Chapter 55: Settling Scores
Emily stood at the edge of the abandoned garden, the wind tugging at the ends of her icy-blue braids. It was an eerie place—half-forgotten, swallowed by time and nature, where crumbling statues stood like silent ghosts among overgrown weeds. The air smelled faintly of rust and old rain. She stood still, one gloved hand resting on her hip, the other loosely holding the phone she had used to confirm her arrival.
She didn’t come here just because someone told her to. She came because she wanted to. Because she heard that he was here — The one responsible for Elizabeth’s death.
Her fingers twitched at the thought, and her expression hardened. The memory of her sister’s laughter, of the quiet moments they’d shared before everything changed, felt so distant now—like a dream that had soured into a nightmare. She hadn’t expected to find herself face-to-face with the man who ended it all so soon... but fate, it seemed, had different plans.
The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed from the far side of the garden. Her gaze snapped toward the noise, and for a brief moment, time felt suspended.
He appeared between the crumbling archway—Alex.
Golden eyes. Blue hair. Calm posture— It was definitely him, the one who took her other half.
Everything about him was far too casual for someone who was about to meet the embodiment of his consequences.
Alex walked forward slowly, the faintest trail of cigarette smoke drifting around him as he slid his hands into his coat pockets. The garden wind tousled his hair, but his gaze was locked onto her. Steady and unapologetic.
"So," he said at last, voice even, watching her with unreadable eyes. "You finally came."
Emily’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she studied him—measuring his strength, watching his posture, analyzing everything from the sharpness of his gaze to the looseness of his stance. This wasn’t a man caught off guard. He had planned this meeting down to the hour.
And she hated how calm he looked.
"You don’t seem surprised," she finally said, her voice cool, sharp like ice.
"I’m not," Alex replied. "I knew you were coming the moment I found out who you were."
Her fists clenched inside her gloves. "Then you also know why I’m here."
He gave a slow nod, taking a few steps closer but keeping his distance respectful. "Elizabeth Blackwood... She’s your sister."
Emily’s jaw tightened.
"She was everything to me," she said. "And you killed her."
Alex didn’t flinch. He had expected those words, he had been preparing himself for them from the moment Rose showed him that picture.
"I didn’t want it to happen like that," he said quietly. "But it had to."
"No," Emily snapped, taking a step forward, her aura crackling faintly with a sudden cold. Frost began to kiss the edges of nearby stones. "You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to justify what you did."
"I’m not justifying anything," Alex replied, his tone steady but not defensive. "But I will say this—Elizabeth made her choice. You weren’t there. You don’t know what really happened that day."
"And you think I’ll just take your word for it?" Emily’s voice was rising now, anger flashing in her fiery orange eyes. "That I’ll listen to the man who ripped the last of my family away from me?"
She lifted her hand. The air around her shimmered, sharp and frigid.
"I came here to kill you."
Alex didn’t move. His eyes didn’t waver. He stood like a mountain—rooted, calm, and almost accepting his fate.
"I know," he said.
His voice was quiet. Firm. And for a second, Emily faltered.
There was no panic in his expression. No flurry of excuses or pleas for mercy. Just the same calm look in his eyes, as though he had been expecting death all along.
"I won’t stop you," he said. "If that’s what you want."
Emily stared at him. Her breath was unsteady. The cold around her flared more violently, blades of frost creeping up the marble of a broken bench near her side.
But something twisted in her chest—something she wasn’t prepared for.
This was not the monster she imagined.
This was not the villain she had painted in her mind during all those sleepless nights filled with grief and hatred.
She stepped forward slowly, one hand glowing with a swirling blue energy, her voice trembling slightly now. "Why aren’t you fighting back?"
"Because you’re not my enemy," Alex said.
The words hung in the air like a blade, suspended.
Emily opened her mouth to speak—then stopped. The wind brushed past her face again, and for the first time in years, she hesitated.
And Alex noticed. "I want answers too," he said. "About Elizabeth. About why she never told me she had a sister. We’ve been close, really close but she didn’t tell me anything about having a sister. The least I know is that she was frail right from birth and was adopted by the Blackwoods."
Emily’s fingers twitched, and the cold dimmed slightly.
"I don’t believe in accidents," he continued. "And something tells me you being here now isn’t one either. You want something from me, don’t you?"
