Chapter 2 - Scarlet (Patreon)

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Scarlet Embers

Before me was a door. For most people, it wouldn’t have been an obstacle. But in my tiny five-year-old body, it was my ticket to a potentially life-changing experience.

I sighed. “Those two will go ballistic if I get caught.” I paused. “Not that I care. Fine. Let’s do this.” I slapped my face. “Stop being a baby.”

Everything up until now had led to this moment. The boredom. The relearning of basic human movements. All of it, just to get out of that room someday.

The first year of my life was disorienting and, thankfully, fragmented to the point that I felt like I was edging constantly in and out of a coma. I remembered either sitting in a crib all day or being handed off to another adult as they walked around our… castle. I lived in a damned castle. And that didn’t even account for the embarrassment and degradation of being breastfed or changed.

“It’s still hard to look that woman in the eyes,” I said, shuddering as those awkward memories flooded me. “I felt like a pervert.”

After about 11 months in this world, my consciousness began to last longer and more consistently. I began walking with more stability. Eventually, my throat caught up to my brain, and I started talking. Thankfully, the world spoke English. Or my brain had been changed to speak and read their language automatically, and I just thought it was English. Regardless, I could read, speak, and write whatever language I was using, and that was all that mattered.

Still, it wasn’t until around my third year that my days became consistent. From the time I woke until I fell asleep, I remained fully in control of my faculties and consciousness.

Around then, I finally started being alive in a way that mattered. Life went from being a confusing dream that made me constantly wonder if I was still dying, to something suddenly still, stagnant, long, and very much real.

And I’d basically been a glorified stuffed animal ever since.

If I had to guess, my memories and knowledge were too much for my current childish body. It was analogous to putting a sports-car engine into an old buggy or downloading high-level software onto an ancient computer. It couldn’t handle my presence. A normal child might have started walking, talking, and growing more naturally without such a burden, I suspected. It stunted my growth, and I remembered hearing snippets of worried conversations from my parents, but I’d since made up for those lackluster years with my, well, astonishing rate of development.

My existence wasn’t normal. That much was clear. But I also couldn’t confirm much of anything, since I’d been relegated from caregiver to caregiver with no ability to make decisions on my own.

“If the people who birthed me weren’t so overprotective, this would be easier,” I muttered. “They’re loving. Too loving. It makes me uncomfortable.”

With their “love” came restrictions. I was either with my biological mother, father, or personal maid, Sonya, a girl of only sixteen, 24/7. Sonya was new and fresh-faced, yet she always sang to me and told me stories of her extremely tragic love life.

Granted, I was fine with it for a few months. It gave me time to think. What had I done right in my past life? What had I done wrong? What were my regrets? What do I need to do to find a purpose with this gracious gift I’d been given?

I still didn’t know the answer to that last question, but the others came easily.

“Knowledge comes first. I don’t even know where the hell I am. All I’ve got are some weird bits and pieces of stuff,” I told myself. “Can’t do anything if I don’t know anything. Everything else comes later when I have some answers.” I refocused on my bedroom door. “All I need to do is open this damn door.”

Walking forward, I hopped slightly as my little hands struggled for the door handle.

It was just out of reach. I missed it once, twice, three times. Each attempt drew me closer to success.

“And… jump!”

Finally, I grabbed the knob.

Success.

Using my weight, I pulled and turned. The door opened. I let go and slipped past as it swung by me. Carefully, I stood in the threshold, peeking out into the hallway with a nervous glance.

“No one’s around,” I said softly to myself. “This is it. Library, here I come.”

My short legs tiptoed into the hallway. The hem of my, ugh, dress lightly scraped the ground as I duck-walked quietly through the corridor.

Fortunately, though it was admittedly a boring result, I reached the library without issue.

Completing the same acrobatics needed to get out of my room, I opened one of the library’s massive double doors until it finally gave way to my efforts.

I stepped inside and marveled at the interior.

A massive window took up almost the entire back wall. The room was filled with dark and light browns. Different shades of wood colored the space. Two floors lined with books and ladders segmented the room. In the middle was an assortment of desks where people could read or study, though they were empty that day. Elsewhere were chairs and little nooks for more casual reading on both the upper and lower floors.

“No guards, staff, cadets, or politicians. Weird. Not that I’m complaining,” I confirmed out loud. My little developing hands clapped together. “Finally. A small step forward.”

The first thing I did was run toward the giant window at the back to see the city below.

