Scarlet Archive: The Origin

The New Life

"Look at her beautiful features; pale white skin, lavender hair, not to mention her striking scarlet eyes. Well, I can say she is the best asset I have. What do you say, sire?"

The man inspected the little girl on display, tapping his chin as he observed her every last details, eyes still searching for a right decision. The trader seemed to notice this as he opened his mouth once again to butter up his customer.

"But beauty isn't the only thing she has, yes. Her strength rivals that of a full grown man. And, just a little secret between us—"

His voice grew smaller until it was nothing more than a whisper.

"It is believed that she is a descendant from the noble family of Scarlet, the fearsome vampires."


298 years ago, a city in France—

My name was Remilia Scarlet, the heiress of the noble vampire of Scarlet. Or should I say I was, until that night; the night when I killed all the other vampires.

I wasn't simply running myself in a fit of rage; I had every single reason to tear them with my bare claws and fangs for all those years they spent tormenting my poor little sister. That night, though, also signaled for my own fall, and what's more, I brought my sister with me to that deepest pit I fell into. That, to speak the truth, was the only thing I regretted from the moment I realized this nightmare was nowhere near its end.

As I indulged myself in my own memoirs, as sharp pain erupted from my back; the pain I had known too well in the past two years I spent in this foreign land.

"Hey you, stop idling around!"

The slave driver raised his whip one more time and I scurried back to my patch of field, sending secret glare at him. Yes, I was a slave now. From a proud noble vampire to a life own by a filthy human; that was how low I had fallen. I worked in the plantation from dawn until dusk, ignoring how the sun still secretly burned my pale skin despite my vampiric powers that gradually fading with time. In fact, I had almost forgot how life as a vampire was, prior to that fateful night, when the only thing I had to worry about was a scolding from my tutor for daydreaming about running down the street. Those days felt more like a delusion I made myself rather than a true long gone memories.

Life wasn't always about the sun kissing my back and a whip lashed over my hardly recovering wounds, though. In fact, it wasn't this bad at first, when I worked at the laundry due to the color of my skin, and being one of the master's 'favorable collections'. One day though, something utterly unexpected happened; Flan, with no apparent reason, clutched on a white overseer throat that was smiling smugly at her, choking him to death. We were sent to the plantation since, unable to see one another for day to end.

But what troubled me the most wasn't this cruel daily routine I had learned to endure, but how Flandre's face twisted into a sickening smile as she put an end to that man's life; how it sent a chill down my fragile figure and shaken my very being.


I woke up in alarm, to the sound of footsteps that slowly grew closer. Looking on the figure in my arms, I saw my little sister sleeping soundly with her wounds slowly recovering, her burn marks could still be seen. Wincing from the pain that suddenly shot all across my body, I tried to shake her awake.

"Flan. Flandre, wake up. We have to move. Someone is coming."

She opened her eyes groggily, blinking a few times. I took that time to fully observe her conditions, noting that her wings were nowhere to be seen, which seemed to be the same case as mine. She seemed disoriented as she gaze blankly at me, and I blinked back at her.

"What is wrong, Flan?"

"…who are you?"

That three simple words felt like a spear lunged over my heart. I swallowed, trying to find my voice amidst my shock.

"It is me, Remilia. Remilia Scarlet. Your older sister."

"…Remi?"

My breath caught in my throat as I heard her saying my name instead of calling me with the usual honorific, but nodded nonetheless. She paused for a while before opening her mouth again.

"So, who am I?"


The sun had long set in the horizon as I retreated back to the cold damp cell under the mansion where my master lived. It was ironic, I thought, how I used to live up there when our human slaves, namely our foods, used to live down here. Most slaves lived in separated shacks away from the mansion, but I and the rest of his favorites, lived under his home. It was easy to distinguish us from common slaves; we all secretly had our own 'uniqueness', and bore the same black leathery collar around our neck with a metal plating that shown our names.

REM. Those were the three alphabet carved on my collar, which I found like it was ripped out of my real name with no real meaning whatsoever. Flan herself had the word 'FLN' carved on hers; a strange name that I swore they called her 'Flynn' instead since they didn't have any idea how to pronounce the latter. The life of us favorites were nothing better than common slaves, if not any worse, for us usually received hateful stares from others, while we worked in the most dangerous and dirty parts. Some that were lucky enough served as the house slaves, tending to the master's family; Flan and I were once included in that circle, but not anymore.

I slumped to the cold ground as the slave driver shoved me roughly to my room, locking the metal door behind me. I raised my head, searching for my sister that had supposedly returned as well; my gaze fell on a beaten up figure curled on the far corner of the room.

"Flandre!"

I quickly rushed to her side, holding her close to me.

"Flan, what happened?"

My ears caught a small giggle from her, before it turned into a full insane laughter. My eyes widened in horror.

"Hey, hey, Remi. Didn't you see how it wriggle? You know, like a pathetic worm? It's funny, isn't it? Ha ha, you should've seen that eyes! That lowly piece of—"

Slap!

I hit her. Without any thinking, without any warning; I just hit her, and now I stared at my own right hand in horror. She held her red cheek, staring at me with her own perplexed face. I stammered, slowly backing away.

"Flan, I… I'm sorry, I… I didn't…"

Suddenly, she embraced me and buried her face on the wretched fabric of my clothes, sobbing, muttering 'sorry' over and over. I couldn't help myself and brought her closer, stroking her hair gently to calm her.

"I don't know what came over me, Remi… Everything just went black, and…"

"Shush, it's alright. I know you didn't mean it, Flan. It's alright."

She nodded slowly. Our tranquil moment was stopped short as a loud clank was heard coming from the steel door of our room. Then emerged the figure I knew so well from it; I brought Flandre behind me.

"Shut yer bickering!"

I closed my eyes as he raised his whip, ready to endure all the blows.

one, two

"You stinking little—

three, four, five

"—don't cha know I need my sleep—

six, seven

"—ungrateful bunch of—"

By the time he left the room I had lost count. The only sound that lulled me to the dreamless abyss of darkness was the voice of Flandre slowly calling my name.


I was in the same field, working myself to the bone, my back still throbbing from the last torture I had the other night. I bit my lip as I bent my back, enduring the pain that erupted every time I brought up my hoe to dig on the hard ground. I held into my consciousness that seemed to be ready to slip any time.

"Oi, Rem!"

Was someone calling my name? I tried to focus my eyes to the direction of the voice.

"Come here right now, little runt!"

Growling low under my breath, I left my post and approached that slave driver I learned to hate the most. Only by the time I was a few feet away from him that I realized another figure beside him; a young girl, about the age of 8 or so, with cold blue eyes and silver hair. Her icy orbs fell upon me and I gave back my piercing red ones to her.

"She's all yours, now."

She broke our eye contact and turned around, tossing a gold coin to the slave driver whose eyes glittered in ravish greed. I blinked at her behavior, but my confusion was cut short as that-man-I-hate-the-most shoved me with his whip.

"Move yer butt already!"

I gave him one final glare before following the little girl, away from the plantation, toward the huge mansion that stood proudly in the middle of the bustling town.


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