Discordant Note: Crescendo | TBATE

Chapter 281: Symphony for What May Be

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Toren Daen

My exhaustion was soul-deep.

The following days were spent interned in the Divot trying to recover my strength, as per Seris' orders. My heartbeat brought quiet agonies with every pulse, my overuse of Resonant Flow making itself known. Though my heartfire had regenerated and my body was in near-perfect health, it was my very spirit itself that felt worn.

The Brand of the Banished was to blame. Every time Chul's fist had smashed into my face or driven into my chest, the Brand had seared my very soul, burning away my primordial essence. I had spent many days simply meditating in the silent Sea of my Soul, pulling scattered pieces of my soul back into alignment. Memories I hadn't known I'd lost realigned themselves. Foundations for emotions I'd lost drifted back to me.

So it was as I sat, cross-legged, in that endless, black expanse. The Sea beneath me was no longer freshwater kissed by the sunrise. No, now it was an ocean of crimson. My very soul was akin to the aftermath of a battlefield. The scent of copper and metal infused my lungs every time I breathed.

It was hard to see into the Abyss beyond, now. Normally, Aurora's light had cast everything in the healthy glow of a sunrise, but she was... dim, now. I couldn't bear to look at the scarred reflection of her soul as it pulsed weak light across my bloody spirit. It made me think too much of dusk instead of dawn.

Lady Dawn had been injured just as deeply as I during the Breaking of Burim. I knew she was trying to pull herself back, on some subconscious level. I could feel it in how she gravitated toward me, using me as an anchor to try and heal over the parts that had been burned.

Without her light... it was hard to see into the far darkness beyond. No guiding star lit my way at every step as I stared blankly into the soul space, searching for familiarity.

I thought I could see Seris' soul. That pale moon, covered in shadows. But that darkness of ephemeral silk seemed darker somehow. What I would have normally been able to pierce was impossible without Aurora's light.

Cylrit's tower shield of black metal still orbited my Scythe. I could sense flashes of him as it ever-so-slightly caught the light, but they were indistinct. Shadowed and unclear from my weakness.

I felt the temptation to pull on that abyss, to rotate it and show Arthur, Sylvie, and Tessia's souls. I could do it here and now. Perhaps I could gain more insight into what had led Arthur to... making himself King. I still didn't know how to process that. I didn't know if I could ever process that.

So instead, I just laid back in the gloomy shadows of my dusk-touched soul, my hair sinking into the blood below. I could feel the strands as memories and ideals grasped them like drowned sinners, pulling it—and me—deeper into their depths.

If I lay here too long, I thought staring blankly up at the empty darkness, I'll drown.

I brushed my hands across the bloody surface, like a child treading water or splashing in a shallow stream. I watched without much care as the waves rippled and changed, sensing the contents of each droplet of blood.

The soul was a strange, nebulous thing. Each drop of red that brushed across my palms told me a little bit more about myself. Here was an old memory, one that tied to a dozen others. Each splash of scarlet was another knot in an ever-expanding tapestry of my existence, somehow compressed into liquid form.

It was peaceful, in a way. Not the normal peace I experienced in this place. This was the peace of the calm before the storm. It was the sort of stillness that served as a prelude to a fight in a ring, or a duel for your life.