Discordant Note: Crescendo | TBATE

Chapter 305: Thundercrack

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Tessia Eralith

One of the things that Grandpa had always told me ever since I'd been young was that I could never count on a plan.

The image of him from years back—when he didn't have so many stress-carved wrinkles across his face and trenches of corruption turning his veins black—surfaced in my mind. I could see him crouching in front of me as I complained about how Arthur always managed to do better than me in sparring. On that particular day, I'd thrown my usual tantrum, and I'd been pouting in a corner of Elenoir's palace.

When Grandpa had found me, his eyes had melted in the way they always did whenever he saw me. I'd lamented that day, furious and angry that Arthur had managed to beat me again. I'd been training and trying so hard. I couldn't understand why he was just better.

In his caring, grandfatherly way, Grandpa had explained to me something simple. "Art plans ahead, my little rascal," he'd said. "To a terrifying degree, mind you. Don't try and think like that little monster. It's enough to drive me crazy sometimes, those battle instincts of his."

"But I plan, too!" I'd complained. "I wanted to attack his shins, then break his stance! But that didn't work!"

Grandpa had only chuckled, his wizened hand ruffling my silver hair. "And once Arthur realized that, he adapted. Remember, little one: no plan survives contact with an opponent."

Plan plan plan, Willow whispered, coiled in my core as I kept my Second Phase engaged, survive.

When the thunder crashed again, the rain clinging to my face, I resisted the urge to curse. It was a comfort that I'd reached Art's parents in time, and that they were safely in the clutches of my vines. But as I hauled them through the shattered halls of Xyrus Academy—once so familiar to me—I knew it was a shallow relief.

No plan survived contact with the enemy. Not even the one I'd concocted with Arthur.

Art was currently enacting the side of the plan that would see Scythe Nico dealt with. I knew he would succeed, even if meeting his old friend would be a struggle. He had to succeed, to ensure that the Legacy would never descend.

But I had already failed. That plan had not survived contact with the enemy.

Arthur and I had both suspected Bairon Wykes of being a traitor to Dicathen. That was why he was positioned on the westernmost battlefield alongside Mica Earthborn, the furthest from the truly critical fronts. It was also why I had lain in wait, ready to drive my swordstaff through the arrogant Wykes' chest if he did something unwise.

The arrival of the red-haired Retainer had thrown everything into disarray. Bairon had met her secretly, holding one of those tempus warps. I'd realized then and there that I wouldn't get a better chance to put the traitor down. As Mica and Olfred had their clash in the background, I'd made to finish this.

Except I'd failed in the killshot. Bairon was too fast, and he'd managed to get through a summoned portal before I could drive my weapon through his core.

And when I'd realized I was in Xyrus, where Art's parents were, I'd left the last and most powerful Seed I had in reserve, leaving it to keep Bairon and that Retainer busy.

The Seeds were something new I'd discovered the ability to create in the wake of my ascension to Lance. With guiding help from Willow, I could separate a sliver of her essence into a corded bundle of nature magic. As I'd trained with Aya in the depths of Elshire, I'd gradually imbued these slivers with more and more energy, nurturing them as one did a flower with sunlight and water.