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Memoirs 392 - Setting down the cards
🕑 Added 2025-09-11 21:20:15 +0000 UTCNeither of them spoke for some time.
The office breathed around them in low candlelight. Scarlett rested her hands on the desk, lacing her fingers briefly before letting them spread against the grain of the wood.
Across from her, Rosa tugged her shawl even snugger.
“You look tired,” Scarlett finally said.
The smile that came in reply was worn and crooked, bearing a trace of Rosa’s usual wryness. “Trying to wriggle your way out of it, huh? If you tell me I look like death warmed over, do we adjourn and wait for next time?”
Scarlett considered. “…We still could.”
Rosa’s smile thinned. Something quieter settled in its place. “No.” She gave a small shake of her head. “Let’s not…give it time to get slippery.”
She leaned back, gaze drifting to the ceiling. One hand slipped free of her shawl, plucking at a loose thread, twisting and releasing it. “You know, I kind of had a panic attack when I woke up in my room just now.”
Scarlett stilled. The words carried more weight than Rosa’s face showed. “I…see. How severe?”
Rosa made a helpless little flick of her fingers. “I had one of those moments where you’re trying to remember if air is optional, and your ribcage suddenly turns into a chest you forgot the key to. Not the worst I’ve had, all things considered.”
“…I should have made more arrangements for when you woke up.”
“Eh. I got over it.” She rolled the shawl’s fringe between thumb and finger. “It’s just…for a minute, I thought I was back there. With the ocean of light and all.”
“How long were you stuck there?” Scarlett asked after a while.
Rosa gave a shallow shrug. “Hard to say. Days. Weeks. You know how it is. Time’s got a sense of humour, and that was one of the occasions where I wasn’t invited in on the joke.” A small grin surfaced before fading again. “A while. Maybe…” Her eyes tracked something unseen in the boards above. “…More than a year, I think. In that place.”
Scarlett’s hand clenched slightly. A year caught there, tossed between visions and shadows of realities, without understanding what was happening. It wouldn’t have happened if she’d been faster back then.
“I am sorry,” she said.
Rosa’s mouth softened, her gaze lowering to her. “You don’t have to be. You’re the one who hauled me out by the scruff. Besides—” another faint grin surfaced “—I’d put coin down you did your own stint in that place.”
“I did,” Scarlett admitted. “But for me it was different. Much more…structured. I knew what it was and why. I had some control. It never blurred so much that I lost the wall between what was real and what was not. At most, it was a few months. I do not think I endured what you did.”
Rosa studied her, then offered a lopsided smile. “Well, as I said, I’ve been through worse.”
“And I sincerely wish you had not.”
The woman didn’t answer. She adjusted her shawl, smothered a yawn, then let her gaze wander the rows of books on the shelf to her left.
“The visions I saw…the stories,” she said after a while. “Some were so dream-drunk and impossible they barely made sense. Others so familiar I forgot they weren’t real. And sometimes it was just that light.” She paused for a few seconds. “You do know what those were, right?”
Scarlett nodded. “Yes.”
“…And this world too?” Rosa asked.
Scarlett’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Can you tell me what exactly you mean by that?”
The bard tipped her head, weighing her words. “I don’t know. It was just a feeling I got, living through those things. Imagine a cage. Big, clever, bars so wide you don’t notice them if you only look forward. Someone out there—someone with long, patient hands—keeps tipping ants in. Sometimes with faces I knew, sometimes strangers. They ran their wars, their romances, their myths. But really, they just followed the trails left by the last batch of ants. Shake the cage, the trails shift, same game, different outcome. It felt like the Memories you told me about, but more…forlorn. Abandoned and miserable. Thing is, it didn’t feel unreal. Contrived, maybe. But almost as real as this.” She turned her palm up, closing her fingers slowly as if on a lid. “So it gets you wondering. What’s the difference between those worlds I saw and what’s around me now?”
The analogy caught Scarlett off guard. “…That is an unusual perspective. But it does touch on some important aspects.” She let the silence drift for a moment. “…Rosa, what do you think of fate?”