Water’s Bastion. Home. The city sat on a patch of land branching off the coastline of a massive lake. Castle Grey sat on its own small island in the middle of the city, with its own trees and land, enough to set it apart without feeling like we were directly in the city. A stream of lake water cut Water’s Bastion in half, splitting again in the middle to create the landmass where our castle had been built. From my spot, I could see the entire city. Hundreds of homes stretched into the distance, all brightly illuminated by the morning sun.

It looked like Venice. Interconnected streams darted through the island as European-style homes speckled the landmass. Large boats floated around the outskirts of the city while smaller ones brought goods and people along the watery highways.

“Beautiful,” I said with excitement. “I want to go down there.”

Unfortunately, that would have to wait for another day. But there were other things I could do that were, hmmm, just not as exciting, yet enough to quench the boredom of my daily life.

Turning my back to the window, I placed my hands on my hips. A determined grin spread across my face as I began my journey through the shelves of books gathered around the room. I got lost in the genres and became curious about the many titles, but my focus was on three things in particular: history, religion, and magic.

“Focus, Felix. Gah. Scarlet.” I bit my tongue as a harsh reminder. “Scarlet. Focus, Scarlet. Can’t keep making that mistake. You are Scarlet. Remember that. No mistakes. We do not want people asking questions.”

But that little mistake brought out the worst in me. Again.

My head suddenly thumped against one of the bookshelves. Hard. Enough to put a red mark on my forehead.

“Why am I a girl?” I whined. I thumped my head again a few times in rhythmic succession. “What happened to my soul in that stupid cage? And what even was that bullshit?!”

It was a line of questioning I’d gone through again and again, several times. There was seemingly no answer, but it didn’t keep me from complaining, which I had every right to do.

“Maybe I’ll find the answers in one of these books.” I lifted my head and stepped back. My eyes scanned the room. “Let’s do this.”

Slowly, I began piling potentially important books onto an empty table in the middle of the room.

“Is there no librarian?” I remarked as I brought two additional books to the three stacks I’d slowly built over thirty minutes. “Who usually manages this place? It’d be annoying for someone to walk in on me, but I guess it’s too late to worry about that.”

Sitting in a comfortable wood-and-leather chair, I slid forward and cracked open the first book. With a sigh, I forced myself to begin with history and religion before moving on to magic.

“Discipline is key,” I muttered as I read.

•

“Scarlet,” said a voice. I felt a hand lightly pat my hair. “Wake up.”

“Hmmm?” I lifted my head. Drool stuck to the corner of my mouth. A page from the book I’d been using as a pillow came up with my face.

“Are you… reading?” asked my biological father, Baron Johnathan Embers. He crouched beside me.

His beard had grown in a lot since I was born. It was much darker and more flushed. He seemed like he was verging on forty when I knew he was barely entering his thirties. He had strong, firm features and scars on his hands and face. He’d been to war before, and they were the scars left behind. 

Batting the stuck page away from the corner of my lip, I glanced around the library with blurry eyes. Behind my birth parent stood three guards and two maids, one of them being Sonya.

Sonya was sixteen when she started working for us, and now she was twenty-one. She finally looked like an adult, which was good. It was weird being taken care of by a child for so long. I’d seen the worst and best of her, from her crushes to her naivety. It felt more like we’d grown up together than that she’d taken care of me, but I’d grown fond of her, in my own way. She seemed like a good person.

“Yes.” I rubbed the corners of my eyes and yawned, completely unperturbed. “I wanted to know things.”

“And you understood what you were reading?”

“Yes, daddy,” I replied in a soft, raspy voice, desperately not trying to gag at the word ‘daddy’ slipping past my lips. Blinking rapidly, I stared at his concerned face. “What’s wrong?”

My father, the guards with him, and the maids tagging along—Sonya included—stared at me without speaking for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Baron Embers pointed at the book I’d been sleeping on. “Read this line,” he commanded as his finger glided beneath a sentence on the open page. Disbelief was written all over his face.

“Hmmm… okay.” I cleared my throat. “Marx, God of Commerce.”

“Keep going.”

“Marx was a human merchant who served as a trader between humanity and the Gods. His vast influence shaped Zalevet into a country thriving in business and prosperity. He earned deification upon his death and became a symbol for Zalevet, as he remains to this day.”

I looked up.

Everyone stared at me with genuine surprise.

Heh. Good.

Well, I wouldn’t have thought so a few hours earlier, but my research had provided me with a loophole to gain autonomy much sooner.

Baron Embers glanced at my table full of books. He peered at the titles, moved them around, and paused. “Did you read all of these?”

“All that I could,” I replied.

“And you remember them?”

