Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 310 - What’s left behind

Scarlett sat in silence for a while, staring at the spot where Arlene had vanished, even as the edges of the Memory crept closer, devouring more and more of the porch. Only when the encroaching borders neared her did she finally shift her attention to the cluster of quest notifications hovering nearby, their glowing presence stark against the dimming world. With a sharp flick of her hand, she dismissed them, her gaze narrowing as the messages dissolved into the air.

Under normal circumstances, she might have welcomed the influx of skill points. But now, there wasn’t much joy. Rather, their appearance felt more like an eyesore — an uncaring reminder that all of this still adhered to the same rigid, game-like framework, detached and meticulously orchestrated in ways she still didn’t fully understand.

Her eyes returned to the darkness ahead, her expression hardening.

…She didn’t like it. It felt almost mocking, as if reducing Arlene’s choices and actions to mere beats in a story.

Time slipped by as Scarlett remained seated, unmoving, until the Memory’s edge loomed just a few paces from her feet. With little choice, she stood at last, turning towards the chair where Arlene had sat not too long ago. Resting on its seat was a grey, leather-bound book, its cover unmarked and its surface slightly worn.

Arlene had left it behind.

Scarlett stepped forward, picking up the book. She’d often seen Arlene reading it whenever time allowed, yet the woman had never shared what was inside, even when asked. Running her fingers along the edges of the cover, she hesitated, then cast a glance at the Memory’s boundary. She wanted to know exactly what lay within these pages, but this wasn’t the time or place.

Lowering her arm, she turned her gaze towards the house behind her — the last fragment of reality in a world rapidly dissolving. Beside the door, perched on its usual stool, was a small, red-tinted wooden casket adorned with intricate gold latticework. It had always been there, in the same place, every time she visited.

[Locked Jewellery Casket]

{A woman’s jewellery casket. There appears to be no way of opening it}

Scarlett didn’t know how many hours she had spent in Freymeadow. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, over the past several months. The lessons and experiences Arlene had shared weren’t something she could put a price on. And then there were the gifts: the [Eternal Flameweaver’s Athame (Divine)], the [Foxfire Charm (Unique)], Arlene’s aid against the Anomalous One — more than what Scarlett had originally come here for. But it had grown into something far more meaningful.

Even so, there was still something Scarlett needed.

Reaching into her [Pouch of Holding] as it appeared at her side, she pulled out an ornate key, its polished brass surface glinting with a light silver finish.

[Jewellery Casket Key]

{A key seemingly intended to open a jewellery casket}

Arlene hadn’t let her use it when she first gave it to her. Maybe she’d feared it would be the last chance to pass it on without revealing her secret.

Conscious of the Memory’s collapse behind her, Scarlett stepped up to the casket. She paused for a moment, then leaned down and inserted the key into the lock. It slid in smoothly, clicking into place. The mechanism yielded with a soft clink, and gently, she lifted the lid.

Inside lay three items. The first was a gleaming, gold-coloured sphere, its surface etched with intricate celestial patterns—suns, moons, and stars—interwoven with Zuverian glyphs. The second was a large agate, its swirling core a pale mix of green and grey, though the edges had dulled to an almost translucent haze. A faint hum emanated from within, like the final sigh of a distant memory. The third was a simple silver necklace, its sapphire pendant glinting faintly in the gloomy light.

[Sphere of Serendipity (2/2) (Unique)]

{An item far out of the ordinary, it seems to call out for its twin, awaiting a reply}

[Dimming Agate of Reflections (Unique)]

{A dwindling key to the spaces between moments, born of a pact between a wandering observer and a mage with fading purpose. Its burdens, growing heavier with each passing moment, have at last been released}

[Silver Necklace (Uncommon)]

{An unextraordinary silver necklace, once a keepsake of a mother and later a daughter}

Scarlett’s eyes settled on the necklace, staying on it for several seconds. This was what Arlene had asked her to retrieve — the item that had apparently been here all along.

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A wry laugh escaped her as she picked it up, holding it before her. This hadn’t been in the game, which likely meant Arlene had left it here specifically for her.

