Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 326 - Awkward sisters

Scarlett stared at her doppelganger, seated across from her in the carriage. Evelyne, sitting beside the other Scarlett, looked between the two of them, her expression frozen in shock.

“What are you doing here?” Scarlett demanded, voice clipped.

The other Scarlett offered a faint smile, a carefully measured expression that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “To meet you, of course.”

Scarlett let her gaze flicker to the carriage door, then back to her unwelcome guest. “What happened to the coachman?”

She’d heard the horses outside, but nothing else had suggested trouble.

“He is perfectly unharmed.” The woman smoothed a hand down the velvet folds of her dress. “Merely…preoccupied. My retainer is keeping him company.”

Scarlett’s eyes narrowed. The coachman wasn’t a major concern — she doubted he’d been killed. Still, she didn’t appreciate her counterpart taking such liberties.

“…Whom did you choose in the end?” she asked after a pause.

“Lithén,” the other Scarlett replied. “They were…the most adequate. And the restrictions you imposed left me few options. They may not be ideal, but they are effective. I could not be bothered finding someone who would complicate matters unnecessarily.”

“I see…” Scarlett’s lips thinned.

Lithén was a dangerous choice. Straightforward, perhaps, but still dangerous.

The quiet stretched between them as they studied one another. Scarlett hadn’t expected the woman to appear like this, but her existence was no surprise. It was, after all, a consequence of Scarlett’s own actions.

“Have you enjoyed your time in the Material Realm?” she asked with little warmth.

The other Scarlett tilted her head. “It has been much as I expected. I do find some satisfaction in the freedom to move as I please. Yet, many aspects fall short. For instance, I find little joy in having to perform menial tasks myself.”

“You were aware of what you agreed to when you accepted my proposal,” Scarlett said.

“That I was.” The woman considered her with calm, amber eyes.

Before Scarlett left the Memory formed by Thainnith’s legacy within the Hall of Echoes, she had met with the fragment of the Anomalous One—manifest in her own likeness—one final time. She had made a proposal born both of ambition and dissatisfaction, sharpened by witnessing Arlene’s end. Frustration with the system, this world, and the unseen forces governing them. She had rejected the fragment’s original offer, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t present her own.

Among all the beings she had encountered, the Anomalous One alone appeared to match her in both awareness and capacity to challenge the underpinnings of this world. Not just Fate, but the framework beneath it. Even Arlene, who had forged her own Memory and aided Scarlett against the Anomalous One’s other fragment, had ultimately accepted an ending that seemed almost predetermined by the system and its creator. Meanwhile, neither the Anomalous One nor its fragments had prompted even a single quest from the system, despite their significance.

Scarlett still wasn’t sure whether the system or this world’s Fate could be labelled as malevolent in any fashion. She suspected it was far more nuanced than she would prefer. That said, she knew enough to recognise their oppressive and manipulative tendencies, and she had no desire to operate entirely at the behest of a power she neither understood nor trusted.

As it stood, she relied on the system and had no real way of opposing it directly. So she had considered a compromise.

The Anomalous One had originally promised her the means to reshape the world as she desired, but at too steep a potential cost. In contrast, her counteroffer gave the Anomalous One a way to exert some influence on the Material Realm while limiting its capacity for harm and—hopefully—opening up a future avenue for her to use the Anomalous One’s qualities for her own ends.

In practice, this meant allowing the other Scarlett to manifest in the Material Realm without having to be suppressed by Thainnith’s seals. The task might have seemed insurmountable, considering everything the Anomalous One had to go through to achieve something similar. But for Scarlett, it proved unexpectedly simple. Instead of letting the fragment remain a mere construct within a Memory, she used Thainnith’s lingering power and knowledge to fashion something akin to an Auranthial—an infused vessel of a past existence—anchored by one of her artifacts. The other Scarlett could inhabit the vessel. She had no access to the Anomalous One’s powers and wasn’t much stronger than Scarlett had once been, but she could now exist and move freely in the Material Realm.

