Discordant Note: Crescendo | TBATE

Chapter 248: The Once and Future

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Arthur Leywin

Tessia didn't explain anything more, despite my pushes and protests. She simply turned, telling me that the Council was being gathered. What members could be gathered.

The next few minutes were a whirl of activity and slowly rising panic as questions churned in the back of my mind.

We were silent as Sylvie, Tess, and I marched toward the council room like convicts approaching the guillotine. The fact that the Alacryans had somehow attacked Tess and Gramps in the heart of the elven forest wasn't lost on me. The implications of it all–not just of the fact that Virion was somehow comatose, for reasons that hadn't been explained to me yet–swam through my head as I gritted my teeth.

Sylvie held Tessia's hand as we walked, taking on the role of an older sister as she gave my childhood friend something to use to anchor herself. Tessia didn't squeeze her hand back, but neither did she take it away.

The large, embellished doors of the council room stood like beckoning gates to a doomed trial. Though the golden filigree and ornate symbols on the doors usually evoked a sense of grandeur and impossible size, now they only seemed to mock our antlike forms for daring to approach.

Yet Tessia didn't hesitate as she reached the doors. She gently pulled her hand from Sylvie's, then pushed open the door.

And as the council room revealed itself to me, my earlier statement only became more certain.

An aura of death pervaded every person in sight, clinging to their skin and making their cheeks hollow. The former king and queen Glayder both sat limply in their seats, looking as if they were already corpses. Across from them, Alduin Eralith's cheeks were stained wet with tears.

His wife was not by his side.

The only councilmember who didn't appear to have the life drained from them in some sort of vivum spell was Elder Buhndemog Lonuid. He alone stood, his overly muscled form tense and agitated. He glared down at the table, though, unwilling to voice a word.

It was deadly silent as Tessia led me inside. Aya Grephin refused to look in our direction from where she stood behind Alduin, and Varay's eyes were even icier than usual. Even Bairon Wykes appeared unsettled, his expression darkened by indecipherable emotion.

Aya is here, I immediately noted, and Merial Eralith is not.

The attention of all present slowly shifted to my childhood friend as she marched into the room. Solemn and tear-red eyes honed in on her, each whispering quiet despair and condemnation.

Normally, I would sit by the council table whenever I took part in the meetings. But right now, with the stares of the most powerful people in the continent quietly demanding some sort of divine message from my childhood friend, I felt I couldn't leave.

Sensing my quiet decision, Sylvie moved to Tessia's left, hoping to bolster the elven princess with her presence. In turn, I stood on her right, hoping that I was welcome. Even if I had... lied with my silence, I knew the elven princess well enough to understand what must be going through her mind right now.

I was already starting to put together the pieces, Grey's analytical mind churning like clockwork in the back of my head. Lance Aya's uniform was battered and worn–not as truly decimated as Tessia's was. But her mana signature still showed signs of quiet exhaustion like Tess'. The shame in her normally glassy eyes was haunting as she refused to look down at the elven princess.

And Merial wasn't here, while Alduin wept.

Somehow, Zestier had been attacked. Merial, Virion, and Tess had fought, and only one emerged whole.