After Scarlet had sorted everything she believed necessary before her return to Japan, a distant oracle whispered into her mind, summoning her to an audience – the Queen demanded her presence.

“William, book me a flight to Scotland, please. I need to visit the Queen,” Scarlet instructed, signalling to Meiko to prepare the car. She had plans to stop for some book shopping before her departure for the Queen.

“Yes, Milady. The plane will be ready before three,” William replied, setting the arrangements in motion.

This was no commercial flight but a small private plane, specially purchased by Kyle for Scarlet’s frequent travels between London and Inverness Airport, the nearest airstrip to the Isle of Skye.

Scarlet arrived with a stack of newly acquired books in tow, the flight passing swiftly.

Before her days at Hogwarts, visits to the Queen had been a regular affair – sometimes as often as weekly when she was in the UK. But this was her first visit after a long and hectic school term.

William drove her to the ruins, accompanied by Meiko, and watched as the young lady disappeared with her books after performing a brief ritual at the site.

He sighed, folding his arms. “Milady has been quite impetuous lately. Any idea what’s brought this on?”

Meiko considered for a moment before answering, “Perhaps it’s the information that American girl shared. Before that, milady always chose the most cautious path.”

“Ah, shortcuts – they do have a way of making success feel intoxicating,” Willian said knowingly. “They blinded our lady for a time. Thankfully, she’s come back to her senses.”

“Indeed,” Meiko agreed, her voice calm. The two stood quietly, enjoying the gentle breeze as they waited for their lady to return from the Shadowy Land.

Scarlet stepped into the Shadowy Land, standing before a stone fortress. The imposing structure loomed cold and unyielding, its high fences extending on either side, barring the dead from crossing into the realm of living.

The ground before the fortress was littered with weapons thrust into the earth - some rusted and worn, others gleaming as if newly forged. This had once been a battlefield where Queen Scáthach had warded off invaders and honed her students’ skills. Training equipment, scattered about in disarray, hinted at the fortress’s dual purpose as a bastion and a dojo.

It was here, on this hallowed ground, that Scarlet had trained as the Queen’s latest - and weakest - priestess.

The moment she set foot on the field, the books she had carried with her began to rise, floating steadily toward the fortress gates. The echo of boots striking stone reached her ears, and soon a striking figure emerged – a magnificent woman cladded in light armour.

Scarlet’s heart leapt with joy. She ran to the woman and knelt before her, bowing her head low. The resemblance was undeniable: they shared the same fiery red hair.

“My Queen,” Scarlet intoned reverently, “your servant has come to pay her respects. May the Queen of the Shadowy Land one day find her well-earned rest.”

[Child, welcome.]

Scáthach’s words carried the weight of ancient wisdom, spoken in a language long forgotten in modern syntax. She had no intention of passing down this old tongue, yet the runic stone she had gifted Scarlet translated her teachings effortlessly; though initially inscribed in Gàidhlig, the stone adapted to Scarlet’s understanding, presenting its lessons in modern English, and sometimes in languages Scarlet had learned in a previous life – an enchantment unknow to the halls of Hogwarts.

Scáthach communicated with Scarlet through a far more advanced charm – not mere translation, but the projection of thoughts and intent directly into her mind. Though the Queen moved her lips, it was unnecessary; the connection transcended spoken words.

At first, it had been bewildering. Scarlet heard an ancient language, yet the meaning crystalised in her mind with a clear certainty, encompassing every tongue she had ever learned.

Such was the power of a deity, unfathomable and vast. Scarlet had only begun to scratch the surface.

Scáthach smiled, a rare softness gracing her features. She reached out to gently brush Scarlet’s hair, her touch as light as the wind.

[Do not doubt yourself, child. The places you have walked have tainted you.]

Scarlet froze, her breath catching. She hadn’t noticed any corruption for foreign magic clinging to her. “But...how?”

