things. “Library…main quad…office…” and he opens the door. I walk up to the modern-looking counter and wait for the blonde woman to stop yammering at her crystal ball. They ruined a perfectly good antechamber for this…nonsense, I roll my eyes again.

“Ah, Miss Evans”, she says when the call finally ends. “We’ve been expecting you.” She gets out of her chair, her red heels clicking as she walks. Someone obviously told her a long time ago that she was pretty, but age ruins even the most beautiful faces. Not that I had to worry about that, immortality comes with a few perks.

I roll my eyes while she gets my forms, leaning my elbows on the counter. My very cheerful guide is patiently waiting for me, scowling in that wonderfully attractive anti-social way. Maybe there’s hope for him after all, even if he is a useless mage-child with too many issues.

“Here you go”, says the woman and I turn quickly around. “Sign here, here and here.” I do as she says and she hands me a class schedule. So much for parental anything, I sigh to myself as I take the forms.

“Welcome back to Blacktower, Miss Evans”, she says as I turn my back on her. Welcome back to the castle you hate, filled with vile little children who either hate you or worship your every move, I think to myself. Strangely, I’m not as nauseated at the prospect of attending high school as I thought, must be the shock.

My guide gets up and opens the door for me. “Thank you” and he grunts in response, closing it behind him after I walk into the middle of the corridor. Now that we’re alone, I actually notice what he’s wearing. Grey jeans, black band t-shirt with long sleeves and typical mage boots. He could have been my type, if it weren’t for the age problem.

“So do you have a name or am I going to have to come up with one on my own?” I ask sarcastically, pulling on the strap of my bag. My bracelet gets caught momentarily, but with a yank, it comes free. Hiding my wrist behind my back, I wait for him to respond.

He looks at me in surprise and mutters, “Ian.” He looks down, obviously expecting me to do or say something pretentious. Or he could just be embarrassed at his name, who knows. I don’t really care for the feelings of children anyway. Students mill everywhere, obviously having nothing better to do; when in the good sweet hell do these people actually get taught anything?

“Well, Ian, it’s nice to meet you”, I say but I don’t bother trying to shake his hand, he looks like the type to cringe at the prospect of social interactions.

“So where’s…Advanced Spell Casting?” I say, looking down at the schedule and estimating the time it is now. I look back up at him and he points down the hallway, obviously tired of talking. “The excitement is just going to overwhelm me,” I mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

We walk down the corridor and I almost see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly stops at a door and opens it. I walk in and he follows me, hands in his pockets. Socially awkward, isn’t he? I think to myself before turning to face my current form of torture.

Many a conversation stops as I walk further into the U-shaped room; Ian goes to a desk in the back row and sits down. A bell rings and a tall man walks in, he looks to be about forty, or older, with salt and pepper hair and a tweed suit. “Miss Evans”, he says, “Your seat is next to Miss Michelson.”

He stands behind the large oak desk and points at the open desk next to a girl with dark blue hair who seems to be melting into her desk. When I walk away, he opens the cliché leather briefcase and begins to speak.

I grimace and flop into the chair, blocking him out. The man starts talking about magical energy and how to manifest it into a ball. I sigh audibly, how is this meant to be ‘advanced’? Has magic itself down-graded this much since I…oh, wait, it’s the beginning of their final year.

Suddenly, people are getting up and are holding their hands in front of them. The teacher is walking around and recording their progress on a lame clipboard. Sighing, I cross my arms and swing my legs up onto my desk, slouching against the back of the chair for something to do.

I turn my head to watch Ian’s progress after a few minutes; he has a consistent ball in his hands, though he has to keep making it smaller. I can never understand why people feel the need to hide their energy; a healthy dose of respect in any realm requires a measure of your power.

The girl next to me, Michelson, seems to be a bit nervous, her hands are shaking as she struggles to keep the ball in one place. So much for Advanced…I could do this when I was four.

Soon, I have to demonstrate too. I hold my hands out and a bright white energy forms itself in them. I decide to show off a little and throw it into the middle of the room. The ball expands and my new classmates gasp in awe. The teacher scowls at me, so I click my fingers and the energy flows back into me. Thankfully, the bell rings and I make my escape.

I can’t believe I have two more years of this, just to replace Hecate’s child. And at my own damn school too. Sadly, Ian catches up to me, mid-mental rant, forcing me to stop stomping heavily on the cobbled walkway between the small garden scapes. My eyes take in the subtle changes to the original design, obviously something I shall be speaking to the headmaster about.

“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” he asks me. Biting back snide comments, I just keep walking, hoping he might just go away. Sighing loudly, I keep walking, stomping even more harshly now that I have to deal with his talkative version.

“Yeah, away”, I reply as I reach the main quad. The oak tree is still there, in the middle. I plonk myself onto the bench on its east side and glare up at him. Persistence is obviously his only social skill.

