Harmony

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.

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.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Leave the rest to them. We’ll deal with her,” Octavia continued.

“I’ll follow your lead.”

The exchange was the most she was willing to offer. She traded words for action, clutching Stradivaria as she sprinted through whatever flameless paths met her first. It only took mild effort to hunt for cool footing and safe ground upon which to tread. She was lucky Madrigal and Viola had delved as far as they had, offering a silent prayer for a passage devoid of deadly flames. Still, balancing quick glances at her feet and keeping her eyes forward was a challenge.

Her one saving grace was Harper’s deliverance on his words, by which he followed her lead effortlessly. She needn’t have worried about leaving him behind. He sprinted behind her, so near that she could practically feel him catching her tailwind. It spared her the burden of looking back. She trusted his stamina.

Ivy was motionless, as she’d been all along. Dissonance poured from her body still, erupting in endless plumes from her small shoulders. For all intents and purposes, her soul may as well have been fleeing from her skin. Glazed and hazy eyes hardly processed the scene. If they did, there was little sympathy to be had for the destruction she’d unleashed.

The sight of the girl’s empty expression alone gave Octavia chills, marred by venom as it was. Even now, she wondered what memories were in there. They were out here, now, hatred and pain oozing into the open air. That was all that mattered at the moment.

Holly sobbed, trembling on the ground as she pressed herself flat against the alley wall. Even partially obscured in the shadows, her bitter tears were plain to see. She didn’t run, nor did she fight back. With certainty, she would never forget what she witnessed today. Octavia doubted she’d forget what she was about to see, too. She gave a silent apology.

“I’ll go left, you go right!” Octavia cried.

“Got it!”

Her unspoken assumption had been correct. With an approaching threat, Ivy didn’t stay still for long. In motion, at least, the billowing Dissonance born of her body slowed. A dripping trickle took the place of a gushing wave. Grotesque, debilitating violet instead clung to the girl, plaguing her very skin in the most toxic of veils. Her eyes narrowed. The emotion behind them was irrelevant.

Her outfit served as no deterrent for her movement, simple flats doing nothing to slow her rapid steps as she lunged. She wasn’t even slightly as fast as a fallen Selena. Still, her sudden increased velocity was concerning. It was an abnormal speed for a girl of her size and build. Octavia made her millionth mental note.

Ivy plunged one hand into the pocket of her skirt. It took a moment for Octavia to identify the switchblade. Relative to how quickly slender fingers found their positioning, she doubted Ivy was clueless as to what to do with it. Octavia resisted the urge to flinch.

It didn’t matter. Resistance was expected. Still, she had to consciously shelve whatever sparking connections were growing between Dissonant people and knives. Octavia gritted her teeth, raising Stradivaria to her shoulder as she slowly drifted to the left. That, too, hardly mattered. Apparently, she wasn’t Ivy’s target at all.

“Hit her from the side! I’ll get in close!” Harper shouted.

He never slowed for a moment, setting a full collision course with the Dissonant girl. The moment Octavia saw him lower Royal Orleans, she wondered if he was going insane. She almost asked him.

“Be careful!” Octavia cried instead.

Her fingers moved on instinct. She hadn’t even realized she was playing, her sleek notes eluding her own ears. It was the radiant heat around her face that gave her notice, her skin echoing much of the same as her blood pulsed and burned. She embraced the sensation, content to arm herself ever more with a galaxy of vicious light. Wispy, scathing stars ambled above her head, their trailing tails dangerously hot as they grazed her hair. She became the sun of her own solar system, hot and brilliant with the light of the world at her fingers. Even her leveled breaths, she was convinced, were equally ablaze.

It was the most light she could safely maintain at once, distributing her movements evenly along the violin’s strings. She wasn’t used to clinging to it for so long, and her concentration was threatened somewhat by her concern for Harper. She trailed him with her eyes, studying his every step for whatever openings she could seize.

Stopping Ivy wasn’t the hard part at all. Saving her life, if that was the objective, was.