“K-Kind of?” I faked. “I-Is that okay?”

“Is she…?” whispered a guard.

“Maybe,” muttered another.

The baron eyed them, silencing them. “What is the name of this continent?” he asked after a moment.

“Derora.”

“Our country.”

“Z-Zalevet. Specializing in trade,” I said, making my voice meek and uncertain.

“And to the north?”

“Zalevet is the southernmost country… above us is Brosnock. They produce a lot of the food for the continent.”

“Northeast of them?”

“Viorna. Known for mining and fuel. Cold, with mountains.”

“West of Viorna?”

“Agias. Similar to Viorna, but they have natural volcanoes that make the area warm. They’re craftsmen specializing in dyes, clothing, and smithing.”

“What of Trinity Mountain?”

I held back a smirk, since that was the second-most helpful piece of information I had found. I also found it interesting how his tone had changed during this conversation. He used to talk to me like a baby, but in that moment, he was speaking to me like I was a regular human being.

I needed to keep pushing.

“It is a… religious autonomous zone?” I replied, implying that those words meant nothing to me even though I’d read them. “They sit at the borders of Brosnock, Viorna, and Agias and share the land with all three countries.”

Baron Embers nodded. “That is correct.” I could see him becoming more excited. “Anything else?”

“Uh, they… they regulate the Divine Treats for the Gods. Otherwise, unworthy people will have access to magic… uh, to gifts.”

“That is correct!”

“Yes, Lady Scarlet!” Sonya exclaimed as she clapped her hands. A cheery smile overtook her.

I held back a grin.

The baron eyed Sonya, but his gaze returned to me. “Who taught you to read?”

“Taught me? Can’t everyone?” I said, letting fake concern fill my face. “Sonya reads me stories all the time. The letters make sense once you see them enough.”

Come on. Take the bait.

Do it.

The room grew quiet. Too quiet. I could feel myself tensing as everyone stared at me.

Shit, did I take it too far? What will happen to me if—

“Scarlet.” Baron Embers placed his hand on my head. “You are blessed.”

Oh, thank you, God!

“Yes! She’s a Chosen Child!” Sonya shrieked happily. She grabbed the other maid beside her and shook her with excitement.

Finally, someone said it out loud! Hahaha! There’s no going back, morons!

I’d searched religious texts for anything on reincarnation. That had been both annoying and fruitful, mainly because it meant I was an extraordinary outlier. Nothing came up. Either I’d been brought into this world by accident or for some unknown reason, but either way, it meant I was special.

While what I actually wanted to find didn’t exist in the texts I read, a few juicy tidbits did stand out. One in particular was the concept of the Chosen Children of the Gods.

Based on the examples I read, these children were merely child prodigies granted a religious title because of their abnormal nature. Rather than thinking a child had simply been born unique—or, at the other extreme, assuming they were possessed—people treated Chosen Children as if the Gods had personally blessed them. They were generally pushed forward as guides of prosperity in whatever era they were born into.

With my memories and knowledge, I figured it might be easy to fake prodigy-level intellect, given the perks. And so I did, and it apparently succeeded. I’d need to be taken to a priest to confirm it, but if my birth parents believed it, then the hard part was over. If this minimal demonstration was enough to convince a political noble like the baron and get his staff talking, I would earn the status easily.

Everyone would soon come to believe I was a Chosen Child.

People would always see me as blessed, and I’d have more rights, greater significance, and more respect just by existing. On top of being born into a noble family, I’d successfully shifted my childhood onto a path better suited to my wide-ranging needs. And my odds of getting powers via a Divine Treat were all but certain if I played my cards right.

If I could be confirmed as a Chosen Child, I’d get to live out my childhood in wealth with the best tutors, food, and instructors imaginable. I mean, I was already on that course, but I’d be beyond that. Better than everyone. A beacon of pure excellence for the world to gawk at.

A far cry from the sad, forgotten public defender trying desperately to matter in a world that would walk over his dying corpse toward the future without a second thought.

“Chosen… Child?” I feigned confusion. “Am I that?”

“It’s too early to say for sure.” Baron Embers knelt and ruffled my hair. His usual tone, dumbed-down and childish when he used to speak to me, was more adult now, as if he were talking to a teenager. “If you are, it means you were born to do amazing things.”

“Does that mean I can come back here and read more?” I asked softly. Playing on my innocent form, I let my head dip nervously toward my chest. “I-I know I’m not supposed to leave my room without Sonya, but I’ve always wanted to come here. It’s so pretty. I-I want to know… everything. Anything.”