“We have Astronomy now”, he says, crossing his muscular arms. I spot a few swirling tattoos poking out of his long sleeves, how very interesting. Now why would a pubescent mage have such intricate magical ink in a school intended for rich brats with no actual hope of becoming proper spell-casters?

“And your point is?” leaning back on my arms, I become extremely fascinated with my black combat boots, noting that the laces are beginning fray, how tragic. With a small surge of magic, they wind themselves up nicely, growing plastic tips when they’re done.

“I have to guide you, or I get into shit”, he says. “So could you please get up and let me?” He crosses his arms, in what I assume to be an intimidating gesture, but I just look away again. For some reason, he decides to sit down next to me. I scoot away, avoiding any contact with him; some of us have our own issues.

“How can we have Astronomy in daylight?” I ask, already knowing the answer, pushing people’s buttons is just too much fun to give up on. Though it’s becoming tiresome with just him to annoy.

“Because the ceiling is enchanted.” Duh, I cast the damn spell; I stifle the thought and look up at the blue sky dotted with the fluffiest white clouds I’ve seen to date. Sighing, I look down again and pull my bag closer, fiddling with the strap while he looks away, clenching that fine jaw of his in irritation.

“Well I’ll be”, I flutter my lashes sarcastically at him and get up, heading straight for the classroom. Ian, being just a bit shocked, sprints to catch up. They couldn’t change the Astronomy class’s location, seeing as I’m the only person who knows how to remake the spell. Oh it’s good to be this powerful…

Yet another teacher glares at me, and this time I’m placed next to his surliness. The teacher is outlining the heavens to the attentive children, so I decide to have a nap. All too soon, Ian jabs me in the ribs. “What are you doing?” he whisper-yells. “Pay attention”, he jabs me again. I grab his hand and bend it back, enjoying the umpteenth shocked expression on his face today.

“I was around when people started mapping these constellations, boy; I don’tneedto pay attention.” I let his hand go and continue with my nap. He sighs and I feel his attention drifting from me, but I give no indication of it. Finally drifting off to sleep…

We soon move on to another class, this time about the laws of the magical realm. Ian and I are finally on time. We sit next to one another again and he sighs when I put my head on my arms. “Today we begin with the laws of wielding…for example…you may not actively seek to take another’s power…you may not maim mortals or reveal to them that magic still exists…” Ian jabs me when the bell rings and stacks his books, evidently waiting for me. Smirking, I take my time while he taps his foot impatiently; I can do this all day…

Head-hunting a specific teenager in a large group of stupid teenagers is not something I’d recommend. Many of them are irritating, powerless and disappointing in many ways. I actually wondered how their parents could stand them, until I recalled that Blacktower was a boarding school.

I searched the castle from top to bottom, planting spells that would register the extreme amount of raw power that was (supposedly) a trait of an Immortal child. The Originals, such as my parents, were never sure about their reproductive capabilities until I was born. I guessed that they’d never really been bothered until I came along.

Though it probably isn’t surprising, they all have the mentality of people in their early twenties. Believe me, it makes gathering them together nearly impossible for any period longer than two days.

My search seemed fruitless, until one day, when I was combing the eastern tower again, that I felt a surge of energy coming from below me. Flashing down the stairs, I stopped at the landing where I estimated it was coming from and opened the door.

A staircase leads down from it and into a conservatory-like room with windows on the rounded walls showing me a view of the sea. My eyes raked over the floor for the source of the magic before travelling to the window, where two students seemed to be fighting.

Squaring my shoulders, I walked a ways down, intent on breaking them apart, until a ball of energy sped towards me. I raised a hand, dissipating it, and looked around for my attacker. Someone was cowering behind a pipe near the far end, so I flashed until I was right in front of them.

The culprit had a black hoodie on, pulled low to obscure their face, so I put my hand around the child’s neck and raised it to my eye-level. The hood fell back, revealing a young boy, most likely fifteen in human years. He resembled a mouse, in a way, with brown hair and dark brown eyes currently widened in fear.

“Why did you try to make me unconscious?” I asked, shaking him a little before pushing him against the wall. I summoned a fire ball in my right hand while I glared at him, waiting for him to respond. When he shook his head, I raised my hand to his face, forcing him to panic as the heat grew nearer.

“I- I- t-thought you were a t-teacher,” he stuttered, trying to get his head away from the ball of fire. After I growled in frustration and then dropped him, completely disgusted at his cowardice.

“So you were willing to kill them, and for what, to protect your friends over there? You disgust me,” I turned away from him, but thought better of it. “If I ever catch you here again, I’ll shove a few dozen of these where the sun doesn’t shine, got it?” the fireball is almost close enough to roast his eyebrows as I speak.

He nodded, hoping to get me away from him as soon as possible. I waved my hand over him, sending him to sleep, and continued to the doorway. The other two were still going at it, a girl and boy the same age as the other one.

