Discordant Note: Crescendo | TBATE

Chapter 307: Heavy is the Head

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Arthur Leywin

"Fate is an apathetic thing, Arthur-Grey."

The scent of salt filled my nose with longing. The kiss of a cool breeze brushed across my face with fingers that felt like the softest feather. It filled my lungs, scouring away the taste of copper and bitter defeat that wracked my body.

I wasn't in pain. Not anymore. No, I was strangely... content. Peaceful. I moved my arms, feeling the soft blades of grass beneath them. The scent of earthy soil mingled with that sea breeze, filling me with an impossible calm.

The grass felt so soft. So inviting. The sun smiled with light so warm I thought I could drift forever in the relaxation.

"How do you know?" I asked, my eyes still closed as I lay in the grass.

I could hear the rustle of the wind whistling comfortably through the trees. The lapping of water against a sandy shore. The cries of birds and... something else.

"Aurora Asclepius knew it. She who defied Fate, in a way, knows it best," that familiar voice came again. There was something soft and sad nestled in the cracks of that tone. "One need only look at this world."

I opened my eyes, wincing against the glare of the sun. Only a few clouds crisscrossed the sky, leaving an endless expanse of pale blue. I took a moment to just... stare, absorbing it all.

Then something dark crossed my vision, streaking with a flap of wings and glimmering obsidian scales. A massive dragon flew a bit further into the distance, twisting as it went.

I slowly pushed myself to my feet as the large dragon passed, a gale of wind blowing through the long grass. I was on some sort of bluff overlooking the sea, the sun slowly setting in the distance.

And standing there, lit by the setting sun, was Regis. His hands were locked behind his back, interlaced in a simple manner. His long, wheat-blonde hair flowed in the wind, accentuating the lithe lines of his body.

And instead of the dull armor of my previous life, he was adorned in plated scales of glimmering silver, each flowing gracefully as they embraced lines of dark obsidian-gold beneath.

He looked... Regal. Like a king overseeing his subjects, he stared out across the horizon.

I walked forward slowly, feeling the press of the grass beneath my feet. Yet as I approached the now-changed Regis, my eyes drifted up to the colossal dragon gallivanting high above. She bellowed to the sky, a triumphant, echoing thunder that made the soil beneath my boots tremble.

Then she dipped low, diving toward the water in a hairpin turn. Her wings pulled in, streamlining the muscle and power in her physique. And for the first time, I caught a glimpse of her back.

Two figures were there. A little girl with hair that bore the color of autumn leaves, as auburn as my mother's. Her eyes were a brilliant teal that sparkled with excitement as she squealed with delight, her hands thrown out to the side.

A younger boy with silverish hair, however, showed no such joy. His hands clenched into little fists around his sister's simple shirt, his eyes screwed tight. But as the wind rushed past him, tearing droplets of water from his eyes, he finally forced them open as he screamed.

They were as blue as the sea that was rushing for them all.

At the last moment, the majestic dragon of chiseled obsidian pulled upward, flaring her wings wide. The boy, who had been screaming in terrified contrast with his sister's cackles, finally managed to laugh, too, his cheeks flushed from adrenaline and trembling fear.