Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 327 - Pasts forgotten

Evelyne watched her sister, studying Scarlett’s expression as countless thoughts spun through her own mind. She felt as if she’d stepped into some strange, surreal world where common sense no longer applied. What unnerved her most was that she seemed to be the only one rattled by what had just happened.

Here she sat, utterly lost, her world turned upside down, while Scarlett looked as if she’d dealt with no more than a mild inconvenience. Like a carriage wheel stuck in the mud rather than...whatever this was.

“My Lady,” a tentative voice called from outside, breaking the silence. The coachman appeared by the window, clearly uneasy. “I-I’m sorry, I—”

“There is no need to apologise,” Scarlett said, her voice calm, without looking at him. “Simply return us to the estate.”

The man hesitated, then dipped his head in a small bow. “As you wish, My Lady.”

He vanished from view, and soon the creak of the carriage and shifting of horses signalled they were moving again.

Evelyne barely registered it. She wondered what had happened to the coachman earlier. When…the other Scarlett said her retainer was ‘keeping him company’, Evelyne hadn’t known what that meant. She was just relieved he seemed unharmed. At least there was that.

Scarlett’s steady gaze remained fixed on Evelyne. “Where would you like to begin?” her sister asked at last.

Evelyne met her eyes. “What just happened?” The words tumbled out, her confusion and frustration bleeding through.

She was struggling to make sense of it all — why there had been two Scarletts, what their cryptic conversation had meant, and what secrets her sister had been hiding these past months. Evelyne had thought she was okay with being kept in the dark. She had thought she could manage just…trusting Scarlett, even if that would have sounded crazy to the old her. But after what she’d just seen? How could she possibly remain silent?

“It is…complicated,” Scarlett said slowly, her tone turning uncharacteristically cautious. “I am not certain how much I can share.” She paused, a faint frown flickering across her face. Then she shook her head. “No, I cannot use that excuse again.”

Her gaze sharpened as she studied Evelyne. Really studied her. “…Are you certain you wish to understand it all?” she asked.

Evelyne opened her mouth — then stopped. Did she want to know? She didn’t think she could simply ignore it anymore, that much was clear. But was that the same as truly wanting to understand?

Her eyes dropped to her lap, to the embroidered blanket across her legs, her right hand resting limp atop it. The answer should have been obvious. She had always wanted understanding — of magic, of administration, of the workings of their estate and the empire. Knowledge had driven her. It had been a way of proving herself, of helping. But when it came to Scarlett, that drive faltered. It was as if learning the truth would open a door she couldn’t close. A door that led to a place she might be better off avoiding.

A place where she didn’t have anything to offer.

“If you prefer, we can pretend the matter never occurred,” Scarlett offered.

Evelyne looked up, gaze lingering on her sister’s face. How had Scarlett’s life become so tangled and incomprehensible?

“…No, I want to know,” she said firmly. “I need to understand who—or what—that was.”

The woman she’d seen looked and sounded just like Scarlett. In some ways, more like her sister than the one sitting here. And even though their encounter had been brief… It had dredged up memories and wounds Evelyne barely realised were still there.

Scarlett regarded her for a long moment, then lowered her head slightly. “Very well.”

She reached into the pouch beside her and drew out a small spiral-shaped trinket. With a soft touch, it began to glow, and the cabin was wrapped in a low, humming silence. The sounds of the horses and the creaking carriage faded entirely.

Evelyne looked around. “Is that… an enchantment to block eavesdropping?”

“Indeed,” Scarlett replied, placing the object beside her. “I refrained from using it earlier, as I did not wish for Lithén to misinterpret its purpose. But caution is warranted when discussing these matters.”

“Lithén?” Evelyne’s thoughts jumped to the armoured figure she’d glimpsed outside earlier. “Was that the person with…your copy?”

“It was. Lithén is an exceedingly unstable individual. Had I been forced to fight them here, the carriage—and everything nearby—would likely have been destroyed.”

A small shiver ran through Evelyne. She hadn’t felt any obvious threat from the figure, despite her experience with skilled knights. But something in her sister’s voice made her believe it.

Scarlett folded her hands neatly in her lap, her expression smoothing into a calm resolve. “But that is not the matter at hand. You wish to understand what just occurred.”

Evelyne sat straighter. “Yes.”

“Then I must be perfectly clear.” Scarlett’s voice didn’t waver. “The woman you saw was not real.”

“…What do you mean by that?” Evelyne asked.

