Today was the day, for better or worse, that Octavia pieced together how Dissonance was born. It didn't take Stradivaria's help. It didn't take the Muses' guidance. It didn't take Viola, or even Eleanor Vacanti. It was a string of events, based on too much experience, that led to puzzle pieces clicking into place at the worst of times.

She could partially owe her revelation to Ivy's rapid descent into violet Hell being externalized in turn. She'd seen a similar case exactly once prior, albeit on an extreme scale. The girl's surrender to internal indigo was accompanied by the birth of Dissonance itself, vile and billowing as it spouted forever from her fragile body.

Like a fountain, she served as a vessel, generating an abundance of agonizing fog that spread from her being. Gushing as they were, every cloud moved slowly. That, at least, was in sharp contrast to the rapid onslaught she'd observed with Selena. Ideally, Octavia would forget that observation altogether. Don't think about it.

It was a simple enough hypothesis. More bad memories, more Dissonance.

Good memories touched by poison and plagued by malice were an option. Memories inherently born of hatred and pain were feasible. All were a catalyst for agony, and all were bound to one person alone. Octavia had once opted to label Selena a "walking bad memory". Given the acolyte's past, she would surely always serve as the shining example of suffering. Whatever Ivy carried, if nothing else, spoke to tainted memories all her own.

It didn't explain why Dissonance didn't always come from those ruined within. As to where that division lay, Octavia didn't have as much time to contemplate as she would've liked. She had as much Dissonance to study as she could ever ask for. So, too, was it difficult to ignore the inferno.

The scorching heat that erupted around the two Maestros was instant, punctuated by screams of terror and cries of panic. It took a moment for Octavia to raise her head, rolling off of Harper's body and into the gravel. She feared standing, let alone moving, her heart threatening to burst as she struggled to reorient. It was Harper who acted without hesitation, pulling her to her feet and yanking her into his arms.

Locked in his iron grip with her face pressed against Harper's chest, Stradivaria dug into Octavia's shoulder. He was shaking, perhaps uncontrollably, as he cast wide eyes only forward. Their assailant was stationary.

Ivy didn't move, scream, or do anything that would speak to her Dissonant state. Her physical appearance and her blank, toxic stare served as the only tells. Surprisingly, she didn't so much as flinch beneath Holly's initial assault, by which the girl beat upon her sister relentlessly with two closed fists in panic. She stopped soon enough, stumbling into the cusp of the alleyway. With hands clasped over her mouth, what few cries of fear she could've emitted were stifled. She sank to the gravel with her back to the wall, trembling as she curled in on herself.

Restricted as she was in Harper's arms, Octavia could do little to move. Still, if the screaming in every direction was anything to go by, she grasped the severity of the situation quickly. The morning had blessed them with abundant lighting, contrasting starkly with the boiling darkness that so often plagued their lives. Dawn had left every child gathered in one place, caught in the midst of both flame and malice uncontrolled. It was too awful to look. She didn't have a choice.

"Harper," she began, casting her gaze upwards.

He was pale, his breathing ragged and eyes empty. "What do we do?"

"I don't know!" Octavia snapped. She was so, so sick of that question. "I…we can…fight the Dissonance, one of us, and the other one gets the kids out?"

"Gets them out of this?" he cried, gesturing with one arm to the raging flames surrounding them. With the wavering heat clouding their vision and the smoke--true smoke, born of flame--beginning to roll, they themselves were just as ensnared. "Octavia, I don't even know if we can get out of this!"

"Well, we have to at least try! I'll just…maybe I can make us a shield, or something? I've done that before!"

"A shield of light! You have light! I have fire! What the hell are we supposed to do with either of those right now? We can't even see the freakin' Dissonance!"

Granted, she'd never tested it against fire before. "I can disperse the smoke, maybe, and give us a path?"

"There's too much, your light won't last that long, and that doesn't deal with the fire!"

"Maybe you can make an updraft, somehow, if you angle your flames correctly?"

"I can't fight fire with more fire!"

"You can't just give up!" she snapped. "We have to try! We have to do something! What did I tell you about giving up?"

"Why did it have to be fire?" Harper cried frantically, gripping her shoulders.

She fell silent for a moment. The cacophony of crackling flames, screaming children, and screeching Dissonance fell to the background of his impossibly-loud breaths and perilously-quick heartbeat. His wide eyes met hers with agony.

"Why did it have to be fire?" he repeated, softer.

"Har…per?" she murmured, motionless as he held her in his grasp.

One deep breath turned into gasping, and his shoulders heaved in the slightest. Tears pooled in his eyes in excess. "Why does it always have to be fire? Why does God hate me so much? What sick force of fate in the universe had to make sure that this is what I got?"