[Those places are steep in artefacts of dark enchantment. As a priestess, your soul is as pure as a unicorn’s; it is only natural that such darkness clings to you.] Scáthach explained, motioning for Scarlet to rise. [Not by much - just enough to sow doubt, unsettle your mind, disrupt your sleep, and provoke temperance.]

The symptoms sounded minor, but Scarlet frowned. She didn’t feel irrational or unhinged. She could still think clearly.

Scáthach tilted her head, her expression patient. [Beneath the healing moonlight, you recover without realising it. This is nothing more than fine dust upon your soul. It is already swept away – worry no more.]

A maelstrom of thoughts whirled in Scarlet’s mind, but within moments, she steadied herself. Overthinking served no purpose. She bowed low. “Thank you, your grace, for cleansing the unworthy dust from your loyal servant.”

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Scáthach’s lips curled into a grin as she stepped back and seized a spear from the earth – a weapon that stood tall and gleaming, untouched by time.

[It has been some time. Let us see what you’ve learned,] she said, her tone half a challenge, half a command.

“Yes, my Queen.” Scarlet retreated several paces, the familiar weight of Gáe Scáil materialising in her hand as she swiftly donned her battle gear. “Please, educate your humble disciple.”

The clash of spears resounded through the field, the ringing of shaft meeting shaft. Scarlet moved to block and counter, but Scáthach’s swings were effortless – powerful yet unhurried.

In a mere three moves, Scarlet found herself tossed backward, landing hard on the grassy field, dust staining her battle suit, smearing her cheeks.

[Again,] came the Queen’s firm command.

“Yes, my Queen.”

Scáthach’s voice was cold and precise as she critiques Scarlet’s every move, her guidance as sharp as the spear she wielded.

[Your footwork is sloppy.]

[Aim for my eyes, not my forehead.]

[Twist from the hips, not the shoulders.]

[You lack strength. Use agility instead.]

Scarlet’s breaths grew laboured as the relentless pace wore her down, her body straining against the Queen’s impeccable skill.

Then came the sharp demand: [Where is your rune?]

Scarlet’s eyes narrowed in sudden realisation. I forgot! she cursed inwardly, frustration bubbling as she berated herself for falling into predictable patterns.

Scáthach’s fighting style seamlessly blended magic and spearplay, her weapon doubling as a staff for spellcasting. It was a technique Scarlet had yet to master but one her mentor clearly expected her to employ.

Muttering hurried incantations, Scarlet etched short runes into the air. Enchantments flared across her body, bolstering her speed and precision. Like a bolt of lightning, she surged forward, aiming her thrust directly at Scáthach’s left eye.

The Queen parried the strike with effortless grace, deflecting the spear with a casual flick of the shaft. Her counterattack – a simple yet devastatingly effective smack – sent Scarlet stumbling back, even with her magical enhancements.

Though the runes granted her speed and agility, Scarlet remained leagues behind the legendary teacher of heroes.

Flames surged, wind blades sliced through the air, grasses and roots twisted into binding ropes, and fine dusts blurred the view – all summoned by Scarlet. She harnessed every ounce of knowledge from her previous life, drawing upon the elements of nature as her allies in the battle. Yet, despite her resourcefulness, her efforts crumbled effortlessly before the Queen, who barely moved, let alone using magic.

Scarlet’s mind raced. Then, an idea struck her. It came so suddenly that she acted without second thought. Darting forward, she thrust her spear and murmured, “Bombarda.”

The explosion erupted in a fiery burst, the force of it splitting the ait and sending both combatants stepping back to gain distance. For the briefest moment, Scarlet caught the flicker of surprise in Scáthach’s eyes.

Breathing heavily, she watched as the dust dispersed under the gentle wind, revealing the Queen standing firm. Scáthach pressed a hand to her side - the very spot where Scarlet’s spell had landed. Though uninjured, it was clear she had felt the impact.

The Queen’s lips curved into a pleased grin as she relaxed her hand and gave the area a light rub. [I see improvement. A clever move.]