Rosa turned to her. “Fate with a little f? The regular mortal kind you sing about in taverns and sell embroidered on handkerchiefs?”
“Yes.”
The woman breathed a small laugh under her breath. “Alright. That’s…hmm.” Her gaze slid over the floorboards, then Scarlett’s desk, lingering on the Array Forge with brief curiosity. “That’s a story in three parts, I’d say.”
“Part the first: young Rosa. You wouldn’t know, but she was bright as a berry, dumb as a berry, and happily sure everything was going to break good because she said so and the world was obviously waiting for her chorus. Fate was the kindly aunt who wove you a dress that always fit and always flattered. If a song ended sad, it was only because you hadn’t found the real last verse yet.”
A second finger rose. The mirth in her voice thinned. “After that, you do know the story. Anguish came. The nightmares came. I kept singing because that’s all I knew to do. Wrote about luck and stars and the dance of destinies. Pretended I was still that bright dumb lassie girl whose words could conjure reality. But if you scraped the paint…I thought it was all rot. Fate was the aunt who hemmed your dress shut around you and smiled while she said it looked lovely. At that point, I thought better it didn’t exist at all. So I wished it away.”
Her eyes steadied on Scarlett. A third finger lifted. “Part the third: I met you.”
Scarlett’s mouth tightened, despite herself.
Rosa saw it, and the corners of her eyes creased. “After that, my sense of fate got…messy. To be lyrical—because I know how much you love that—you knocked on the walls I thought were the world. On what I imagined was fate. And you’re not the type to wait very politely for a better hand to be dealt. You take the deck, burn the cards you don’t like, and teach the table a new game with rules you happen to have come up with on the walk over. So I had to start thinking maybe good fates weren’t entirely bull for me. Maybe, also, I didn’t need one. Maybe none of it even mattered at all. Who knows, really? Fate’s enigmatic and abstract enough by nature.”
Scarlett’s expression barely moved, but a slight frown touched her brow. “…Is that how you view it now?”
Rosa watched her, then let out a short, amused sound. She lifted the rest of her fingers in mock surrender. “Actually, I lied. Three was a neat number, but there’s a fourth part sneaking in at the end. After all, I had to reconsider some things when some of the weirdness crept in. Like Anguish accusing you of ‘defying’ Fate, capital F. You going cagey whenever the word came up. And that Gentleman fellow talking about Fate in riddles. After a while, even a stubborn bard can take a hint. If millennia-old primal demons are dropping its name and our resident villainous baroness is standing centre stage, it seems obvious we’re not talking tavern gossip anymore.”
Her chair creaked as she shifted, but her gaze stayed fixed on Scarlett. “So I’ve had time to suspect. To turn it over. To…feel it sometimes.”
Scarlett studied her — the open fatigue around the eyes, and the resolve beneath it. She considered several replies and discarded them, one by one. When she finally spoke, her voice was even. “Then you already have an inkling of why I hesitate to speak of it with you. Of what about Fate unsettles me.”
Rosa’s brows rose. “I’m a little offended you thought I wouldn’t connect a dot or three. It’s not exactly high-concept arcane theory.” She tapped two fingers together. “Line goes here, line goes there — tada.”
“It is not your ability to infer I doubt,” Scarlett said. “You simply do not have all of the information. What Fate’s existence means, in practice, for certain people.”
Rosa considered that, then gave a half-shrug. “Fair. I don’t have all the footnotes. But I’ve got the overall gist by now. After all, it’s still just fate. Or destiny. Just…maybe a bit stiffer than the tavern version.” Her tone shifted, eyes narrowing on Scarlett. “But you know the future. You’ve seen it. You’ve seen my Fate. And turns out the road was paved straight downhill for me, wasn’t it? Turns out the worst parts weren’t accidents or the occasional snake eye. That the world itself was out to get me.” She went quiet. “…And you couldn’t figure out how to tell me there was never much more for me. That I was destined to live exactly as I did. To eat shit.”