“It must be the Gods’ doing,” whispered one of the guards. “She’s got an insatiable appetite for knowledge.”

“Worse burdens there are,” another guard said, nodding.

“Quiet,” hissed the third.

I could see Sonya holding back tears out of the corner of my eye. She clearly wanted to leap across the room, hold me to her chest, and pet my head while calling me a good girl. She’d already be doing that if it weren’t for my father.

“You may,” allowed the baron. “Sonya will bring you to any part of this castle you desire.”

“I can?” Sonya asked.

“You can.”

“O-Okay!”

“Scarlet.” Baron Embers held out his hand to me. “Let’s see your mother for a moment and tell her the news.”

Awkwardly, I grabbed his hand. The moment I did, I was dragged out of the library, followed closely by an entourage of gossiping maids and guards.

•

I read, “The economic principles of supply and demand can be altered by government policies such as implementing taxes, regulations, and subsidies on products or product classes.”

“Do you understand what that means?” asked my birth mother, Baroness Embers. She held me in her lap while the book she’d chosen sat in mine.

“Um… demand is people wanting things like… books,” I read as childishly as possible. “And supply would be… how many books there are? But if th-the government… yes, if the government were to interfere, they could increase how many books there are or change the prices?”

The baroness stared at me. “She really is one of the chosen.”

Sitting beside us on the sofa in their room, Baron Embers pulled the book from my lap and placed it on the table in front of us. Smiling, he ruffled my hair. “She’ll live a blessed life.”

Sniffling sounded over my shoulder, alerting me to the fact that my mother was crying.

Uh oh. Why?

Suddenly, I was drawn into a deep, emotional hug against my will.

Annnnd I’m uncomfortable.

“Robella…” whispered the baron.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I could feel dampness on my back. “It’s just—”

“I know.”

Soon, I was being hugged from both sides.

My neck stiffened as I suffered through my intensifying discomfort.

“I’m so happy!” cried the baroness. “W-We’ve lost so many, and now that we’ve finally been blessed with a child, she’s one of the chosen. It’s… I feel blessed as a mom.”

Baron Embers hugged me tighter from his side. The gesture felt protective.

My awkwardness receded as the implications hit me.

I had other siblings at some point. They just didn’t make it. That explained why the two of them were so protective. Why they were so suffocatingly loving.

Ugh, I feel like an asshole.

Peeking up, I watched my mother sob softly into my father’s shoulder. I couldn’t see her face, but I could see the baron’s. He was holding back tears of his own. I could tell from his clenched jaw and glossy eyes.

It hurt to see.

My gaze dropped as a strong feeling of guilt hit me.

I was an intruder in their child’s body. Or I was their child, but with someone else’s memories slapped inside my head.

Either way, I wasn’t really their kid.

They loved me. I could feel it and see it. If they knew my origins, they wouldn’t. I knew that. We’d become strangers in seconds, if not enemies. 

I could barely remember my parents in my past life. They’d entered the country illegally and self-deported, leaving me behind to have a better life than they could ever hope to provide. I was never able to find or contact them, no matter how hard I tried. It left a scar in my heart that would never easily heal. 

I’d never see the baron and his wife as family or as my parents. I didn’t have it in my heart to love them the way a child would. I couldn’t. It’d hurt me too much.

But I didn’t want to hurt them either.

“Did my reading make you sad?” I asked the baroness in the most childlike voice I could muster.

“No, dear. It did not.” Baron Embers patted my head, answering for her. “We’re proud of you.”

“Very proud,” the baroness said through tears.

“Why?” I was genuinely curious whether they’d tell me. I doubted it, but—

“Because you were meant for great things,” said the baron. “The whole world will know your name. Great people will come to you. Princes will want to marry you.” He hugged me. “You’ve secured yourself and our family for generations to come.”

Excuse me? Can you repeat all that?

I stared ahead, bewildered, as certain calculations I hadn’t made before suddenly entered my head.

“Princes?” I squeaked.

“You’ll marry someone of great importance and produce an exceptional lineage that will be known for generations,” he replied. “I imagine the King himself will send a representative to your confirmation. He has three sons.”

I stared, bewildered.

“It’s too soon for this kind of talk,” said the baronnes. “Later. Someday. Let her be a kid.”

“You’re right, of course.” The baron nodded. He smiled and ruffled my hair again. “We’re so proud of you.”

I stared forward with a blank expression as regret coursed through me and the realities of this world, especially for a nobleman’s daughter, finally settled into my mind.

“Shit,” I said out loud.

Both my parents froze, mortified.

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