“She is a facsimile,” Scarlett said simply. “A reflection of ‘Scarlett Hartford’, nothing more. A copy, as you put it.”

“How…does that happen?” Evelyne frowned. “She mentioned the Rising Isle.” She leaned in slightly. “What did you do there?”

“I cannot share all the details with you,” Scarlett said, lifting a hand to forestall any protest — not that Evelyne intended to argue. “Not out of unwillingness, but because of an agreement I made with the Isle’s council. Suffice it to say, I encountered an entity of immense power. One that held deep connections to me and my past. It manifested as a reflection of that past, and that is what you saw just now.”

Evelyne’s eyes drifted to the window, to the darkened streets. “What kind of…entity was it?”

“I still do not know,” Scarlett admitted. “But to give you some sense of its nature: even the gods fear it.”

Evelyne turned back to her, eyes wide. “…You’re not serious… are you?”

Scarlett said nothing.

A chill crept down Evelyne’s spine. She was completely serious. And worse — Evelyne believed her.

“…Was it a Vile?” she asked in a hush, thinking of the near-disaster that had happened at Bridgespell, when a demon incursion had threatened to overrun the empire. Another incident her sister had been tangled up in somehow.

Scarlett shook her head. “This entity is far worse than a demon. I have spoken with a Vile, and even they do not fully understand it.”

Evelyne froze, wondering if she hadn’t misheard just now. “You… You’ve spoken with a Vile?”

“I have,” Scarlett replied.

Evelyne gaped at her. “W-What…”

She couldn’t even finish the thought. Scarlett’s calm, matter-of-fact admission would be enough to condemn their entire house to ruin. Was her sister actually dealing with demons? It couldn’t be…could it? Surely that wasn’t how Scarlett knew all these—

“Do not let your thoughts spiral,” Scarlett said sharply, cutting through her panic. “If you wish to know the specifics of how I came to commune with a Vile, I…will share that with you as well. But for now, you simply need to understand that I did so as an adversary, not an ally. I am bound by no pacts, agreements, or allegiances with demonic entities that would endanger our barony or the empire.”

Evelyne let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, pressing a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart. She wanted to hear Scarlett out. No matter how much it frightened her.

Scarlett observed her for a moment. “…Shall I continue?”

Evelyne nodded, more steady now. “Yes. Please…”

“As I was saying, I do not know exactly what this entity is — not fully. No one does. Not even the gods. I have confirmed this with beings whose power may even rival divinity in some aspects.”

Once again, Evelyne’s breath caught at the casual way Scarlett spoke of something so ridiculously absurd, but she forced herself to stay quiet and listen.

“The entity itself is known as the Anomalous One,” Scarlett continued. “It is ancient and profoundly dangerous. It played a role in the collapse of the Zuverian civilisation during the Severance, and has been sealed ever since by three artifacts—the Seals of Thainnith—created by one of the divinarchs before his demise.”

Evelyne’s pulse quickened. “You’re saying that was the thing sitting here? In the carriage with us?” She wasn’t sure if her voice came off as calm or panicked. She liked to believe it was the former. “That’s…hard to believe. You realise that, right?”

“I do,” Scarlett said with a slight nod. “And no, that was not quite the Anomalous One itself. The Scarlett you just spoke with is not entirely the same. By her own admission, she is a fragment — one who is both ‘Scarlett Hartford’ and ‘Anomalous One’.” She paused, expression turning thoughtful. “…Though even I question how much of the latter remains. Her original purpose has passed, and I have constrained her to her current form and abilities. She is no longer able to fully serve the Anomalous One’s aims.”

“Wait,” Evelyne cut in. “I don’t follow. Why would this…thing even copy you in the first place? And how could you ‘constrain’ something like that? I feel like I’m missing half the story.”

A frown tugged at Scarlett’s brow, as though she found the interruption tiresome, but she didn’t snap or brush Evelyne aside. Instead, her sister let out a slow, deliberate breath. “There is far too much to explain in one sitting, but if you wish for the simplest answer as to why the Anomalous One chose me…it comes down to one truth.” Her expression hardened. “In this world, there may be no person more important than I.”

Evelyne blinked. Her thoughts stalled. That was so—

“I do not say this out of vanity or an inflated sense of self-worth,” Scarlett continued, entirely serious. “It is merely a statement of fact.” She looked Evelyne directly in the eyes. “Can you trust me when I say this?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Evelyne hesitated, studying Scarlett. What were the chances her sister had gone mad? That she’d struck some kind of terrible deal with a demon or some other malevolent force and was now delusional? Or, even worse, that she wasn’t mad but was trying to deceive her now.

