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Memoirs 333 - Angling around
🕑 Added 2025-02-13 22:21:56 +0000 UTCScarlett and Fynn moved through the thinning veil of trees. The air was noticeably warmer than the night before, and patches of snow had melted, revealing damp earth beneath. Still, it was no true thaw — just a brief reprieve before winter tightened its grip again.
Soon, they emerged into the familiar glade where their battle had taken place only half a day earlier. Scarlett’s gaze locked onto the remains of the three big creatures at the centre of the clearing.
When she and Fynn had finished with them, the beasts had been left scorched and beaten, but still largely recognisable. Now, all that remained were piles of bones, stripped clean of flesh.
Something had erased the rest.
Above them, pale morning light filtered through skeletal branches, casting elongated shadows across the glade. But at its heart, beside the bones, there was an unnatural pocket of darkness — one that didn’t shift with the wind or bend to the sun’s touch.
Fynn watched it closely. So did Scarlett.
As they neared, the shadow stirred, twisting and unravelling like smoke before coalescing into a small, childlike figure. A crimson hood draped over its shoulders, and beneath it, a stark white mask emerged. Wisps of pale hair framed it, while three lavender eyes adorned the smooth surface — two wide, translucent irises with small black pupils, and a third vertical eye in the centre of the forehead.
Nol’viz of the Hallowed Cabal.
The masked girl tilted her head, observing Scarlett with an inscrutable gaze before shifting her attention to Fynn. They regarded each other in silence.
“I assume you have a message for me,” Scarlett eventually said.
Nol’viz’s focus returned to her. After a pause, the girl reached into the folds of her robe and produced a reflective shard of grey metal. A [Mirror of Communion].
Fog spread across the artifact’s surface, darkening it.
“Baroness Hartford,” a sharp, dispassionate voice echoed from the mirror. “It has been some time.”
“It has,” Scarlett replied coolly. “And this is hardly the greeting I would have preferred. Last night, my home was nearly overrun by one of your monsters, and I have spent every moment since dealing with the aftermath of your little feud. It makes me wonder if you intend to break our agreement.”
The mirror was silent at first. Then the voice spoke again, directed elsewhere.
“Does she have it?”
Nol’viz’s three eyes flicked towards the grotesque, putrid heart Fynn held.
“Yes,” the girl rasped, her voice layered, as if multiple speakers whispered at once.
Another pause. Then the man’s voice returned. “We warned you that Freybrook would not be spared forever, Baroness. Like the rest of the empire, it remains subject to our wrath. The only reason it has endured this long is out of deference to you and our arrangement. That is something you would do well to be grateful for.”
“My home is not Freybrook in its entirety,” Scarlett said. “And the creatures that came to my doorstep were beyond the capabilities of an average defender."
“An unfortunate accident,” the man replied dismissively. “We do not possess absolute control over the monsters’ actions. Had it truly posed a threat to you, we might have intervened. As it stands, we have already been far too lenient on Freybrook and its people because of you.”
Scarlett’s eyes stayed on Nol’viz and the mirror, weighing his words. She had her doubts.
“Regardless of whatever concessions you claim to have made, there is no excuse for such blatant negligence and disregard for our accord,” she said, her tone turning sharp. “I expect you to be far more careful in the future.”
The Cabal had always been careful to avoid direct provocation until now. Allowing dangerous monsters so close to her estate was an ‘accident’ that she found difficult to believe. Were they testing her, perhaps? She didn’t think they would dare, unless…
“We will…take that into consideration,” the voice responded. “Naturally, however, you must not forget your end of the agreement.”
Scarlett’s expression remained impassive. “I have done nothing to violate it.”
That was a blatant lie, of course. She had done plenty to work against the Cabal in several ways, but none of it in ways they should be able to openly accuse her of. The only matter that might have drawn their attention was what happened on the Rising Isle involving the Anomalous One, but whether they even knew about that was unclear.
She was aware that the Tribe and Cabal’s first full-scale monster assault on the empire had some link to her inadvertent release of the Anomalous One’s fragment after inheriting Thainnith’s legacy. However, the extent of their communication with the entity was a mystery. She suspected it wasn’t a direct line.
Although she supposed there was also the matter of her counterpart. The other Scarlett knew more of her secrets than basically anyone else. But Scarlett had been careful to ensure the constraints binding her counterpart prevented that type of information exchange specifically.
Even if the Cabal did know, she didn’t see any grounds for them to properly accuse her. Her actions on the Isle had been a matter between her and the Anomalous One, after all. Not the Cabal.
Nol’viz cocked her head slightly, her gaze drifting from Fynn and the heart back to Scarlett. At the edge of Scarlett’s awareness, she could feel the Loci’s presence pressing outward, testing its reach, its influence straining to perceive the shape of the exchange. The nascent spirit almost seemed…curious.