Harper took Royal Orleans in both hands as he drew inches from Ivy’s face. He left his flames by the wayside entirely, nearly propelling himself off the ground as he came down hard with the instrument above her. Octavia winced at the sight of Orleanna’s body weaponized, shining brass crashing down on a human being.

For that, a tiny, regretful part of her was thankful when Ivy raised one arm in a futile attempt to block. The flat end of her switchblade just barely caught the bottom valves in the process. She stumbled. Harper didn’t. His brutal new style of wielding his Harmonial Instrument was far from shelved, and he speared the trumpet into her stomach. His foot followed suit.

It was the Domino situation all over again, albeit with much higher stakes. Harper beat upon Ivy, blow after blow, with his bare hands. He twisted his body with just as much finesse as he had yesterday, slamming the flat end of his shoe directly into her side. With his right hand empty, a newborn fist burrowed into Ivy’s cheek with such force that Octavia could hear it from afar.

She was, at least, cognizant of the way Harper staggered backwards with each kick, shifting one ankle awkwardly. She hadn’t forgotten about the burn. The lack of sleep, recovering injuries, and switchblade inches from his face didn’t help. For lack of better words, he was playing with fire right now.

The blade in question was brushing a bit too close to him for comfort. Ivy didn’t tolerate his assault. She, too, fought back, her attempts to block startlingly more accurate when unmarred by surprise. She stabbed and slashed, often colliding with the ringing brass of Royal Orleans. Every clang of the blade against the makeshift shield of Orleanna’s body was, too, audible from afar.

Harper’s punches and kicks were gradually growing less heavy, and Ivy in turn was adapting at an alarming rate. To his credit, Harper dodged as many of her stunningly-precise swings and slashes as he could. Still, the way by which the tip occasionally snagged the fabric of his sleeves or brushed against his bangs was sickeningly worrying.

Octavia was done waiting. She inhaled deeply before slashing the bow across the strings. Her fingertips touched upon each fret, and her light was finally granted permission to fly. The drifting radiance that had encircled her so dearly stretched and sharpened into the blinding, spearing rays she’d grown so fond of. In careful tandem, she enlisted their aid, setting them free with great force as they sped relentlessly towards Ivy and Harper. She tilted her head, her face pressed painfully hard against Stradivaria’s body as she began to sweat.

Of the five she’d chosen to offer up, aiming would leave her threading a needle. She knew he knew, for how his eyes had caught hers at least once. Apparently, he didn’t care. Harper’s reluctance to retreat, by which he only took three steps backwards, was simultaneously flattering and ignorant. His trust was, in and of itself, dangerous--particularly given that she wasn’t sure where she should be aiming. If his hesitation to use Royal Orleans properly was any indication, hurting Ivy was a concern. Octavia chose the gravel.

In a uniform volley, each ray met its ambiguous mark. All five crashed hard into the ground, bursting into luminous golds that left Harper shielding his eyes. Divided between Harper and Ivy, the impact was enough to startle the Dissonant girl. She recoiled, her own arms raised to futilely impede the brilliant light. Octavia wouldn’t give her the chance to recover. With her residual light in tow, outburning the sun on every side, she, too, closed the gap.

She aimed again. This time, she opted against the ground. Pulling this off while leaving Ivy utterly unscathed was next to impossible. She’d do what she could to mitigate the damage. Two pulsating stars, morphed with more unforgiving, wavering notes, were made malleable by her song. Once more, they were transfigured and reborn, bent into the same white-hot beams yet again.

Octavia cocked them like the brilliant arrows they were, jerking her bow back against the strings. She sent them sailing, offering another silent apology as she hit her mark. Ivy’s feet fell victim to the sting of her light, and the girl screamed in pain as she stumbled backwards. Stifling her luminous prowess had been a futile effort, apparently.

“Leave her alone! Don’t hurt her!” Holly cried, her voice wobbling.

“Trust us!” Harper called back. Never once did he tear his eyes from the Dissonant girl. Given who he was talking to, Octavia wondered if he could hear himself right now.