It shouldn’t be true. Evelyne had seen the changes in Scarlett over the past months — changes that had made her believe her sister was different now. Better. But as she looked into Scarlett’s calm, unwavering gaze, doubt gnawed at her.

Even if she wasn’t lying… the implications of what she was saying were almost as terrifying.

“I once told you about the visions I had of the future,” Scarlett said. “About the memories. You believed me then.”

Evelyne nodded slowly. “I did…”

“Did you think I told you the whole truth? That I kept no secrets? That I never lied?”

Evelyne didn’t answer right away. Then she shook her head. “No.”

To her surprise, Scarlett’s mouth curved into the faintest smile — so brief maybe her sister didn’t even notice it herself.

“Wise,” Scarlett said. “As was your choice not to pry.” Her expression turned stony once more. “Do you recall what my counterpart said? That she is what remains of the original Scarlett Hartford?”

Evelyne’s lips pressed into a thin line. How couldn’t she? Those words had torn open a dozen old questions, stirred a storm of doubt. They left her feeling both uncertain and angry. They even made her doubt — doubt who the Scarlett sitting before her truly was.

“She represents the part of who ‘Scarlett Hartford’ used to be,” Scarlett said. “She carries the memories, emotions, and flaws of that person. In that sense, she is more ‘Scarlett’ than I am.”

“…Because you’ve forgotten things?” Evelyne asked carefully. “That doesn’t make her more you than you.”

“No.” Scarlett shook her head. “Because I do not remember anything of my past.”

Evelyne stilled. “…Nothing at all?” she finally asked.

“Not before August of last year,” Scarlett replied.

Evelyne stared at her for a moment, then looked away, eyes dropping to her lap. Her fingers traced the folds of the blanket absently, seeking something to anchor her. Her hand felt cold.

She needed a moment to process this.

“…You do not seem surprised,” Scarlett said after a pause.

“No, I am,” Evelyne murmured. “I’m not even sure I believe you. It’s just…” A humourless laugh slipped out. “It makes a bit too much sense. You’ve changed so much you barely resemble the person I grew up with, and I’ve had to explain the simplest things to you. And you told me yourself how much of yourself you simply didn’t understand. Maybe I’m the fool for not realising earlier that was literal.”

“I would not expect you to arrive at that conclusion, considering I have gone to great lengths to conceal the truth,” Scarlett replied in what might have been meant as a reassuring tone, but the woman was terrible at carrying any warmth in her voice.

At least around Evelyne.

Evelyne’s throat tightened. “Do you remember Father, at least?”

“No,” Scarlett said simply. “Not any of my personal interactions with him.”

“Mother?”

“Yours or mine?”

Evelyne gave a half-hearted shrug. “Either.”

“The answer is no to both. As I said, Evelyne, I have no recollection of anything before last August.”

“Nothing at all?” Evelyne’s voice barely rose above a whisper.

“Nothing.”

Evelyne finally looked back up at her sister again. The next words tumbled out before she could stop them. “Then why did you still act so disgusted by my existence when you couldn’t even remember who I was?”

Scarlett held her gaze. But she didn’t respond. And that silence hurt more than any words could have.

“Did I really sicken you that much?” Evelyne asked. “So much that even losing all your memories wasn’t enough to change it?”

She knew she shouldn’t let it get to her. She had expected as much. But that was the strange thing about this ‘new’ Scarlett. Even when their relationship had been strained, this version of her sister had an uncanny ability to dig up all of Evelyne’s old wounds and insecurities — laying them bare, raw, and stinging.

“Evelyne,” Scarlett began.

Evelyne raised a hand, cutting her off, turning toward the window. “No, just — forget it.” She brushed away the dampness gathering at the corner of her eye. “I’m just being stupid. I know exactly what kind of person you were. Who you still are. We’ve been through this before. It’s nothing new. So let’s just drop it. Please.”

Silence followed. Then Scarlett spoke, quiet but firm. “…Very well.”