“We are aware of the Empyreal Barrier,” the man in the mirror continued, drawing Scarlett’s attention. “You do not think that sheltering one of its foundational arrays within your walls is a breach of our agreement?”
Scarlett eyed the mirror.
So they did know about that. Not too surprising. It was likely that last night’s attack had been, at least in part, an effort to target the existing pylon sites across the empire — to delay the Barrier’s completion. In fact, if the attacks elsewhere were more severe, as she suspected, then perhaps the Cabal and Tribe had even deployed some of their own members to sabotage the pylons directly.
It’s what Scarlett would have done.
A faint frown creased her features.
It was also likely what the empire would have anticipated, taking their own countermeasures. Her estate might not have received any of those reinforcements yet, but what about elsewhere? Arnaud Astrey—Allyssa’s father—had mentioned urgent business that delayed him joining them. Could this have been the reason? An S-ranked Shielder in the right place could mean the difference between success and failure for a project as costly and vital as the Empyreal Barrier.
“First and foremost,” she began, “I am a noble of the Graeneal Empire. The construction of the Empyreal Barrier is a matter of imperial security — one I am both duty-bound and obligated to support. It has nothing to do with our agreement. Even were it so that it did, excluding my lands from its reach is beyond my power. You have no right to question me.”
She shook her head, schooling her expression. “Now, regarding the creatures I slew last night — do not think you can so easily absolve yourselves. Do you truly believe you can test me without consequence?”
Their original contract had explicit clauses forbidding such provocations. She had taken care to ensure that. That said, enforcing them was another matter entirely. Either the Cabal no longer saw maintaining their arrangement as a priority, or this was, indeed, a deliberate test.
Either way, she couldn’t just let it stand.
Silence stretched from the mirror — longer than Scarlett had expected. Just as she began to wonder if the man had abandoned the conversation altogether, his voice returned, though once more, it no longer seemed directed at her.
“Yes. It seems highly likely, given what we have confirmed.”
Scarlett’s frown returned. The shifting fog within the mirror distorted, as if trying to form the outline of a face.
She froze.
A probing pressure brushed against her mind.
“Fynn, leave,” she ordered at once. “Now.”
There was no hesitation. Fynn passed the [Essence of Zenthas] into her outstretched hand—its hideous form barely registering in her grip—then vanished from the glade in a rush of wind. She knew he wouldn’t go far, that he’d remain close enough to watch, but she was relieved he hadn’t argued.
In her other hand, the [Eternal Flameweaver’s Athame] materialised, its blazing tip pressing against the heart.
“…I have wanted…to meet you again…for some time,” a hoarse, grinding voice slithered through her mind, sending a disgusted shiver down her spine. “…It is a shame… You should have let the Grehaldrael stay.”
She hadn’t heard that voice in some time, but it was impossible to forget. The weight pressing against her mind burrowed deeper, prying, seeking to reach the layers beneath.
The Angler Man.
Scarlett’s glare snapped to Nol’viz, then to the mirror in the girl’s hand. “What is the meaning of this?” she bit out.
“Your mind…” the Angler Man mused, as though he hadn’t heard her. “It is stronger now…more concealed…more protected. Curious…curious… What have you been up to?”
Scarlett pushed the Flameweaver’s blade harder against the heart, heat rippling up its dark, wine-red surface. “You dare try to invade my mind again?”
She’d had her suspicions—her concerns—that the Angler Man would have awoken from his slumber by now, but she had hoped that wasn’t the case.
“Mind your tone, Baroness,” the man’s voice on the other end of the mirror returned. “You would do well to be careful with your actions.”
“No,” Scarlett countered coldly. “You should be careful — unless you wish for the Angler Man to perish here and now.”
More silence from the mirror was her response.
She had no doubt her threat had landed, but the man wasn’t the problem.
A low, rasping chuckle echoed through her mind, like the hollow scrape of bone against stone. “You think…I fear for my life…girl?”
That was what she was worried about.
Even if the rest of the Cabal valued the Angler Man’s survival, the Angler Man himself did not hold the same reservations about risking his own being.
Scarlett felt the pressure against her mind intensify, wriggling as through cracks and openings, looking for a way past whatever defences shielded her mind and sanity. She clenched her jaw, resisting the insidious touch as best she could. The sensation alone grew more repulsive by the second. More provoking.
Her grip tightened around the Flameweaver. Thin wisps of smoke curled where it touched the [Essence of Zenthas].
Another laugh, slow, almost coaxing. “…Go ahead…do it.”
A scowl darkened her brow.
