Dawn of the Elements - Book 4: Future Rewritten

Chapter Four: Like Father Like Daughter

Melody opened her eyes, to be met by a bright light. After regaining her vision, she discovered that she was lying in a hospital bed, in the castle's MedLab. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled her nostrils, a stark contrast to the smoky battlefields she'd grown accustomed to. Sitting up, a jolt of pain shot through her, a phantom ache in the place where her right arm used to be.

She looked down. Where flesh and muscle once flowed, there was now a sleek, black prosthetic, interwoven with intricate gold filigree. It looked less like a replacement and more like a finely crafted piece of weaponry. A wave of nausea washed over her, the metallic scent of the prosthetic suddenly overwhelming. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the MedLab.

Her anxiety clawed at her throat, a suffocating fear threatening to consume her. Then, a voice, calm and almost cheerful, cut through the rising panic. "You know," it said, "this is the third time I've had to attach new limbs to a Master of Fire. Well, Mistress in your case."

Melody whipped her head towards the sink. Dresnia, her father's longtime advisor and a woman whose age was as enigmatic as her skills, was washing her hands with meticulous care. The water glistened, reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights above.

Dresnia dried her hands on a pristine towel, her expression unreadable. She approached Melody, her gaze steady and unwavering. "You and your father are more alike than you might realize," Dresnia said, her voice low and even. She reached out, gently touching the prosthetic arm. "How does it feel?"

Melody stared at the artificial limb, the intricate gold details catching the light. It felt... strangely right. There was no phantom limb pain, no unsettling emptiness. Instead, a strange sense of power thrummed beneath the surface, a subtle hum that resonated deep within her. A faint smile touched her lips. "It feels... powerful," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Like it's an extension of myself, not a replacement."

Dresnia's lips curved into a slight smile. "Indeed. Your father always had a knack for choosing the right tools. Now, let's get you up and moving. There's much to discuss."

"Foreign." Melody responded, her voice a strained whisper, as she struggled to regain control of her racing heart. "I don't feel... complete anymore, if that makes sense." The words were a raw expression of the gaping void within her, a feeling of fragmentation that resonated deep within her soul.

Dresnia offered a knowing nod, her expression softening with empathy. She understood the profound sense of loss, the unsettling disconnect that came with such a drastic change. The weight of their shared history, the trials and tribulations they had both endured, bound them together in this moment of vulnerability.

Suddenly, the MedLab doors burst open, and Silver, his usually composed demeanor shattered, charged into the room. Lyna, her face etched with worry, followed closely behind. Silver's eyes still held a reptilian glint, and the tips of his horns, though subdued, were still visible. However, the sheer intensity of his initial rage had dissipated, replaced by a palpable wave of relief and concern.

"Melody, you're alright!" he exclaimed, his voice thick with emotion as he rushed to her side. He gently settled onto the edge of the bed, reaching for her left hand, his touch tentative yet full of affection. He then carefully placed his gloved right hand over hers, as if seeking to anchor himself to the present reality. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Melody's gaze drifted back to the black and gold prosthesis, the metallic gleam a constant reminder of the events that had transpired. "You and Uncle Terry were fighting," she replied, her voice trembling slightly. "I couldn't help myself. I jumped in between you. I remember a searing, stinging sensation, then...nothing." The memory of the blinding pain, the sudden darkness, and the abrupt absence of her arm sent a fresh wave of nausea through her.