“I’m gonna pin her down,” Octavia said, willing her voice to remain steady. Part of her still hadn’t fully grown accustomed to her light hurting innocent people--Dissonant or not. She tried not to dwell on it. “Don’t let up.”

Harper nodded. “Got it.”

Ivy recovered quickly, pained or not. She found her footing and her stance in turn, hostile eyes already locked onto Harper once more. Octavia nearly missed her chance to impede the girl’s movement, rushing to fire off yet more scorching brilliance in place of stolen steps. She aimed for Ivy’s kneecaps this time, and she found them without difficulty.

The sound of her agony was substantially sharper, particularly relative to the blistering that settled in almost immediately. By comparison, that was difficult to ignore. This time, unshielded by any clothed protection, Ivy did scrape the ground when she stumbled. Burnt skin digging deep into the gravel only doubled her distress, and she cried out.

Harper had little empathy. The opportunity was there, and he seized it. With a cry of effort, he twisted his entire body, bringing his foot crashing hard across Ivy’s face as she fell. The force of the impact nearly sent her flying, her limp body tumbling in mid-air before she careened to the gravel. She, too, cried out in pain yet again, outright clawing at the ground as she growled. The injuries to her knees were enough. Octavia watched as the girl struggled to push herself to her feet, arms and legs trembling all the while. This was probably the most she could do without causing serious harm. She went with it.

Whatever light she’d had left over went upwards instead. Sailing high into the hazy sky, every vivid note from careful fingers sent radiant spears raining to the earth. They outdid her brilliant arrows in thickness and sheen, glowing almost intolerably as they stretched in turn. Each luminous pillar punched deep into the gravel, encircling the Dissonant girl in a blinding prison.

Unrelenting heat and burning radiance caged her without reprieve. Ivy squeezed her eyes shut. A biting blade had long since surrendered to distant gravel, languishing beyond her brilliant enclosure. Desperate hands clawed at her scalp, her fingernails digging sharply into fraying hair. The oppressive heat alone should’ve been paralyzing, if the luminosity didn’t stun her in full. Octavia still felt bad about it.

“Octavia,” Harper began.

Her concentration with multitasking took priority over acknowledging his words, as rude as she knew it to be. She’d already confirmed her ability to balance multiple applications of her light. It took effort to steady her heart and song with conscious care, granted. By comparison, she hadn’t confirmed her ability to offer up her light and purify all at once. She still hadn’t confirmed that she could do the latter at all. Even now, with Stradivaria upon her shoulder and Ivy awaiting her radiant salvation, Octavia hesitated. Her fingers trembled. The rest of her followed soon after.

Once upon a time, her inexperience had led to two precious lives lost too soon. Yet another, her perversion of an act meant to heal had reduced a sinner’s soul to ash. Twice, she’d done a disservice to Stradivaria’s light. For the sake of a girl who’d seen such suffering, she couldn’t afford to fail a third time. She was well aware. Even so, Octavia was more than conscious of the way her breath fled her throat with every desperate gasp. Her hands had surpassed trembling, shaking violently as she struggled to consider the deed alone.

She couldn’t fail. She couldn’t fail. She couldn’t fail again.

No amount of internal repetition was erasing the visages of two forsaken girls who’d torn each other to pieces. It wasn’t removing the face of the man who’d razed her heart to its core. She could still remember the exact manner by which her hands had burned, the exceedingly specific radiance that had coursed through her blood and spilled onto the strings. It was unique. It was tailored, special in the sickest way. It came with sights. It came with sounds, scents, experiences that dragged her soul to dark places. She couldn’t breathe.

She would fail.

Should she still try?

As Ivy was now, would it not be better to grant her a swift death?

She was going to fail.

She was going to fail.

She was going to fail.

Ivy was going to die.

“Octavia.”

It took her a moment to even register Harper’s voice, let alone recall his existence. He’d traded parallel companionship for a blocked path, severing her line of sight with Ivy. With his back to her eyes, he barred her way, unmoving. He spoke nothing more, content only with her name on his lips.