The Angler Man didn’t need to read her mind to know she hesitated. Destroying the heart wasn’t even a last resort. It was her only leverage, the only thing keeping the Hallowed Cabal from turning their full force against her. Once it was gone, so was she. But if they sensed weakness—if they believed she wouldn’t touch it—it would lead to the same inevitable conclusion.
The [Eternal Flameweaver’s Athame] pulsed in her grip. A flicker of whitish-blue fire ignited along the hilt, strangely cool against her skin. The flames licked up the blade, reaching the heart — where they caught on faint, crystalline patterns embedded in the hardened bone. The fire did not consume it. Did not spread. But it lingered, as if feeding on something unseen.
The Angler Man’s laughter twisted with something resembling pain, yet it didn’t stop.
The madman.
These weren’t normal flames. They weren’t like anything else Scarlett could use. She had only recently discovered that the Flameweaver could summon them, and she still didn’t fully understand their nature. But from her short experiments, she knew one thing — they burned at mana itself.
She had no idea if they could kill the Angler Man. A part of her almost hoped they could, even though that went directly against her interests.
“The fires of Itris…” the Angler Man rasped through his ragged laughter, as if lost in reminiscence. “The embers of false divinity… Where have you been hiding this…?”
Scarlett tensed.
It was impossible to have a conversation with this man. She wasn’t even sure if he had conversations. Why would he, when he had spent centuries plundering the minds of others for everything he needed?
Her gaze shifted back to the mirror. “Vior-Da-Zof,” she addressed the man on the other end. “Neither you nor I wish for this to end in your leader’s death. If he takes this any further, that is exactly where this will lead. End this.”
The Angler Man’s probing shifted, turning more erratic, tendrils of invasiveness touching at every edge of her awareness as if trying to bait a response. “This is…familiar…? Old or new…? What are you…I wonder?”
True, dark-red flames flickered to life along the base of the Flameweaver’s blade.
“Now,” Scarlett commanded.
She didn’t know if the Angler Man could breach her mental protections, but she refused to let this continue any longer.
Still, the mirror stayed silent. The Angler Man’s assault continued along with his rumblings, and Scarlett’s breath hitched as she fought back. The new flames coiled higher up the blade, creeping towards the heart in her grasp. The moment they reached the hardened bone surface, the Angler Man’s voice turned even more unstable.
Finally, Vior spoke.
“Fine.”
The spectral face in the mirror vanished, and with it, the crushing force on her mind.
Scarlett exhaled sharply.
“…Extinguish your flames,” Vior’s voice instructed.
Scarlett narrowed her eyes. The phantom remnants of the Angler Man’s touch still curled along her nerves. Vior couldn’t see through the mirror, so how did he know her flames were still there?
For a moment, the temptation to let the [Essence of Zenthas] burn fully flared within her. To end it here and now. But she forced it down. Slowly, she withdrew the fire, leaving scorched, blackened scars across the heart. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt like she could still hear the Angler Man’s rasping laughter.
“…Do not think for a moment that I will forget this,” she said, voice dripping with venom.
The Angler Man hadn’t severed the connection himself. That meant Vior-Da-Zof—the de facto leader of the Hallowed Cabal in his absence—had taken it upon himself to do so. A bold decision. One that likely wouldn’t go without consequences.
Vior lacked the authority to truly overrule his master. He had knowingly acted against the Angler Man’s will, and Scarlett had no doubt he would suffer for it.
She couldn’t care less.
A part of her seriously considered waging all-out war against the Cabal here and now. The mere thought of someone successfully messing with her mind, even momentarily, stoked a rage that threatened to consume her. That the Angler Man had dared to attempt it so brazenly pushed her sense of self-control.
But she couldn’t let anger dictate her actions here. No matter how tempting it was. Not yet.
Some time passed in silence. Scarlett forced herself to calm down and think clearly, to take stock of what had just happened. With the Angler Man awake, they had hoped to use his abilities to catch her off guard — to dismantle the tenuous agreement between them and rid themselves of the inconvenience she posed.
When it became clear he couldn’t easily breach her defences, the madman didn’t care at all. But Vior must have realised the risk. If Scarlett had followed through with her threat, they would have lost their leader. Whatever consequences awaited him, Vior had chosen to bear them rather than gamble the Angler Man’s survival.
Scarlett’s gaze shifted to Nol’viz. The masked girl had remained perfectly still throughout it all, her three lavender eyes fixed on Scarlett, studying her with an unsettling intensity. She looked almost like a porcelain doll in that pose — unmoving, expressionless, and unknowable.
A fraction of Scarlett’s anger found itself directed at the girl, a fact that actually frustrated her.
“…Our apologies, Baroness,” Vior’s voice finally returned, pulling Scarlett’s attention back to the mirror in Nol’viz’s grip.
She regarded it with an icy stare.
“What transpired just now was a misunderstanding,” he continued.