Scarlett wasn’t sure what to feel about that. The necklace had no real value to her, but at the very least, she didn’t want to throw it away.

With a thought, it disappeared into the storage of her [Charm of Expeditious Change]. Turning her attention to the agate, she studied its swirling core closely. In the game, this item had been responsible for the time loop here in Freymeadow, and that was it. No further explanation had ever been given for how this place was created.

Here, though, with everything Scarlett had learned about Memories and the like…

It was clear there was far more to it. This artifact may have initially created the Memory, but Arlene had clearly exercised some level of control over it. As for the ‘pact’ mentioned in its description, Scarlett didn’t need to guess who the ‘wandering observer’ was. She’d always known that.

The Gentleman.

She hadn’t sought his help in reaching Freymeadow originally for nothing, after all.

What remained unclear, however, was why The Gentleman had struck such a deal with Arlene all those years ago — and what the woman had exchanged in return. The game had never elaborated on that, and Scarlett doubted how reliable that information would have been in this case anyhow. The story of Freymeadow had already deviated from what she knew to expect, and at this point, the question was more about how deep those changes ran.

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One day, she hoped to get an answer directly from The Gentleman. Because while the system described him as an ‘observer’ here, his actions weren’t that simple. At times, the term seemed apt. But in other instances, he was anything but passive. That inconsistency made his true intentions and motivations hard to pin down.

Scarlett ran her thumb along the [Dimming Agate of Reflections], watching the fading light pulse faintly within. She regarded it for a moment longer before slipping it into her [Pouch of Holding]

She was pretty sure it would lose its ability to create a Memory once this space collapsed, but that didn’t necessarily render it useless. An artifact once imbued with such power could potentially still serve other purposes. Beyond The Gentleman, only the Anomalous One and Thainnith had wielded this kind of ability, so even residual traces of that power could prove valuable.

Scarlett’s gaze shifted to the final item in the casket. The gold-coloured sphere glimmered softly, catching the waning light. Its careful carvings seemed to shimmer briefly, as if resisting the invading darkness. She traced the Zuverian symbols across its surface. This wasn’t her first time looking at one of these, but the last time, those symbols had been meaningless to her. Now, their layered, tangled meaning was generously provided by the legacy Thainnith had left behind.

She found it funny, almost. This was the item she had originally set out to obtain — months of planning and effort, all for this sphere. And yet, now that she had it in front of her, it somehow felt like the least significant thing here.

…Perhaps the satisfaction would come later.

She picked the artifact up, its metal cool against her palm, and slipped it into her pouch without ceremony. She had originally obtained its twin from the Followers of Ittar—in another series of far-too-dramatic events—and this made a completed set. While the first [Sphere of Serendipity] technically wasn’t in her possession any longer, that hardly mattered. Having both in the same location was pointless.

Looking back, she saw only endless blackness. The Memory’s borders would soon consume what remained of this place, erasing it entirely. She couldn’t afford to linger any longer than she already had.

Casting a final glance at the book still in her hand, she stored it away. Then, reaching into the ever-present thread of the legacy’s connection, she drew upon its power. A flickering blaze of fire tore a jagged fissure into the air before her. The remnants of the Memory fought back, but they could no longer stop her.

Scarlett stepped through the tear.

She emerged onto a wide, circular platform, suspended in an expanse of dusky twilight. Heavy grey mists rolled across the sky, broken by shimmering white rifts. For a few moments, she stood still, scanning the vast, ethereal space.

Last time she’d been here, the place had felt…unsettled, as though resisting her presence. Now, that resistance was all but gone. She felt far more in control. More than that — it felt as if she owned this space.

And, in a way, she did. This space had been constructed by Thainnith, then tainted by a fragment of the Anomalous One. That fragment had since been destroyed in its attempt to create a stronger connection to the Material Realm, leaving behind residuals of its power — formless and unanchored. If it couldn’t reclaim this domain, Scarlett’s mastery was practically uncontested.

She wondered what that meant for her future.