Scarlett’s lips parted, then pressed into a line. “…That is not how I would have put it. There is more to it, Rosa. More nuance. But the core of what you describe…yes.”
Rosa smiled, and it looked startlingly earnest. “Thank you.”
Scarlett paused. “For what?”
“For trying to figure out how to say it,” Rosa said. “I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: before you and the others, I didn’t have people who bothered thinking that hard about me. About how I felt. Not that such people might necessarily not have existed somewhere. But with all of this—” she gestured at herself, a faint circle that included the covered gem in her chest “—they weren’t really in the cards. But you found me anyway. Me, specifically. And shoved me into the paths of others who’d help. Defied ‘Fate’ left and right until maybe just a tiny bit of it brushed off on me. If you’d let me, I’d thank you eleven times a day for that alone.”
“Eleven?”
She waved a hand. “Don’t interrogate the number. It’s whimsical. Flair.”
“I see.”
“Anyway,” Rosa went on, “I get your hesitation at broaching that topic with me. I figure there are two kinds of people. The first hears ‘maybe everything was pre-decided’ and shrugs because abstraction is boring and breakfast still tastes like breakfast. The second hears it and has a quiet little breakdown because then what was the point of all that pain and screaming?” Her eyes glinted. “Which one do you think I am?”
Scarlett regarded her for several seconds. “Given your earlier testimony, I would have assumed the latter. But are you trying to say you are the former?”
Rosa’s smile widened. “Nope. Panicked about that as well,” she said simply. “Thrice, five times, who’s counting. Lost sleep, lost more sleep, and did a few laps around ‘if it’s all written, what am I even for?’ back when these possibilities first started creeping in. Even before I knew knew.” She tapped her temple. “It got in here.”
Scarlett’s eyes widened. “I never noticed.”
The admission felt strange on her tongue. She thought she’d gotten better at reading Rosa.
“Sorry to bruise your ego.” Rosa chuckled. “Turns out I’m still decent at hiding some things.”
Scarlett drew breath. “Then—”
Rosa lifted a hand, cutting her off. “Ah, and before you scold me for breaking that half-promise I once gave you about being more open with these things, I’d like to cash in every chit I’ve saved by not nagging you over all those secrets you keep. That has to be fair, right?”
Scarlett’s mouth closed. She watched her. “I did not plan to chastise you.”
Rosa blinked, then lowered her hand. “Oh. Well, in that case, can I take back cashing them in?”
“…If you like.”
That drew a light laugh, though it soon softened into something quieter again.
“If you’re beating yourself up over what I said, don’t. It’s fine. That’s as much on me as on you. And that’s not the point. The point is I’ve had the argument about Fate with myself already. I’ve come to terms with it. I’m right as rain — about that, at least.” A corner of Rosa’s mouth quirked. “Whatever other world-shattering secrets you’re hoarding? Can’t promise I’ll take those quite as gracefully. But I’ll certainly try.”
Silence settled again. Scarlett found herself simply observing Rosa’s shawl, counting the steady rise and fall of her breath.
“Oh,” the woman added after a beat, like an afterthought. “If you’re curious, Fynn’s the first type.”
Scarlett’s brow furrowed into a frown. “You spoke with him about this?”
“I did.” Rosa nodded. “Didn’t seem to think much of anything. Not even sure he bothered thinking about it. That boy doesn’t care at all.” She tilted her head. “I did ask him not to mention it to the others, so they might not know as much. Or maybe they do. I don’t know.”
“They know some,” Scarlett said. “I spoke with them briefly after we killed Fate. We agreed to discuss it in greater detail in the morning.”
Rosa winced theatrically. “Oh. Whoops. Sorry if I spoiled your surprise.” Then she paused, frowning slightly. “Actually, mind backtracking just a bit there? I could’ve sworn you said ‘Killed Fate’.”
Scarlett lowered her head. “I did.”
“Was that a…slip of the tongue?”
“It was not.”
Rosa gave her a long look. “…Okay. So you weren’t kidding when you said a lot’s happened.”
“No.”