Naturally, Scarlett had taken precautions. She’d carved a pact into the Auranthial’s core, heavily restricting the other Scarlett’s actions. Similar to a demon bound by a mortal’s pact, her counterpart couldn’t directly act against Scarlett’s interests, harm her, ally with the Hallowed Cabal or Tribe of Sin, or command more than one powerful follower, among other limitations. Any violation of these terms would result in the fragment’s immediate annihilation.

For the Anomalous One—and the other Scarlett—this was a chance to affect the world as more than a fragment. For Scarlett, it was a means to gain another tool in shaping it. A dangerous one, certainly, but the most calculated risk she could take.

“Scarlett…” Evelyne’s voice broke the silence. Her gaze shifted uncertainly between them before settling on Scarlett. “What’s going on here? Who is she…?”

The other Scarlett leaned back in her seat, sparing Evelyne a brief—if dismissive—glance. “You have long known that the Scarlett you are familiar with is not as she once was. Shifts in personality, gaps in memory, curious decisions, an uncharacteristic tolerance for all sorts of drivel and trivialities — all signs of a fundamental change. I…am what remains of the original Scarlett Hartford.”

Evelyne stared at the woman. Her lips parted, but no words came.

“That is only partially true,” Scarlett said coldly. “You are a distorted reflection of who I once was. Nothing more.”

The other Scarlett turned slowly to meet her gaze. She said nothing, but studied Scarlett with quiet intensity.

Scarlett was sure that, if she could, the woman would have argued otherwise. But the conditions inscribed into the Auranthial ensured that the other Scarlett was restricted in her words. She couldn’t reveal the full truth of their circumstances, nor reveal Scarlett’s true identity.

Even so, her presence here might have been a deliberate attempt to test the limits of those constraints.

Evelyne’s confused eyes snapped back to Scarlett. “How… How is this even possible? I don’t understand.”

“Of course you do not,” the other Scarlett said, clicking her tongue. “Rare was there ever a time when you did.” She shook her head, focusing on Scarlett. “I see no reason to squander our breath enlightening her. It is as disgraceful as ever to see her floundering like a commoner faced with every minor revelation.”

The sharpness of her words seemed to land like a slap on Evelyne, who froze. “I—” she began, but the rest caught in her throat.

“That is enough.” Scarlett glared at her counterpart. “You will not speak to her in such a way.”

The other Scarlett raised a brow. “Oh? Have you taken it upon yourself to dictate even the manner in which I speak? I do believe that was not part of the conditions we agreed to. You may have softened towards her, but Evelyne remains what she has always been—” Her gaze shifted to Evelyne, and a shadow of disdain flickered across her features. “—an insufferable child. Base and vulgar, lacking the refinement one would expect of her station.”

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“Yet you do not hate her,” Scarlett said.

The other Scarlett looked back at her, paused, then answered, “…Nor do you. But that does not mean treating her with care comes naturally to either of us, does it?”

Scarlett didn’t respond immediately. She regarded the woman closely, then turned her attention to Evelyne. The younger woman’s face was a storm of conflicted sentiments — a blend of hurt, confusion, and barely restrained emotion.

“I will explain later,” Scarlett said. She held Evelyne’s gaze, willing her to understand.

Evelyne’s jaw clenched. For a moment, it looked as if she might protest, but in the end, she only gave a small, reluctant nod.

Scarlett nodded back, then turned to her counterpart again. “Why are you here, specifically? What is it you want?”

She was surprised the woman even knew how to find her like this. Maybe she should have brought Fynn today. If he’d been around, they wouldn’t have been caught so off guard.

The other Scarlett reached into a small bag tucked between her and the wall—one Scarlett hadn’t noticed until now—and pulled out a polished, obsidian-black rod, no longer than a forearm. Silver lines ran across its surface in spiralling, intricate patterns that pulsed faintly with light.

[Threads of Fate (1/?) (Unique)]

{A weave unbroken, binding beginnings and endings into balance. Its strength lies in the convergence of all things.}

Scarlett’s eyes widened slightly as the woman extended it towards her. “This is…”

The name drew her attention. A couple of seconds passed as she simply studied the artifact in silence. It was a piece of a set she had been trying to collect for some time, so its existence wasn’t shocking. But she hadn’t considered its actual name much before.