“H-Harper?” she tried, cognizant of the way her voice trembled with every word.

No amount of mental scolding was enough to stem the shaking, radiating through her blood until every inch of her vibrated in fear. It took all she had to cast her eyes onto his back instead.

“Let me do it.”

Octavia’s eyes widened, her heart sinking into her stomach. She’d already felt sick, and her nausea worsened twofold. It left her clutching at Stradivaria’s body in a panic as she struggled to maintain what was left of her song. “What?”

“I want to…be the one to do it,” he said. Even now, with his attention offered to the Dissonant girl alone, she could see Royal Orleans rising to his face.

“Harper!” she cried. For what, she wasn’t sure. “You…you don’t--”

With the mouthpiece inches from his lips, he hesitated. Instead, he turned his head, and she caught a hint of the softest smile cast over his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to make the good decisions,” he said gently. “My job is to look cool in front of you.”

She found no words to gift him in response. In their place, she stole what warmth she could find in his voice. It was all that battled her tremors, racing thoughts be damned. She could do nothing but stare, holding her breath as he hunted for his.

“All I need to hear is that you think I can do it, okay?”

Octavia found her voice, feeble as it was. “I…you can do it. You can do this.”

His gaze wasn't meant for her, locked onto Ivy instead. Once again, Royal Orleans brushed against his lips.

“Orleanna,” he spoke, firm and confident as she’d learned him to be.

I hear your words.

The Muse’s own weren’t meant for her. Octavia couldn’t help it.

“Show me what the hell I’m doing!”

It will be done.

When he finally exhaled, raised brass valiantly capturing the sunlight of morning, the differences were striking. Harper’s song was not his own, vastly unlike anything Octavia had ever heard from the instrument. Vibrant and powerful, the ballad he wove resonated through her skin in a way that warmed her inside. Far, far more notable was the rich shift in color upon every ember, sparking into wild flames in their own right. Of all things, they were blue.

The mesmerizing fires that erupted from the bell came splashed with a stark, incredible sapphire, stealing every ounce of oxygen in the air. Octavia had never once seen blue fire in her life--born of a Maestro’s song or otherwise. Every steady movement of Harper’s fingers against the keys breathed life into a spiraling trail of vividly azure flames. Much like her own light, it called him home, encircling him in full with great precision and balance.

Octavia watched the way he spread his feet apart, tilting his head slightly higher. With forceful notes of a scorching song, his carefully-crafted cerulean blaze escaped him. Instead, its flight was rapid, barreling forward at speeds that Octavia struggled to follow. Without mercy, Ivy fell into its path.

His beautiful inferno left speckled embers behind, audibly crackling as it bore down on the Dissonant girl. With incredible care, the rushing flames wove between the pillars of Octavia’s radiant prison. The resulting display as they hugged the circumference of the trap was almost beautiful, wavering cyans and sapphires entangling with blinding golds. The thought of the scorching heat that surrounded Ivy at every conceivable angle was the one downside that threatened Octavia’s satisfaction. The manner by which the girl was, again, scraping her fingernails against her own scalp was supporting the theory of discomfort splendidly.

Harper found his opportunity in the split second Ivy fought to breathe. Where she searched for oxygen, she would find nothing--and, Octavia prayed, no pain in its place. To swallow wind was one thing. To be besieged from the inside out by light was a question of incredible risk. There was no uncertainty to be had with the concept of fire licking at a human soul.

She’d promised that she believed in him. It was all she could do, yet again, to pray.

The spinning flames were unfathomably fast, diving deep past Ivy’s lips and writhing down into her body. They burned with such vivid luminosity that Octavia could physically see the royal blues glowing through her chest. In stark contrast with the thin veil of putrid violet clinging to her skin, this, too, was somewhat lovely in its own horrifying way.

There Ivy remained, fire swirling down her throat as she was bound to the gravel below. She resisted, scratching desperately at her own neck and clutching at her chest. No amount of shaking her head or battling to pull away was enough to deter Harper’s flames. To his immense credit, they remained steadfast and fueled.