They regarded each other for a while, neither continuing. Eventually, Rosa released a sigh and raked a hand through her curled locks. “So…how do you want to do this?”
Scarlett arched a brow.
“Scarlett, I know you,” the bard said. “You asked me what I thought of fate because you were stalling. Trying to figure out how to line up the story. Priming me for my own question about the world. If you didn’t want to tell me, you’d have shut this down already, like you always do. But you haven’t. Instead, you’re hesitating. Juggling with yourself. Weighing ‘which part should I tell her, which parts can I reasonably hide’.”
“That is not—”
“Look me in the eye and tell me that’s not the case.”
Scarlett met her gaze, violet irises steady. Then she closed her eyes, exhaling. “…No. You are correct.”
“When am I not? It’s one of my many, many charms. Makes you wonder why the world thought it fitting to saddle me with such a cursed fate when I’m so darned likeable.” Rosa went quiet for a few seconds. “…But it’s fine. I get it, Scarlett. I get you have a hard time talking about some things. Have a hard time trusting. I understand. I always have. I don’t mind.”
Scarlett inhaled, opened her eyes again, and looked at Rosa.
“No,” she said in a low voice. “You do.”
This time, she could tell Rosa’s words were a lie. Because there was the smallest wet glimmer at the corner of her eyes.
The sight shocked her. She couldn’t recall a single time Rosa had looked this hurt in front of her.
Rosa lifted a hand to her eye. “…Crap. That’s embarrassing, after all that talk. I’m still a bit hot-blooded after waking up. Don’t mind this.”
“Rosa,” Scarlett said quietly.
“Just—hold on a second.” Rosa held one hand in front of her, using the other to wipe her eyes, then cleared her throat and sat a little straighter. “So. You were saying I was correct?”
Scarlett kept watching her, then let her gaze drop to her own hands on the desk, fingers brushing against the Hartford family’s ring. She didn’t know why her attention was drawn there in particular. “…I am aware I have been unfair to you. To the others. There are indeed still things I am considering holding back, even though I have complete faith in you.”
“Is it really that hard to just…say it?” Rosa asked. “All of it?”
“It is.”
“Then…why did you do that with Arlene?”
Scarlett’s head snapped up. She stared at her. “…How did you—?”
“She never told me,” Rosa said. “But I could tell that things changed between you after a certain point. It was one of the reasons I thought maybe she hadn’t been forgetting after all. And I’m not judging you. If anyone, she’d be the perfect candidate for a confidante.”
Scarlett studied her, words rising and falling before they reached her lips.
“Scarlett.” Rosa’s voice turned more careful, and for a moment, the woman seemed incredibly uncertain of herself. “For maybe the second time since we met, can I be a bit too greedy and ask that you actually tell me all of it?”
Comments
Jabes McJabesface
I think these are definitely the most polarizing points; Rosa as a character who is the most polarizing character it seems. I really enjoy her and was not bothered by her poor choices because I already recognized she was terribly traumatized And effectively making a suicide attempt yet again, not the first time she has done so. That does not remove that she did make those poor choices and act irrational, so want to be clear I am not saying you're wrong to dislike, just trying to present the flipside on that. (I very much am a fan of the character and of their dynamic, but you certainly are not alone in really dislike)
Justin Archibald
I absolutely hate the Rosa chapters. They feel so forced.
DesertOfGlass
The epub downloads chapter 371
Riaren
“So…how do you want to do this?” jolted my brain with an image of Matt Mercer overlapping with Rosa's.
Laylo
Now that I about Rosa's mental state; I worry about Fynn's.
Idiot Pigeon
If there is Time and Fate already maybe the Other is a concept too, maybe Destiny?
Cellinia
Theyre so into eachother I hope everything goes well with the talk 🥺
Shatteredneon
Tyfc
Sebgatot
Intense chapter, loved it. I missed the talks between Scarlett and Rosa, feels like forever since the last one.
TWA32237 .
If the next chapter isn't the "come clean" talk, then there's no hope of it ever happening. The suspense will be the end of me.
Lyna
I hope she does.