Threads of Fate…

Did it carry some significance she had overlooked?

“Do not look so astonished,” the other Scarlett said with a dry chuckle. “Was retrieving this not one of the tasks you set before me?”

Scarlett took the rod, turning it over in her hands as she examined the craftsmanship. “I did not expect you to recover it so quickly.”

Barely two weeks had passed since their deal, and she knew how troublesome acquiring this particular item would have been. It was one of the reasons she hadn’t attempted retrieving it herself yet. Managing such a feat with the meagre strength the other Scarlett possessed—even with some of Scarlett’s own knowledge of the game—was impressive.

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The other Scarlett’s expression was laced with a hint of pride as she waved one hand dismissively. “Dealing with a coven of ignorant necromancers was not without its challenges, I will grant you that. But it is not as though you left me with many alternatives, is it? And I loathe being in anyone’s debt, as you surely understand.”

Scarlett did. She lifted her eyes from the [Threads of Fate]. “You accomplished all of this alone? Since what happened on the Rising Isle?”

“This, and securing Lithén as my retainer,” the other Scarlett replied. “It is remarkable what one can achieve with a capable and loyal subordinate. I am beginning to understand your obsession with hoarding secrets and flitting between schemes. There is a certain…addictiveness to it.”

Scarlett watched the woman carefully, trying to gauge if there were any lies hidden behind those words.

“The suspicion is hardly necessary,” the woman said, reading her expression. “Though understandable. Were I in your position, I would be wary of me as well. But is that not precisely why you gave me this?”

She extended a hand, palm up. A dagger materialised in her grasp, its leather-bound hilt flanked by two silver prongs, the blade etched with numerous markings and symbols. A violet gem pulsed faintly from the cross-guard.

[Memory of the Covenant (Unique)]

{A remnant of a covenant once formed, remembering the connections that bind}

Scarlett’s eyes dropped to the weapon. It was the same blade she had once given to Gaven Ridley and the Countess for their infiltration of the Sanctuary of Ittar. She’d had little use for it since — which made it ideal as the Auranthial’s core.

“Whose appearance did you take?” she asked.

“That of Lenore Hartford,” the other Scarlett answered. “Our great-great-aunt, in case you were unaware.”

“No, I recognise the name.”

After learning of her connection to Arlene, Scarlett had combed through the family records thoroughly just to make sure there weren’t any other buried surprises. Lenore’s lineage was distant enough that using her visage was unlikely to ever draw suspicion. Still…

She eyed her counterpart with narrowed eyes. “…At least you understand why the suspicion is warranted.”

“Certainly. Though it remains pointless.” The woman released the dagger, and it vanished into thin air. “Now that I have this physical form, I have little incentive to jeopardise it. Breaking the pact would cost me much.” Her expression tightened briefly. “Even if the process of using that artifact is…unpalatable.”

Scarlett could understand that sentiment. She’d never enjoyed the dagger’s particular mechanics, not only because it required blood to use, but also the way it concealed the user’s true appearance. Nevertheless, she had handed it over for practicality’s sake. The woman needed to move through the world without attracting attention. Safeguards had been added as well — she couldn’t assume Evelyne’s likeness, or that of anyone similarly sensitive.

The other Scarlett folded her arms, fingers tapping softly against her sleeve. “Now that I have retrieved the Threads of Fate, I presume your preparations for what lies ahead in Beld Thylelion are nearly complete.”

“That is none of your concern,” Scarlett said.

“Still so guarded. I may know you better than most—and the secrets you would prefer to bury—but I have no stake in Beld Thylelion, nor the ability to interfere.” She made a vague gesture. “It is a touch rude, is it not? Exploiting me for your less savory errands while treating me as though I remain a threat skulking in the shadows.”

Scarlett scoffed. “The day I cease to be cautious of you is the day I become a fool. As you said, you know me, and I know you.”

