Discordant Note: Crescendo | TBATE

Chapter 200: Adieu to Innocence

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Seris Vritra

The tide seemed unnaturally still as my steamship coasted into the harbor of Burim Bay. The engine deep within puffed toxic fumes into the air, a legion of black smokestacks behind me heralding the Alacryan advance.

Cliffs loomed high above me, the canyon walls of the mouth of the Sehz River seeming eager to swallow our ships whole. A massive cavern ate into the side of one of the cliffs, just barely revealing the city far within.

Burim was admittedly impressive from afar. From where we docked, I could see the points where magma continuously flowed into the ocean after every lavatide, cementing into more and more land. Yet the sole harbor of Darv was set a ways away from the core of their city: after all, if it were too close to the mouth of the cavern, it risked being overrun with magma whenever the lavatides struck.

A true marvel of engineering, I thought appreciatively. To take what should have been an impossible circumstance and twist it into one of their greatest strengths... I suppose I must commend these dwarves for their ingenuity.

I'd received regular updates on the status of the battle within the cavern on my communication artifact. A small contingent of our steamship fleet–small enough that we could effectively skirt around detection from Dicathian scouts–had been stationed near one of the exit points of the Grand Mountain Strait. We'd hidden in the shadow of the Earthmother's Isle–the sole island past the Grand Mountains that created the strait. And perhaps an hour past, I'd received final confirmation of the city's capture.

"Cylrit," I said to my Retainer at my side, "tend to the ships and secure their landing. Ensure they are anchored safely and securely, and that no remnant Dicathians attempt to sabotage them."

My trim Retainer nodded shortly, keeping his gaze forward. I knew, deep down, that I could always trust him to follow through.

I hovered off the bow of the steamship, allowing the ambient mana to carry me aloft. The sea wind whipped at my hair as I flew toward the yawning mouth of Burim. The opening in the cliffside seemed like the den of a predator, but no predator within could match me.

I entered the jaws of the cave, my eyes tracing the stalactites that hung from the ceiling. Remnants of battles hard-fought still lingered. Wisping eddies of mana and spellfire drifted across my senses, telling a tale of their own. The scent of smoke and blood was heavy in the air. I knew from experience that the scent would diminish after a few days–as it always did in the aftermath of war. But the scars on the people would last far longer.

The dwarves stopped and stared at me as I slowly flew through the cavern. Those stares–most filled with fear and apprehension–became my armor as I gradually floated toward the central crater of Burim. It had been half a century since the Redfeud War, but the similarities I witnessed were striking.

There is one true constant in war, I thought grimly. And that is sacrifice.

Olfred Warend was waiting for me on one of the central platforms within the city. My high heels made no sound as they settled onto the hard stone, grounding themselves once more.

"Scythe," Lance Balrog said, his wariness writ clear on his face.

"Lance," I replied primly. "I take it your endeavors here have been successful?"

The dwarf snorted. "Aye, you could say that," he said. "We've rounded up the former leadership of Burim. They're under the watch of Jotilda Shintstone, and the city now belongs to the rebellion."

I felt a rising sense of pity somewhere far in the depths of my soul as my gaze panned around, taking in the scene of the dwarves as they hurried about, trying not to look at me. You say it belongs to the rebellion, I thought, looking back at the Lance, but we both know who holds the power here.