Only when he released one of her shoulders, shaking Royal Orleans for punctuation, did she notice the pain of the instrument jutting into her previously. "This? After what I went through? It couldn't be wind, or ice, or anything else but freakin' fire? And now I'm about to lose everything, for the exact same reason, and I'm…I'm…"

His voice cracked, and his eyes gave way to bitter droplets of pain upon her dress. "I'm useless. Again."

Octavia held her breath, and not solely secondary to the strangling smoke closing in. She couldn't help the way she wrapped her hands so tightly around Stradivaria, apologizing mentally for her vicious grip. Her whole body shook. With what emotion, she was unsure.

"You are not useless," she spoke firmly, her own voice at risk of cracking. "You're not. This is my fault, they got in behind me. I-I don't even know where they got that much gasoline, but Harper, someone was trailing my footsteps. I have no idea for how long. I wasn't paying attention, and it was my fault, not yours! All of it!"

"None of this is your fault!" he cried, teary eyes wide with a different flavor of horror. "Don't say that!"

"Then you're not allowed to, either!" she snapped.

For a moment, Harper was silent, catching his breath as he smeared his tears against his palms. Octavia's eyes watered much the same. Once more, she couldn't pinpoint if the catalyst was smoke or sorrow.

"I didn't choose Stradivaria, just like you didn't choose Royal Orleans. Orleanna chose you, and that has to mean something. I know you and fire don't…go well together. It's cruel, and for that, I'm sorry. Still, what you and Orleanna have is different from everything else the world has ever hurt you with. That's your fire. No one can…take that from you."

Pain settled in beside the shimmer in his eyes, and his hurt was almost contagious. Harper let her speak. Octavia pulled Stradivaria close to her chest, the scroll of the violin just barely pressing against her heart.

"I won't let anyone take anything else from you," Octavia breathed, "no matter what I have to do."

Harper squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Whatever stray tears still pricked at the edges were stifled by a deep breath. When he met her gaze once more, suffering had given way to something else. Gently, one trembling hand found her shoulder. "I'll…do whatever I have to do, too. We'll do this together."

She gave him the most resolute nod she could muster. Regardless, it didn't change the situation. No matter how much composure she could offer up, it didn't quell the Dissonance steadily sprawling across the expanse of gravel. It didn't ease the sweat dripping down her cheeks, nor the searing heat of uncontrolled flames scorching the earth and air.

It was starting to hurt, and inhaling was becoming laborious. Every idea she'd concocted had been declined, and with fair enough rationale. Her eyes flickered to Stradivaria. She found nothing. Her eyes flickered to Royal Orleans. She found nothing. Her heart raced. She felt sick, and not from poor oxygen flow alone.

Panic was bubbling in her throat. There was a worst-case scenario option, by which she'd already entertained the same plan at Harper's house. Running, granted, would likely kill her. It would kill both of them. She was running out of options. Whatever radiant barrier she could craft would have to suffice, experimental as it was. It was all she could think of.

She turned to Harper, her pounding heartbeat overshadowing the sound of her scrambled thoughts. She didn't need to open her mouth to offer up the gamble--for as commonplace as betting their lives had become recently. Simply thinking it was already enough to leave her kicking herself over pushing him this far. It took conscious effort for her to swallow whatever half-hearted apologies rushed to her lips first.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

Her words never made it to Harper, anyway. Her words never made it out of her mouth at all. Neither the Dissonance, nor the roaring inferno, blocked them out. In lieu of a louder sound, it was one singular snowflake alone that brought every thought screeching to a halt.

Octavia thought it was a mirage, at first, a singular and beautiful sight born of anxiety. Almost immediately, there were more. The flurries that followed somehow outdid the fires that threatened their lives. Unrelenting and fearless, they drifted onwards, their refreshing chill skirting past Octavia's cheeks. The flickering frost traded innocence for quantity.

Its ranks doubled, tripled, grew larger still. The whoosh accompanying the weaving stream of snowflakes encircling the two Maestros was audible. Every last one sparkled brilliantly in the face of the fearsome flames looming high. So, too, did their flight strengthen rapidly, fragile snow snagging on something far sharper than a breeze.

Harper's eyes touched upon each snowflake in turn, baffling as they were. "What are--"

Octavia didn't let him finish. With Stradivaria still squeezed tightly against her chest, she threw herself against the Maestro. It was all she could do to flatten her body against his as the chilling vortex embraced them in full. The speed was relentless, by which her braids whipped against her face almost painfully.

She slammed her eyes shut in a desperate effort to dodge the blasting cold, stinging whatever skin failed to escape the frozen aura. The feeling of Harper's arms wrapping around her in turn, his head low to her shoulder as he stiffened, led her to believe he felt much of the same. Versus ruthless flames, the sensation wasn't wholly uncomfortable.