Even when she had first proposed their arrangement, she had taken a good amount of time planning the restrictions that would govern the other Scarlett’s actions. Loopholes, contingencies, the limits of the pact — they were considerations she’d revisited several times since. Releasing a version of herself equipped with intimate knowledge of her thoughts and the mechanics of this world was a disaster waiting to happen if kept unchecked. The pact was comprehensive, but it did not entirely suppress the other Scarlett’s autonomy or compel her absolute obedience. The woman had only agreed to so many concessions, and Scarlett knew it had been a calculated negotiation on both sides.

They were in a strange partnership of sorts where either party hoped the other would make the first mistake. Scarlett had the advantage, but the Anomalous One had little to lose since its fragment was set to disappear anyway.

Scarlett’s eyes drifted back to the obsidian rod in her hands. With this artifact, she had the complete set. She’d been unsure if she would be able to gather them all before going to Beld Thylelion, but it was nice that she had. In a way, the [Threads of Fate] represented her current relationship with the other Scarlett.

The woman had been right: Scarlett had relied on her to handle one of the dirtier jobs that would be troublesome for her to manage herself.

The last time she’d had trusted someone else with responsibilities like these, it had ended poorly. This time, however, she intended not to let history repeat itself.

She slipped the artifact into her [Pouch of Holding], keeping her tone curt. “You could have chosen a better time to visit.”

The other Scarlett’s eyes briefly moved to Evelyne, who sat stiff and silent beside her. Then she turned back. “Did I interrupt your sisterly bonding?”

Scarlett frowned. “Yet another matter that does not concern you.”

“That is a curious sentiment.” The woman shook her head. “Regardless, allow me to say this: if you are truly intent on ‘repairing’ your relationship with her”—she gestured towards Evelyne—“I advise you to abandon the notion.”

Scarlett’s expression hardened. “I am not seeking advice. Even if I were, you would be the last person I would consult.”

The original Scarlett had been ruthlessly pragmatic, in her own way, and her ethics were shaped by a stark simplicity and a fierce, almost childish pride in that fact. She hadn’t been afraid to embrace the cruel logic of power, and the woman before her—fragment or not—wore part of that ethos like a badge of honour. Scarlett couldn’t deny that she’d inherited and used some of those traits as well, but that did not mean she would blindly perpetuate them. Especially not here.

“I did not expect you to listen,” the other Scarlett said. “It is not in your nature. But know that I do not speak from spite, nor some petty desire to undermine you. The simple truth is that you would be better served ceasing these attempts to reshape what you have become.”

Scarlett’s frown deepened. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

The woman gave a small shrug. “It means exactly what I said. I have no obligation to elaborate.”

She looked to Evelyne again, letting her gaze linger before rising to her feet.

“I have done what I came for. Now, I will take my leave. With the burdens you have so generously handed me, my time for personal pursuits is regrettably limited.”

At the door, she paused and glanced back at Scarlett. “…I suppose I should offer my compliments before I depart. As inconvenient as it may be, it is rather novel — to walk the world in this manner. Though your decisions frustrate me endlessly, I cannot say I entirely resent the current outcome.”

Scarlett regarded her in turn. “…Who is speaking now?”

Was it the Anomalous One’s fragment, or ‘Scarlett Hartford’?

The corner of the woman’s lips curved upward in a cryptic smile, but she gave no reply. She opened the door, and in the dim light outside, Scarlett caught a glimpse of movement from the front of the carriage — someone stepping from the shadows to join the other Scarlett.

The figure wore pristine armour: marble-white, trimmed in gold filigree. A sculpted helmet shaped like a bird of prey concealed their face. The pauldrons bore the visage of stylised owls. They moved with an eerie, fluid precision that was almost unnervingly silent.

For a breath, their dark, hollow gaze met Scarlett’s through the helmet’s narrow slits. The sensation was jarring, as if they were both sizing her up and issuing a silent threat. The [Hartford Garnet Ring] on Scarlett’s finger flared briefly with a soft, warning glow, but the light subsided just as quickly when the figure turned to follow the other Scarlett. Without a word, the two disappeared down the darkened street.

Scarlett watched them go, eyes following their retreating forms.

Then she turned to Evelyne, who looked back at her with an expression full of uncertainty, carrying innumerable questions and concerns.

Scarlett straightened and sighed. “…I believe we were meant to have a talk?”