She had already confirmed that she could use the lingering power here to navigate and interact with Memories tied to Arlene, but she wasn’t sure if she could do more than that. Could she extend its influence to the real world? The Hall of Echoes was one thing—it was directly connected to this space—but even the Anomalous One had required several loopholes to affect the Material Realm. It stood to reason that the same would apply to her. She’d had problems just in Arlene’s Memory.

“I had believed my part in this concluded, yet it seems you are determined to summon me back here, even against my will,” a cool, measured voice sounded from behind.

Scarlett turned.

Facing her was an image of herself, watching with resigned disapproval.

“Our affairs are not yet finished,” Scarlett said.

The other Scarlett held her gaze for a moment, then turned towards the distant, grey-hued horizon. “So…she is gone now, I take it?”

Scarlett remained silent for a beat, then nodded. “She is.”

“I trust you do not expect me to mourn her departure, given the chaos her meddling caused.”

“I had no such expectations.”

“Good.”

Scarlett studied the woman before her. “Tell me — regarding the remnants of the Anomalous One’s power here… Will it be possible for me to wield it, even beyond this place?”

The other Scarlett’s attention returned to her, and she arched an elegant brow. “Why ask what you already know? Thainnith’s seal operates indiscriminately. The wielder’s identity is irrelevant; so long as the power exists within the realms, it remains suppressed.”

“The Hallowed Cabal has leveraged that power to manipulate Fate, and the Tribe of Sin has their Sanctumbrums.”

“Certainly. But neither method is one you can replicate. And if it is Fate you seek to alter, you hardly need borrowed power to accomplish it. Your mere existence already does that, whether you intend it or not.”

“And if I sought to extend this ability to others? To grant them the same power I possess?” Scarlett pressed.

Her counterpart let out a light, humourless chuckle. “Then you would be courting misfortune.” She tilted her head slightly, amber eyes gleaming. “The power you draw from here is not yours to give. You siphon it from its original source, and only the structure of this Memory—combined with Thainnith’s legacy and whatever peculiarities make up you—spares you the consequences of wielding it. Attempt to share it if you wish, but I doubt you are so foolish as to bear the cost of such recklessness.”

Scarlett remained silent. Honestly, she had already assumed as much. The exact mechanisms by which the Hallowed Cabal defied Fate remained unclear, but whatever method they employed, it likely wasn’t something she had any interest in replicating. Nor did she really need to since, as the woman said, her very presence was enough to nudge those around her away from the paths Fate had laid.

Her question had been less about feasibility and more about confirming the limits of this power at her disposal. And it seemed it would be hard to use it outside of these Memories. Not that she could entirely trust the woman’s answer.

The two of them continued watching each other, and the other Scarlett folded her arms. “So? I presume that is not all you brought me here to say.”

“…No, you are right,” Scarlett replied. “Initially, my intent was to extract more information from you. To compel answers to the questions you refused to address before.”

The other Scarlett’s expression did not change, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes — amusement, perhaps.

“But such intentions were ultimately hollow,” Scarlett continued. “We both know I lack the means to force anything from you.”

Her counterpart inclined her head slightly. “You were the one to reject my proposal. What more is there to discuss?”

“Are you truly content to fade into nothingness if that is the price for your silence?” Scarlett asked.

“It is of no consequence to me.”

Scarlett regarded her carefully. “…That part of you is very unlike ‘Scarlett Hartford’.”

The woman’s expression darkened, but she offered no rebuttal.

“…Regardless,” Scarlett said after a pause, “I am not here to debate the nature of the identity we both claim, nor to press you with questions you have no intention of answering. And rest assured, I will never entertain the deal you proposed to me before.”

“No? Then what, pray tell, is your purpose with this farce? You have ensured my continued existence in this ineffectual state, as meaningless as it is. It is clear that we will remain nothing but adversaries — locked in opposition now and in the future. I might have assumed your intent was to condemn your enemy to this fractured limbo out of spite, but somehow, that seems beneath you.”

Scarlett shook her head. “No, you are correct. My reason is far simpler.”

She met the other Scarlett’s gaze squarely, unwavering.

“Adversaries we may be—now, and likely forever—but this time, I have a proposal of my own.”