Scarlet blinked in astonishment, her heart racing. “I...I’m honoured, my Queen,” she stammered. “But that was merely a light touch against your majesty.”

[Do not compare yourself to Setanta,] Scáthach said, stepping closer to gently pat the young priestess’s head. [You are brilliant in your own way. Setanta would never think to wield magic as delicately as you do. He was always the brute – charging forward with little thought.]

Setanta. The name stirred memories of legends. Known to the world as Cú Chulainn, he had been the Queen’s most celebrated student. Yet the Queen always referred to him by his given name, as if he were still the spirited boy she had once trained.

The conversation drifted to silence as they turned and entered the fortress. However, Scarlet could only remain in the entrance hall, for the power that radiated deeper within was far beyond what any mortal could endure. The fortress, after all, served as a barrier between life and death.

As they stood in the vast stone chamber, Scarlet’s gaze fell upon a row of five jars lining the wall. Within each vessel, something vile and oozing writhed – a repulsive sight that made her stomach twist. But as she stared, recognition dawned. Her eyes widened in shock.

“The soul fragments!” she exclaimed.

[Indeed,] The Queen confirmed with a nod. [Though incomplete. I cannot forge them into a whole. A cowardly cheat of a soul, truly.]

“Yes,” Scarlet murmured, her brow furrowed. “Two pieces remain. One is locked away in a bank vault, and I’ll need time to figure out how to retrieve it. The other...” She hesitated, her expressing darkening. “The other troubles me. It resides on my friend’s forehead.”

[Ah,] Scáthach said, her tone thoughtful. [A tricky predicament indeed.]

Scarlet knelt before the deity, her gaze fixed on the stone floor beneath her. “My Queen, I fear for my friend. The soul fragment attached to him may harm him as it grows stronger. I’ve delivered five of these fragments to you, but the remaining two will have surely sensed something. The one hidden in the vault lacks the strength to escape on its own, but the fragment in my friend’s head...it feeds on his negative emotions, growing with every passing year. Please, my Queen, show me the path to preserve his sanity.”

Scáthach’s lips curved into a pleased smile. [You are wise to ask for guidance, child. But do not burden yourself so heavily.]

She leaned down slightly, brushing Scarlet’s hair gently as if comforting a fretful child. [Your time at the school had blinded you with the praises of your peers. Had I not summoned you here, you would have buried yourself in endless schemes to help your friend, never stopping to reflect or seek aid.]

The Queen’s tone softened, a rare warmth lacing her words. [Remember, you are still young. Ask for help, child. Rely on those to care for you. The man you have chosen to confide in will not fail you. Take the time to stumble, to make mistakes, to fall and rise again – there is no shame in it. Even saints have faltered.]

Scarlet’s head dipped lower as the Queen’s words settled within her. “I...I have troubled you with my recklessness, my Queen. I am deeply sorry.”

Scáthach grinned, a flash of satisfaction in her eyes. [Foolish child. I am glad to guide once more.]

She reached to her side and retrieved a small, simple pocket knife, its blade gleaming faintly under the fortress’s dime light. With deliberate grace, she handed it to Scarlet. [The fragment within your friend is no more than a splinter beneath the skin. Use this blade to extract it. Once done, summon me. All will be well.]

Scarlet’s heart swelled with gratitude. She accepted the blade reverently, her fingers trembling slightly as she held the instrument of her Queen’s power. “Thank you, your grace, for your guidance and trust. I will not fail you.”

Scáthach gave a small nod, satisfaction written across her divine features.

Scarlet rose to her feet, her resolve renewed. The plan had shifted once more, but now it was clear. Before her departure for Japan, she had planned to visit Harry, to address the concerns he had raised during their phone call days ago. Now, it was also to finally remove the cursed fragment from his forehead – something she had long sought to accomplish.

With the Queen’s blessing and the sacred knife in hand, Scarlet felt ready to take the next step in her mission.