“What, precisely, are you doing?” I ask, leaning against the doorway with my arms folded. They stop mid-battle and stare at me with open mouths. My patience had run out and it probably showed, because their magic dissipated and their hands hung limp at their sides.

Looking closer, I saw that the girl was an air Elemental, which explained why the mage boy looked as if he’d been flung around in a hurricane. Her jeans were torn, but it seemed to be more fashionable than anything else.

With one hand, I lifted them into the air and stripped them of their powers momentarily. When they stopped squirming, I relented my hold. “Your powers will return in three hours, but if I ever catch you doing this again, you will never get them back, understood?” they nodded and I turned to go, but thought better of it, once again.

With another wave of my hand, I wiped their memories and restored their magic, but I left a small surprise for the next time they tried to fight with their (if inept) powers, and anyone who fought against them. With a flip of my hair and a sigh, I left the eastern tower.

Weeks passed with Ian (misguidedly) trying to get me to pay attention and behave and I actively ignore him. Though the more time I spend around him the more I start to suspect that he is the child I was sent to replace. My searches have turned up nothing, and his ability to cloak his energy makes me wonder.

After six months, he finally starts talking to me properly and we get to know each other. I tell him about my awful childhood and he describes his family, his siblings, but never his origins. I wonder if he even knows who his real parents are, or if he truly believes that he is an average mage.

It seems that Hecate’s plan worked, if you only considered his safety. But I couldn’t help wondering if it was worth him feeling so alone and left out. He must have noticed his strength at some stage, and then figured out how to hide enough that no one could suspect him. Though I doubt he really appreciated his gifts yet, if he even was this child.

He seems to need the small bit of normalcy he has left, so I keep my suspicions to myself until it is absolutely necessary for him to replace out. I’d honestly prefer for it never to be necessary, but with kids like him, something usually turns telling them into a pressing issue.

“So where did you grow up?” he asks me unexpectedly on a warm spring day. The bees buzz through the flower beds as we sit on one of the many benches in the gardens, the school was on strict orders to maintain, but never destroy, the gardens.

“Etherea, most of the time,” I reply, completely serious, looking pointedly at a rosebush that was being trimmed by a pair of gardening shears, one of many controlled by a gardener nearby.

“You’re kidding, right?” he looks at me in bewilderment when I turn my attention back to him; obviously he doesn’t believe the stories. The urge to change topics is almost overwhelming, so I do, in the hopes of keeping him from asking about other…things.

“Ian, have you ever heard the story of the girl who murdered the son of Hades and was subsequently cursed?” I ask him, gauging his reaction covertly, hoping he gets the hint.

“Yeah…but that’s just a myth, isn’t it?” he shrugs, and I look away again, nervously playing with one of my leather bracelets.

“No it’s not” I sigh. “I’m that girl.” It’s difficult to live with my curse, but it’s even worse to have to explain how much it sucks to people who just don’t get it. Especially the young, they seem to be the least adjusted to the realities of life and all its magical accessories.

“But how – why- what?” he looks so adorable when he’s confused. I let go of the bracelet and begin to pull on my hair, half hiding behind it.

“I was meant to marry his son, another immortal child, in order to bring about peace between his realm and my parents’ “I stare at my toes and continue. “But his son was a cruel, ruthless being. He didn’t care about me, he proved that in many ways”, I spat on the ground, Ian doesn’t move.

“What did he do?” I sigh, hoping he won’t run around the school telling everyone. I’d hate to have to wipe the minds of so many people at once; it takes up so much time and energy. Though he seems to be the loner type, never socializing, not many friends, and a real introvert. I really should not have read every book involving psychology; I think to myself, I’m not meant to be a bloody therapist.

“First, he tried to rape me, but when I overpowered him and stabbed him just below the heart, he became enraged and started reciting a spell that was meant to drain me of all my powers. I broke his neck, even while I could feel myself weakening. When Hades discovered me, holding his son in my lap, he became enraged as well.”

My skin breaks out in goose bumps, and I rub the arm closest to Ian so he can’t see how the events still affect me. I may seem cold-hearted to many who encounter me, but I really don’t look on killing people with a light heart, or any joy whatsoever, due to my upbringing. To the fey, life is sacred, no matter how certain creatures choose to spend it.

“He took his son’s body and gave it to his minions to prepare him for the rites. As soon as they had left, he turned to me, and in his grief uttered the words that haunt me to this day…”

“‘You will never know the peace of eternal rest, you will never enter Damanta or stand before my throne, you will never be forgiven for what you have done.’” The words flow bitterly out of me in Hades’ voice and I shudder. Ian wipes a tear from my cheek and I look at him, wishing that he was repelled by me instead of fascinated, I don’t want to hurt him like I have many others before him.