Evelyne’s eyes drifted to the passing streetlights and the glow leaking from shuttered windows. The roads were nearly empty now, just the occasional figure in the distance — but the city still hummed softly with a subdued energy, a quiet rhythm beneath the stillness.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Evelyne sat there, trying to gather herself. The more she thought about it, the more foolish she felt. Scarlett had been trying to explain something monumental—something that most people couldn’t even fathom—and she’d derailed the conversation over something that shouldn’t have mattered. The kind of thing she thought she was over. A year ago, she would have laughed bitterly at the thought of Scarlett’s words even bothering her like this.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

She had always considered herself the more emotionally mature of the two. Now, she found herself almost envious of how composed Scarlett could be. How cold she could stay when it mattered.

“I’m sorry,” Evelyne muttered eventually, voice low.

“…What for?” Scarlett asked.

“A lot of things,” Evelyne said, turning slightly toward her. “For one, blaming you for things you can’t even remember doing.”

Scarlett raised a brow. A flicker of something—disapproval, maybe—passed across her face. “I do not see why that warrants an apology.”

Evelyne blinked. “Because it’s not fair? It’s not fair to hold you accountable for what you can’t even remember doing. Especially when it’s obvious the current you would never do those things.”

“Did I ever ask to be absolved of responsibility for my past actions?”

“What? No, but—”

“Then do not presume I want to be.” Scarlett’s voice sharpened. “I chose to carry the sins of Scarlett Hartford’s past long ago. Whether I like it or not is irrelevant. Anything less would be cowardice.”

Evelyne stared at her, then just shook her head with a soft, disbelieving laugh. “You’re insane.”

Scarlett looked like she was about to reply, brow tightening—but then stopped herself. A long pause followed. Her tone, when she finally spoke again, was carefully measured. “Returning to what I was saying… I assume by now that you have begun to form theories. Abojut what caused my memory loss. About what led to my…change.”

Evelyne bit her lower lip, then nodded. “Yes.”

The truth was, she had always wondered where the ‘visions’ or ‘memories’ Scarlett claimed to have came from. She knew they weren’t pure fabrications — Scarlett knew too much, things no one could fake. Evelyne had once liked to imagine they were the blessing of Ittar or some other benevolent god, granting Scarlett a second chance. But she had never dared to dig deeper.

Now, after everything—after talk of gods, Viles, and entities that even gods feared—she wasn’t so sure that anything divine, benevolent or otherwise, could explain this.

“I will be direct,” Scarlett said. “I do not yet know the precise nature of the force behind my condition. But I am certain it is a power far beyond the reach of beings like Ittar or the Viles. It is a power with a purpose, undoubtedly, though its ultimate aim remains beyond my understanding.”

“What do you mean?” Evelyne asked.

Scarlett considered her for a beat, then raised a hand in a subtle, deliberate gesture. “When I awoke in this world, with no memories of it or my situation, I was not entirely without guidance. I have told you of my visions, and that much is true. I have seen this world’s potential futures several times over, and it is likely that this foresight is a gift from this higher power.”

She paused. “But there is more. From time to time, I am assigned…objectives to fulfill.”

“Objectives?” Evelyne repeated, frowning.

“Yes. Tasks. Missions, if you prefer. They are often hidden directives that I can carry out and, in return, be granted power.”

Evelyne processed that in silence, then her eyes widened. “Is that how you became so strong?”

Scarlett nodded once. “In part. One could view it as a form of compensation for my…compliance.”

Evelyne narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure we’re not talking about some kind of demon here, Scarlett? What exactly are these ‘objectives’ it gives you?”

It was starting to sound disturbingly similar to the old stories of demons who tricked mortals into servitude, granting them awful powers in exchange for the souls of children and the innocent.

“If it is a demon, it is unlike any you or anyone else has ever known,” Scarlett replied. “But I find that unlikely. The objectives themselves are not inherently malicious. Often, they are as simple as exploring an abandoned ruin.”

Evelyne’s frown returned. Was Scarlett telling her she had gained all that strength by just wandering through ruins? Ruins she already knew how to find because this unseen force told her where they were? That was just…cheating.

The thought was almost juvenile in its simplicity, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

“So…” Evelyne began, hesitating as she struggled to find the right words. “Is this why you think you’re…” She motioned vaguely with her hand. “The ‘most important person’ in the world?”

Scarlett’s expression tightened somewhat. “It is part of it, yes. For reasons I do not understand, I was chosen by this power and placed in a position that is wholly unique — one that may very well involve the means to determine the fate of this world.”

Evelyne’s eyebrows rose. “The world? Are you serious?”

“Entirely,” Scarlett said without hesitation. “I have warned you before that the empire faced a dangerous future. That was not the whole truth. It is possible that everything—all the realms, all life—may soon come to an end.”

