Never Look Back, Scarlett

Note: For a little more context on Scarlett, read this short story if you haven’t already.

Scarlett looked at the big blue tent that, while not as big as the huts in the Prophecy City, was still impressive. It sat on a wooden platform to help keep it even on the rough terrain and was a about two miles from the town. She looked at her watch and smiled. 8 AM. Perfect.

She adjusted her big red tote bag on her left shoulder and strode into the big blue tent. Inside, Reva, the old wise woman of the town, sat on an upturned wicker basket as she knitted a blue shawl. She had skin as dark as mahogany, eyes the color of chestnuts, and long curly dark red hair in twists that reminded her of the red clay she used to play with outside in her old home when she was still a naïve little girl.

Along the edge of the tent was a mat where Reeva slept, and at the back of the tent was a wooden chest for her belongings.

Reeva looked up at Scarlett and smiled. “You’re here early.”

“Better early than late.” Scarlett sat down across from Reva cross legged and lay her staff beside her. “Besides, I figured if I got a head start on my little knitting project, I could start my next assignment.”

“And your next assignment is…?”

Scarlett shrugged as she pulled out her unfinished scarf, along with her red yarn and wooden knitting needles from her bag. “Don’t know yet. But I will. Soon.”

Reeva nodded. “I see.” She started purling on the next row.

Scarlett got to work on her scarf. She was working on a new pattern called the broken rib stitch. It would be quite poetic to wear a scarf with that pattern as she took care of a few imbeciles who cheated on their spouses or murdered innocents.

Once she was finished up with this scarf, she would wear it and go right back to business.

“How have you been?” Reeva asked.

“Better than usual, if you can believe that.” Scarlet started knitting. “I was able to convince one lady to file for divorce against her cheating husband, finally! Then, I went on to the City of Beth to check on another family with a husband who claims to have made amends with his wife and kids after going out with another woman. He seemed repentant, but you never know. I advised the woman to divorce him too, but the guy insisted that he only met the woman once and I quote ‘nothing happened.’” She rolled her eyes. “But we all know how that goes.”

Reeva nodded.

“The lady believes him, poor thing, so I have to sit back and wait for the fallout. And when the fallout does happen, well…” She glanced at her staff. “I’ll be there to tie up loose ends.”

“Well, I hope the husband is really repentant, for the wife and children’s sake.”

Scarlett started on a new row and scoffed. “One can hope, but that rarely leads to joy. It usually leads to disappointment.”

Reeva stopped knitting and gave her a look. “How many have you killed this month?”

“I’ve lost count.”

“But it hasn’t even been two weeks.”

“I know. But it’s hard to keep track of all the idiots, and all the days, months, and years seem to run together. I can’t even remember when I started this gig.” As Scarlett started another row, she could feel Reeva’s eyes on her.

“I remember,” Reeva said. “It was three years ago. You were eighteen then. You had come to this town and asked for a place to stay, offered to work for the bakery.”

Scarlett fiddled around with her twig. “Right. I’d forgotten about that job.”

“You said you needed escape from something. That’s what you told me one time. You had to get space to think.”

Scarlett purled when she should’ve knitted and started over. “Yeah.”

“Then some time after that, perhaps two weeks later, you became the pupil of the mages in town. After five months, you went on to help people in other regions. One day you came back and told me, quite matter of fact, that you’d killed twenty-five adulterers and ten murderers last month in another city. Within a week.”

“Uh huh. Right.”

“I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but the only thing I could think about was what you told me about your family before you became a mage.”

Scarlett knitted when she should’ve purled and purled when she should’ve knitted a few more times. She groaned and began to do them over. “Yeah, my dad was lousy. Anyways, as soon as I’m done with this scarf, I’m going to go to Bubbling Brook Town. I got a feeling that one guy is being unfaithful to his wife, and is even spending his money on harlots instead of his kids. That doesn’t leave his kids with much of an inheritance, or much money for them to spend on food. I don’t know. I’ll see.”

Rreva was quiet for a moment. “Can I share something with you?”

“Go ahead.”

“I noticed that whenever I try to discuss your negative experiences, you disregard them by making jokes.”

Scarlett gasped. “Me? Make jokes about my past trauma? What do you take me for, a heartless maniac?”

Reeva sighed. “And when you’re not telling jokes, you’re changing the subject back to your duties as a Mage, like helping kids get out of bad homes, or killing people. Lots of people.”

“Evil people, Reeva. People who no one else—”

“Who no one else has the nerve to kill themselves. I know. And I’m not saying you’re doing a disservice to your community. I think you’ve helped plenty of people. But there’s one person you have to help.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened and she dropped her knitting project. “What? Where? Who?!”

Reeva looked in the eyes. “You.”

Scarlett blinked. She smiled. “You had me worried for a minute. I thought I had to go kill someone else. So what? You think I’ve neglected myself in some way?”

“Yes. I don’t think you’ve given yourself time to grieve.”

“Grieve what? The death of my dad? He was a jerk! Why would I shed one tear for him?”

“I’m not talking about grieving over him. I’m talking about grieving over the childhood you lost because of him.”

Scarlett stared at her. There had been moments where she wished things had been different. She wished she had never had to raise that sword and put it to her dad’s throat when she was only ten. She wished that her mom had walked away from that marriage sooner so that she wouldn’t have had to do that in the first place. But the thing she wished for most of all was that she wasn’t such a naïve child who thought that even though her parents fought a lot and her dad was a maniac, everything would work out in the end because God would magically heal their family dynamic and make everything all better.

She used to think she was over everything now that she had distanced herself from her home and her mom. But maybe Reva had a point. Maybe she was still grieving, but was trying to keep it buried, hidden, so she wouldn’t have to deal with it. But even if that was true, why should she deal with it? Why should she try to unpack the pain she worked so hard to numb? She was still alive wasn’t she?

And what gave Reeva the right to pry anyway? She didn’t asked her for therapy. She was trying to live her life. She didn’t need to be reminded of her past.

She stuffed her knitting into her bag and glanced at her watch. “Well, look at the time, I really should be going. Evil people never rest, so I’m going to make them rest. Eternally.” She grabbed her staff and got up. “A pleasure spending time with you, as always.” Almost always, she thought.

“Azalea, wait, I didn’t mean—.”

“Please, don’t call me that. Don’t call me that ever again. Good day.” With that, Scarlett hurried out of the tent unto the warm sunlight. She took a deep breath. “Grieving my childhood. Ugh. As if I have time for that.” She glanced at her watch again. If she hurried, she could make it to Bubbling Brook Town and see what she could do about that adulterous husband there.

She walked a few paces back down the road towards Prophecy City and glanced back at the blue tent. Maybe I shouldn’t have left like that. She shook her head and kept walking. No. Not going back. Never go back. You’ve got another appointment. Keep moving forward. She tapped her staff and a portal opened up before her showing a big sign saying “Welcome to Bubbling Brook Town” by a small bridge over a clear blue stream. Never look back, Scarlett. Moving forward is the only way to survive.