A long silence followed. Neither of them moved. Then, quietly, Emily lowered her hand just a little—not all the way, not in surrender, but enough to show she wasn’t going to strike just yet.
"I’m not here for your friendship," she said, her voice sharp but lower now. "Don’t mistake my hesitation for mercy."
Alex nodded once. "I wouldn’t dare."
Another pause.
"I want the truth," Emily said. "Every single of them and if I find out that you are lying, I will show no mercy."
Alex frowned slightly. "What truth exactly?" He asked her. "What do you want to know?"
"My sister’s death," Emily replied. "Why did you kill her?"
"I have told you, and I believe that you also know the truth. I didn’t kill your sister. She did."
"But you were there, isn’t it?" Emily asked him.
Alex’s jaw tightened at her question. "Yes," he said after a pause. "I was there."
Emily’s eyes blazed. "Then you let it happen. You stood there and watched her die."
"No." His voice was sharper now, colder. "You think I wanted that? That I stood by and watched her bleed out like some bystander? You weren’t there, Emily. You didn’t see what I saw."
"Then tell me," she snapped, her hand still humming with frost. "Tell me what you saw."
Alex looked at her for a long moment. And then, as the wind stirred between them and silence pressed down like a weight, he spoke.
"She had already changed," he began. "Your sister... Elizabeth wasn’t human anymore."
Emily’s mouth parted slightly, her fury twisting into confusion.
"But even then... even like that, I was ready to accept her."
His gaze dropped to the cracked stones beneath them.
"People called her a monster, but I didn’t care. That it didn’t matter what she had become. She was still Elizabeth to me. Still the same girl who laughed like the world hadn’t crushed her, who believed in people even when they didn’t deserve it."
Emily stood frozen, the cold around her dimming just a little.
"She accepted me too," Alex said. "In that moment, she believed me. She took my hand."
He paused. The next part hurt to say. It always did.
"But then they came—heroes. I don’t know who sent them or how they found her, but they came to kill. And she... she knew she wouldn’t survive."
His voice dropped lower, like he was telling a secret meant for the dead.
"She didn’t want me to see what she would become. She didn’t want to implicate me, but I never wanted any of those."
His hand curled into a fist at his side.
"She smiled at me. Smiled like nothing was wrong. And then she picked up a dagger, pressed it to her neck... and cut."
Alex’s eyes met Emily’s again, and for the first time, she saw something different in him—grief.
"She died in my arms. Her blood on my hands."
Emily’s breath hitched. Her arms dropped to her sides as the wind around her stilled.
It was quiet. The silence after thunder. The stillness after a storm has broken everything.
"I didn’t kill your sister," Alex said. "But I watched her die. And I’ve lived with that every day."
Emily’s hands trembled. She wanted to scream, to call him a liar. To throw her power at him and see him suffer.
But something inside her cracked. Just a little.
"You’re lying," she whispered.
"I wish I was."
She looked away, her vision blurring. Her throat tightened.
"I searched everywhere for her," Emily said. "Years. They told me she ran away. They said she was sick. That she was weak."
"She wasn’t weak," Alex said, his voice steady again. "She was stronger than all of us."
Emily didn’t speak. She couldn’t as there was no words in her throat.
"But you watched her die. She died for you!" She stammered.
"I never asked her to die for me, I never needed it. What is the point in dying? There is nothing in this life that is worth dying for. Even the most powerful hero died for humanity, but in the end, what happened? The very humans he died for are still going around living in sin. So what was the point of his death?"
Silence.
She stared at the crumbling garden, at the ruined beauty around her, and realized it was the perfect place for the truth to be buried and unearthed again.
"Why did you bring me here?" she asked at last, her voice hoarse.
"Because I knew you were coming for my head," Alex replied. "And I wanted you to hear it from me before you decided whether or not to take it."
She looked at him again. Not as the enemy. Not yet as anything else. Just... him. The boy who held her sister as she died.
The air between them was fragile now. No longer burning with hate. Just haunted by memory.
"I need time," she whispered.
Alex gave a slow nod. "Take all you need."
Then, wordlessly, Emily turned and walked away.
And Alex... he watched her go, not with relief, but with something closer to sorrow.