Evelyne…didn’t know how she should react to hearing that. She simply looked at her sister. There was still the slim possibility that Scarlett was lying—or delusional—and Evelyne was almost starting to hope that was the case. That would be easier.

The thought of everything ending made her earlier emotional spiral feel embarrassingly small. She knew it wasn’t reasonable to compare the two, but some small shame still sat uncomfortably in her chest.

“I suspect the intent of this force guiding me is to prevent this world’s demise,” Scarlett continued. “But I cannot say so with certainty. There are too many unknowns. And I do not believe I need to explain why I should not have been the one chosen for such a role. There are countless others who would be far better suited.”

Evelyne found herself nodding before she could stop it. She didn’t mean it cruelly — it was simply hard to imagine why Scarlett of all people had been picked for something so monumental. If this power was benevolent, or even just impartial, surely there were others more…fit.

“Do…you think it erased your memories on purpose?” she asked, watching her sister closely. “Or was that just…something that happened?”

Scarlett was silent for a moment. “I believe it was deliberate.”

“I see…” Evelyne looked down, letting the weight of it all settle in. There was too much to unpack, and she was sure she’d missed—or misunderstood—important details. She had thought today’s conversation would be about them, about their relationship as sisters, and where that would go. Instead, it had veered into territory so vast and incomprehensible that she didn’t know where to even begin.

Where could anyone reasonably begin with something like this? Any normal person would be overwhelmed, wouldn’t they?

Scarlett’s steady gaze lingered on her, and Evelyne caught a flicker of something in her sister’s expression.

“If this is too much to take in,” Scarlett said, her voice quieter than before, “we can revisit these matters in the future.”

Evelyne searched her face. Was this Scarlett trying to be considerate? It wasn’t the first time, but it always felt just as…weird.

“…It would be nice to have some time to think all of this over,” Evelyne admitted after a while. “I still have a lot of questions, but…I don’t even know where to start.”

“That is understandable.” Scarlett gave a small nod. “I will answer what I can. However…” Her expression shifted—more restrained now—as a faint grimace crossed her face. “Know that these matters are not easy for me to discuss with you, Evelyne. And there is much that I cannot, and likely never will, share — about myself or about this world.”

Evelyne studied her. “….Why?”

Scarlett met her eyes, and Evelyne could see a rare flicker of unguarded honesty in her eyes, even if it was tempered by a visible reluctance. “Because not all of it is knowledge a person should have to bear.”

They watched each other for several seconds before Scarlett finally looked away, her attention drifting toward the window. Evelyne didn’t look away. She kept watching her sister, thoughts swirling as the carriage rocked gently beneath them.

It was…unlike Scarlett to say something like that. So unlike her that Evelyne wanted to ask why she’d even bothered — why she tried to explain, to offer a glimpse into what she carried. Scarlett had made it clear before that she was content with the way things were between them. So why go further? Why try to bridge the gap? What difference did missing her memories make? It made Evelyne want to ask if…

No.

She shook her head slightly, pushing the thought away. She suspected there were things she didn’t want to ask, just like Scarlett said. Things that, deep down, Evelyne wasn’t sure she wanted to handle, even if she wanted to know.

“…Have you ever shared any of this with anyone else?” she asked instead. The words slipped out before she’d even fully considered them.

Scarlett turned back to her, a faint trace of surprise breaking through her composure.

“…There were two others who knew,” she said after a pause.

“Who?”

Scarlett’s expression grew distant. “The other me,” she said. “And…” Her gaze drifted back to the window, and Evelyne could swear she saw a hint of melancholy in her sister’s eyes. “…My teacher.”

“Your teacher?” Evelyne repeated, unable to hide her shock.

When had Scarlett ever had a teacher? Evelyne could think of a few tutors their father had employed when they were younger, but none had lasted long. And Scarlett wouldn’t remember them anyway.

“My teacher,” Scarlett replied with a nod. “Her name was Arlene Hartford.”

Evelyne blinked a few times. Did she hear that right? “Hartford? Did you say ‘Hartford’?”

“I did, yes.”

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“Are you talking about one of the Hartfords from the Rising Isle?”

Scarlett shook her head. “No. Arlene was one of our ancestors. Or, perhaps more accurately, the sister of one.”

“…What?” Evelyne stared at her, every answer only deepening her confusion.

Scarlett glanced over, then sighed. “If it has not already been made abundantly clear, my life is exceedingly complicated.”