As quickly as their localized storm had come, it dissipated just as fast. She hardly registered the absence of gushing winds in her ears. When next she blinked, uncurling herself from Harper, the same bitter chill was absent. With hesitation, she turned her head. On closer inspection, the flames that had licked at the searing air and fought to choke her out were further than she remembered. She could move. She could breathe, and the nearest steps she could take would no longer burn. The lingering breeze that still teased her hair was still tinged with the slightest icy flavor.

It was not a circle alone that was spared of fiery wrath. The line of peaceful, flameless freedom that had been cut clean ahead was nearly straight. When Octavia chased it far with her eyes, it was Viola's visage that she wished more than anything to chase instead.

So, too, came Madrigal's. Renato's. Josiah's, even.

"Viola!" Octavia cried, her voice nearly cracking with relief alone.

Part of her didn't want the girl anywhere near this Hell. Part of her wanted to collapse beneath the sudden alleviation of stress. At her side, the look on Harper's face spoke to a similar sentiment. In no way could she blame him.

If the Maestra had heard her desperate cries, she made no indication. Silver Brevada stayed glued to her lips as she pressed forward, lurching dangerously close to the flames without hesitation. That, by comparison, was enough to annihilate Octavia's relief. She wanted to scream, to beg for the girl's retreat from scathing orange and sickening violet alike.

Even so, Madrigal following in Soulful footsteps eased her heart in the slightest. They cast their unified song well above the roaring crackle of the inferno, the painful screeching of the Dissonance, and the frantic cries of children yet unseen. The sound of a flute and harp in tandem was one of the most beautiful Octavia had ever heard.

Madrigal matched each and every movement Viola made--whether with her lips, hands, or her body itself. Gravel crunched lightly beneath her sandals with each and every measured step. Her fingers flew along the strings of Lyra's Repose, and her song wove the most spectacular of gusts.

The Spirited tempest hugged Viola's every angle, the Maestra's own shrill notes and trilling melodies spawning spearing shards of hail and sleet. With swift strums and sharp eyes, a vicious gale hurried precious frosts along. Upon every strip of fire came a shower of cold, conquering the untamed heat of the blaze.

They fizzled, surrendering, even emboldened by the gasoline ocean below. Octavia relaxed muscles she didn't realize were tense, watching in awe as the two Maestras gradually beat back plume after plume of flame. For how vast the inferno truly was, they had their work cut out for them. Still, the fruits of their labor were more than visible. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Madrigal, somewhere in the midst of her stormy song, still managed to flash Octavia a brilliant smile. "Sorry we're late!"

"What the hell happened?" Josiah shouted.

Renato whistled dramatically, settling his hands onto his hips. "Can't say this is the best first impression of this place. We go through all the trouble of finding it, and this is what we get?"

Harper could only stare at the boy, momentarily lost for words. "I…how did you…"

"We didn't," Josiah answered. "He did."

One Maestro outdid the shock of snowflakes and gales. One Maestro outdid the strength of sound and the newborn essence of lightning. Curly hair and bare feet challenged a raging fire with equal will. His steps were undaunted by the heated gravel below, nor by the slick substance that threatened his skin. By comparison, the eyes that met Harper's were plagued with something beyond the defensiveness Octavia knew. She'd never seen them that soft. He tensed, fists clenched at his sides.

Harper's eyes narrowed. Octavia's stomach churned.

"You knew," Harper said.

He didn't need to shout from afar. Of his own accord, Domino approached, his light footsteps in stark contrast to the noisy world around him. Octavia held her breath. Harper held his ground.

"I-I…yeah," Domino stammered.

"And you still stuck around them."

"Harper, listen," he began.

"The kids are in danger because of them."

"Harper, please."

"You were--are--in danger because of them."

"Harper, listen to me, alright?" Domino begged, his face contorting with pain.

"And still, even knowing that, you--"

"Harper, please, just listen!"

"Look at me."

Harper's words were sharp. They were bitter, pointed, three firm words snapped in a way that gave Octavia chills. Domino didn't dare do anything but.

"Harper," he said, his gaze momentarily drifting downwards, "I'm sorry."

"Shut up and look me in the eyes. Now."

His words were too sharp, really. The unbroken concentration on his face was unidentifiable. Octavia had never seen razors so deadly in his gaze before. She wanted to blame it on rage, and he would've been justified. Even so, she'd seen his anger. This wasn't like him. It was all she could do to watch.

Abnormal or not, it hardly mattered. Domino's eyes quickly snapped upwards to Harper's own, terrified in their own right. He fell silent, his apologies lost.

"Are you serious about protecting these kids?" Harper asked, his steady voice betraying the unsettling look on his face.

It took Domino a moment to find words at all. Eventually, they came with a single, resounding nod, his curls bobbing up and down gently. "Yeah."

