Violet Thistlewaite Is Not a Villain Anymore by Emily Krempholtz - 37

For the second time in a week, Violet returned to Shadowfade Castle. Bees buzzed happily through the colorful flowers of her overgrown gardens, probably thrilled for the out-of-season nectar. But Violet felt sick looking at anything her magic had grown.

She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid. No more dark magic , she’d vowed when she came to Dragon’s Rest, but it had been there all along, letting itself free through the windows even as she carefully guarded the doors. She understood now what Nathaniel had been trying to say about magic and energy. Pulling life from the plants around her? That was evil, even if the magic she had taken from those plants wasn’t. Violet had brought destruction to her community, all because she was a naïve little girl who wanted to be good and had no idea what that truly meant. She dragged a hand over her scar, a permanent reminder of her own stupidity.

What would the Tempest, that shining hero, think of her now? Would she see the blighted remains of Dragon’s Rest and regret her decision to leave Violet alive? Would she see Sedgwick’s plan and understand that Violet couldn’t possibly be good because even if she wasn’t evil, she was nothing on her own? She was a tool in someone else’s hand, only as good or evil as its wielder.

Misery overtook her anew as Violet realized even that wasn’t right. Shadowfade had forced her hand at the end, yes, but she’d been the one who destroyed those towns, who killed those people, all because she wanted him to care for her as something other than a master would his favorite hunting hound.

Violet’s innate well of magic was never dark or evil; it was what had grown the greenhouse jungle that night, after all. It was what had sprouted rosebushes on these lawns and calmed her moods with the gentle touch of branches and vines on her shoulder. No, Nathaniel was correct here as well—her magic was never bad; she was the one who had used it so poorly.

But that stopped today.

She crept toward the castle, avoiding the front entrance. Sedgwick had set up his workspace in the Great Hall, so it would only make sense that was where he’d taken Peri. Violet made her way toward a side entrance, the same one she’d used to make her escape after Shadowfade had— No, it was time to stop talking around it. After she’d killed him.

Violet slipped through the servant’s corridor and peered into the Great Hall. Sedgwick stood exactly where she’d stabbed Shadowfade and had watched him bleed out before she ran. Intricate ritual symbols had been painted onto the parquet floor, forming a circle around the metal box she’d seen that day with Pru. He was preparing to do the spell, then.

In Sedgwick’s hands was a large yellow-green gemstone, about the size of his fist. The Eye of the Serpent. Violet looked for Peri and found the rock goblin lying motionless at Sedgwick’s feet, a cavernous hole in his chest.

“Thornwitch,” said Sedgwick with a smile, turning to look directly at her. “So good of you to join us.”

“My name,” she said, stepping fully into the hall, “is Violet Thistlewaite. Not Thornwitch. What have you done to Peri?”

“Who?” Sedgwick looked around, following her gaze to the rock in his hand. He laughed. “The rock goblin? Oh, Thornwitch, you have gone soft.”

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Peri move. She had little understanding of rock goblin physiology or what it took to injure one, but her friend was alive at least. She could work with that, but now she needed to focus on Sedgwick. Remembering the nasty vial he’d thrown at her before, she glanced around for traps. Sure enough, there was a line of some glittering substance about three feet in front of him, and above them hung a curtain, no doubt coated in some devious powder that would immobilize her. She did not want to bring blight or other consequences, so she abandoned everything she’d taught herself about magic during her time in Dragon’s Rest and allowed her own eager power to flood her senses. Her eyes gleaming green, she conjured a careful mass of creeping vines that slowly bound the curtain so he could not shake the powder loose.

“Tristan, stop this,” she said to Sedgwick, deliberately using his first name just as he had deliberately avoided using hers. All she had to do was keep him talking. “He’s gone and we’re better off for it. What will bringing him back do for you?”

“Shadowfade had vision,” said Sedgwick, his jaw tight. “He had power and he wasn’t afraid to use it, unlike you.” It was clear from how he spat the words that he saw it as an insult.

“You’re right. For a long time, the power he wielded gave me purpose. I didn’t belong anywhere else but with him. But you are the one who set me free, Tristan. You’re the one who woke me up when you gave me that letter about my mother. You made me realize I could be something else.”