His voice sounded strained.
Scarlett scoffed. “Spare me. I understand precisely what happened. It is clear that you have abandoned any pretence of upholding our agreement.”
“…That was not our intent,” Vior replied, though there was something hesitant about his tone.
Against her better judgement, Scarlett’s anger flared again at the blatant deception. She clenched her fist. “Then you should not have attempted to pry into my mind.”
Nol’viz’s mask tilted slightly, her quiet interest lingering. “Lethal intent,” her layered voices observed, almost contemplative. “Do we have to fight her...?”
Scarlett’s eyes widened slightly.
“…No,” Vior answered.
A beat passed before he continued, more composed. “And Baroness, I hope you can control your temper — for both our sakes. It remains in both our interests to avoid further conflict."
Scarlett let out a slow breath, steadying herself. “Your words contradict your actions. I see little reason to trust anything you have to say now.”
“You have little choice.”
Her gaze hardened.
“…I will not simply allow this to pass without repercussion,” she eventually said.
“What do you want?” Vior asked bluntly.
Scarlett considered Nol’viz and the mirror. “…I need time to decide.”
“Our attacks against Freybrook and the empire will not change.”
“I am aware. Do not assume that is what I seek.”
She fell silent, thinking. She was tempted to ask for something regarding Beld Thylelion, but that felt risky. The Hallowed Cabal might not even suspect her interest there yet, and tipping her hand now would be foolish.
Beyond that, though, there wasn’t much the Cabal could offer her directly.
“…You still have Mirrors of Communion in your possession, do you not?” Vior asked after a while.
Scarlett inclined her head slightly. “I do.”
She had taken some from the Cabal Adepts who had ambushed her all those months ago and had never seen reason to throw them away.
“You may use them to contact us when you have a request,” Vior said. “If it is within our power, I will consider granting it.”
Scarlett was mildly surprised by his concession.
“And how can I be certain the Angler Man will not be waiting on the other end?” she asked.
“The mirrors are marked. I will ensure that does not happen.”
Scarlett studied the mirror for a long moment. She hadn’t actually expected him to be so…accommodating. Some of her anger faded, if only slightly.
“…Very well,” she said at last. “Is there anything else you wish to have said?”
“There is not.”
“Then you summoned this meeting solely to confront me with the Angler Man.”
Another brief silence answered, then the mirror’s surface shifted. “I will take my leave, Baroness. I suggest you do not delay your requests for too long.”
The fog within the mirror dispersed, leaving behind only the dull grey metal.
Scarlett’s eyes lingered on it.
The one consolation, she supposed, was that Vior-Da-Zof still seemed reluctant to fully sever their arrangement, even to the point of defying the Angler Man’s immediate will. But to say their original agreement was on shaky ground was an understatement. After today, she wondered if it wasn’t better to consider it practically non-existent.
Even if Vior ensured some of her demands were met, their neutrality against each other likely couldn’t last much longer. The question was what would happen once that line was crossed. The fact still remained that both sides had the means to inflict considerable damage on the other.
…But the difference now was that Scarlett had been given time to grow stronger. The Cabal remained a direct threat to her, but for how much longer?
Hopefully, they wouldn’t realise just how little time they had left with the upper hand. Because she fully intended to make them pay — for this, and for everything that had come before.
“What will you be asking for?” Nol’viz suddenly asked.
Scarlett turned to her, slightly surprised by the question. She studied the masked girl.
There were still some unanswered questions surrounding Nol’viz as well — particularly her vague connection to the Resting Eye and the ancient dragon Ayrlazkreh, whose lair lay beneath the volcano. That connection, strangely, seemed separate from the Cabal’s machinations, and Scarlett didn’t have a good grasp of what it might signify.
She wished she had the time to investigate it further, but for now, it was far from her priority.
“…As I said, I need time to decide,” she finally replied. “I will reach out when I deem it necessary.”
Nol’viz tilted her head yet again, as if considering the answer, before giving a slow nod. “Then we will see you.”
She turned and vanished into the shadows.
Scarlett watched her go. Then, with a quiet breath, she turned and made her way toward the mansion.
Comments
Demerval Augusto da Cunha
Ty for the chap
Martin
>>>“We warned you that Freybrook would not be spared forever, Baroness. Like the rest of the empire, it remains subject to our wrath. They should be worried when the Baroness decides to make their organization a subject of her wrath. I cannot wait to see how she will save the Emperor, a feat she has not managed in any of her playing campaigns. It is necessary for advancing her noble rank, which original Scarlett plotted as her priority.
buca117
First? EDIT: First! Anyway, really looking forward to the Hallowed Cabal finally finding out how much power Scarlett has accrued to put them down. This just makes me want it to happen sooner rather than later.