Harper didn't dignify his humbled answer with a response of his own. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. One hand delved into the pocket of his trousers. When he withdrew his fingers, they came with a metallic rectangle. Sparkling relentlessly as it was, the violent flames on every side did an instrument just as aflame beautiful justice.

The knot in Octavia's stomach was surely permanent, at this point. She watched Harper loft it high, a singular and precise throw sending Broken Bliss sailing into the air. Domino stumbled to make the catch in both palms, his eyes equally as wide as Octavia's own.

"Are you sure?" she murmured. "You don't think he could be with them?"

"He's telling the truth," Harper said plainly.

Octavia tilted her head in the slightest. "How do you…know?"

He paused. "I know."

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Given the circumstances, Renato had more enthusiasm than was necessary. That wasn't new. He more or less jogged to Domino's side, taking every bit of excitement along with him. For Harper's sake, Octavia liked to imagine the prior conversation had been at least somewhat private.

Domino eyed the Maestro up and down. "Who the hell are you?"

Renato waved, bending down just enough that the gesture was mildly condescending. "I'm best friends with the flute girl--the one you brought here, remember? She and I go waaaay back. Come on, let's get you some on-the-job training."

When Renato suddenly threw his arm around the boy's shoulders, Domino recoiled. It took effort to wriggle out of his grasp. "What 'training'? And don't touch me!"

One cherry oak hand was back on his hip. Renato raised a pointed finger above the flames, speared outwards towards the rolling clouds of deep violet. Fixated on the fire as she'd been, Octavia had nearly forgotten about the other equally-severe problem the situation came with.

"Scary purple stuff. Really nasty. You don't wanna get tangled up with it," he explained casually.

Domino followed the path of his gesture, his eyes wide with shock upon his first glance at pain incarnate. Words escaped him. "What…"

"That puts you on clean-up patrol, new guy. Let's go," Renato ordered, his arm once again back around Domino's shoulders.

Domino stiffened in terror. "Wait, what? Are you saying I have to fight that thing? That?"

Renato shrugged. "I mean, obviously."

Apparently, Renato's size and strength outdid Domino's by a longshot. There was little the smaller Maestro could do to avoid being dragged clean across the clearing. Any resistance he could offer was more so verbal than physical.

"What makes you think I'm gonna listen to you?" he spat.

Even with his back turned and his pace quick, Octavia could practically hear the devilish grin dripping from Renato's sly voice. "Oh, you're sassy. I like you."

"I'll do this myself! Get off me!"

"Alright, then, what's that thing in your hands called?"

She watched the way Domino's head flopped downwards briefly, two hands cupping Broken Bliss in his upturned palms. "A harmonica, idiot."

"Wrong! Try again," Renato teased, absolutely oozing satisfaction.

"B-Broken Bliss?" Domino stammered uncomfortably.

"Wroooong," he sing-songed. "If you don't even know what a Harmonial Instrument is, we've got a lot of work to do. That means you have to listen to me, don't you know?"

"They're getting to the far side of the camp," Josiah called to the playful Maestro. "I'm gonna start trying to get the kids out. Make sure they're okay and all that."

"Hey, man, don't forget to use what you've got, okay? You're one of us now. Don't be runnin' around like you usually do. I'm gonna train you up real good, too," Renato called back.

Octavia didn't need to see Josiah roll his eyes. She could hear it in his voice, just the same. "You are the last person on this earth I'm taking orders from."

"Hey, Renato?" Harper finally shouted, his tone touched by hesitation.

He didn't turn around, one hand still strongly occupied with a struggling Domino. Instead, he raised his free hand aloft, high above his head in a gesture of acknowledgement. "We've got the yucky stuff, don't sweat it!"

The arrival of support had been so rapid that Octavia hardly had time to process the shifting situation, let alone soak in the atmosphere. What had been a one-sided Hell quickly evolved into a war. Two Maestras drove a deep offensive into the heart of a raging inferno, while three more--two of whom, granted, were extremely new to their roles--followed in their wake.

The flames that engulfed the camp were still widespread and prominent. Regardless, she was confident that they were dwindling, notably lessened compared to their all-consuming grasp mere moments ago. It wouldn't be long before the Dissonance would be assailed by flames of another will entirely.

Octavia couldn't see the children. Should their little faces come into view, they would be a magnet for Harper's desperate and reflexive attention. Even so, she trusted the others. She trusted him to trust them, in turn. She trusted whatever god she could pray to that they hadn't been too late, and she still prayed for the same.

That left one singular obstacle, unmoving and unflinching.

Harper tightened his grip around Royal Orleans. "Should we--"

"Ivy," Octavia said.

"Yeah."

"Leave the rest to them. We'll deal with her," Octavia continued.

He nodded. "I'll follow your lead."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.