He reared back like she’d struck him, and she recalled the moment the alchemist wavered in her shop. She wasn’t the only one who felt aimless without a master to follow. Only Sedgwick never had anyone to show him there was more. He’d never had anyone to offer him a second chance. Gently, Violet gave him the words she wished someone had said to her years ago. “You can be more than what he made of you.”

Sedgwick’s face twisted. “What are you talking about?”

“He won’t love you for bringing him back,” she said softly. “You might think it will win you his favor but he’ll resent that he needed you. Whatever you’re looking for by resurrecting him? You won’t find it.”

For a moment it was as if she could read his every thought: He wasn’t powerful like she was; he couldn’t command respect through his magic alone. But he was smart, the kind of man who had clung to power all his life, a pilot fish over the shoulder of the shark, knowing the chum upon which he fed was all due to his patron. Following someone like Shadowfade lent him protection, armored him in someone else’s power, made him feel he had a purpose. Made him feel needed.

Violet could relate.

“You can build what you need without him,” she cajoled in the same voice she’d used to get Daisy out from under the bush. She wished she had one of Guy’s pastries to offer, but all she had were the same words that drew her out of her own personal darkness. “You could be so much better. You could be good.”

Sedgwick froze.

“Good?” Sedgwick scoffed, but his voice trembled. He wanted to believe there was more to life. She could see it in his ragged expression even as he shook his head. “People like us are not good , Thornwitch. You think you’re a hero now?”

“No.” It was the truth. “I’m not a hero. I don’t even know if I can be truly good. But I’m not the Thornwitch anymore either. I’m something different. Something better. You could be too.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re grasping for a fantasy.”

“I found it,” she said quietly. “Even if just for a little while, I found a home and a community. I built a life on my own terms, without Shadowfade. Don’t you want to try?”

For a moment she thought she had him convinced. They could end this without bloodshed and lay to rest any chance of Shadowfade’s return. Sedgwick could start over just like Violet had, and she’d help him do it.

But then his mouth twitched into a sneer, and cruelty clanked over his voice like a bolt sliding shut over a door. “I’ll never be anything other than this,” he drawled. “And neither will you. I didn’t set you free, I broke you. You’re fooling yourself, Thornwitch. For all your power, you’re weak.”

She let her eyes fall closed, his words sinking into her like knives. “I was afraid you might say that.”

“And now what? You’re going to turn all Thornwitch on me? Going to kill me? Go ahead and prove me right, Violet . Prove you’ll never be anything but a villain.” He spat her name like a curse, like a lie.

And maybe it was true. Maybe the Thornwitch would never truly leave her. Maybe she would always be a part of Violet.

But maybe…maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Violet was different now than when she lived at this castle, and it was because she wanted to be. Because she was choosing to be different every single day. She might not yet feel worthy of her home and the love of those around her, but she was working at it.

Perhaps that’s what it meant to be good after all. Goodness wasn’t something you could just be ; it was something you did . Violet had done terrible things, but it didn’t mean she needed to be a villain for the rest of her life. Just like her magic, she was not good or evil until she chose to be, and she could choose goodness and love and take steps every day to make sure she was worthy of her friends and her home and herself. It would never undo the past, but she owed it to herself and others to change her future.

To do better.

Be better.

Be good .

And it started right now, because her job today had never been to duel Sedgwick; it had been to stall for time.

“You were right about the Thornwitch, Tristan. She’s not as powerful alone.” Violet’s power buzzed within her, and from somewhere behind her rose the sound of a solitary violin.

The door to the Great Hall thundered open, just as they’d planned before she came up to the castle. Plan B.

The brightest constellations shine not from a single star, but many.

And as her friends poured through the doors of the Great Hall, armed and ready to defend their home—defend her —Violet’s smile grew. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Nathaniel among them; until that moment she hadn’t been sure he would come. But he caught her eye and nodded at her, removing a vial from the bandolier across his chest, and the feeling that grew inside Violet then felt a lot like hope. She didn’t know where they stood—didn’t know if he could forgive her for deceiving him—but he was here. That counted for something, didn’t it?

Violet turned back to Sedgwick. “I’m not alone anymore.”