Whatever was going on mentally was between him and Orleanna. It took conscious effort for Octavia to tune out that interaction. She couldn’t ignore the way his hands trembled violently with effort, nor how he’d been forced to brace harder against the ground. She assumed he’d reached the difficult part.

“You can do it, Harper,” Octavia whispered to herself alone.

Harper’s notes rose ever higher. With the slightest turn of his body, she could see his reddened cheeks and the sweat dripping in earnest down his face. He played with everything he had, the flames inside of Ivy glimmering brilliantly as she squirmed against their assault. Octavia nearly forgot to continue her own song, and what little light she contributed was threatened by her wandering eyes. Drowned out by the volume of his desperate melody, it hardly mattered. She, too, was desperate. Her heart threatened to explode, and she filled it with faith instead.

And when the flames burst, at last, they birthed a spectacular display of cerulean and poisoned indigo. From beyond Ivy’s lips erupted a plume of smoky violet, tinted by fantastic blues that incinerated the smog to a crisp. For what seemed like far too long, Ivy’s mouth remained parted, her small body betraying the brutal volume of evacuating Dissonance.

Up and into the hazy sky above came thick, unforgiving clouds of purple that danced with the conquering fires. Ivy nearly collapsed, heaving silently and uselessly as tears streamed in excess down her cheeks. Even doubled over, hands wrapped around her stomach, each cough only served to expel more of the same.

A rough estimate led Octavia to guess approximately one minute’s worth of Dissonance. It was continuous, escaping the girl before succumbing in full to raging flames high aloft. Ivy, at last, did crumple to the ground, her scorched knees failing as she collapsed onto her side. Tiny, shallow breaths were Octavia’s only indicator that she'd survived the ordeal. Only now did she release the breath she’d been holding all along.

Harper, too, fought for his own breath, tearing Royal Orleans from his lips with a gasp. He panted heavily, his entire body shaking as he staggered backwards. Several steps were too many, and he doubled over. Octavia ceased her song instantly, the fizzling radiance of her luminous prison utterly unimportant. She nearly dropped Stradivaria with how quickly she rushed to Harper, poised to catch him if he stumbled in full.

To her surprise, he didn’t. With one hand on his knee and the other still choking Royal Orleans, he hunted for his breath forever. Somehow, even now, he squeezed out words in between his desperate pleas for air.

“Did you…watch me?”

Octavia forewent a response, embracing him as she nestled her face into his shoulder. “Yeah. You were amazing.”

Flames still lingered and scorched around them. Residual Dissonance still screeched and writhed in the vicinity. Chaos still reigned, audible on every side. For a moment, it didn’t matter. It was one victory, and Octavia indulged in it with her entire heart. Octavia turned her head slightly against Harper’s shoulder, casting her peripheral gaze towards Ivy’s motionless body in the gravel.

Holly had found her way to her sister’s side, looming over the girl as she continued to sob. Time and time again, Ivy’s name rolled off her despairing tongue. Her eyes briefly flickered to Octavia’s before finding Harper’s, somewhere between infuriated and sorrowful.

“You--”

“She’ll be okay,” Harper offered, his breaths slowly steadying. “I promise.”

Holly didn’t argue, tears quietly slipping down her cheeks in place of hostile words.

Octavia released Harper, straightening up as she pulled Stradivaria into her arms. It took time to find the drive to scan the camp with her eyes. It took additional time to recognize the way by which she could do so at all, blessed with sweet clarity in place of obscure gray.

Minutes ago, there had been little in the tent-speckled home aside from smoke, flame, and hatred. From here, she could see the silhouettes of the Maestros, still fighting for the salvation of tiny lives that needed them most. A song equal parts Soulful and Spirited was forever beautiful, distant as it conquered the last bastions of flame.

That left two newly-blessed Maestros and one questionable mentor. Collectively, they were loud. From here, Octavia was torn between appreciating their charisma and wishing that they would stop talking.

“You gotta hit it harder than that! And look happy about it, while you’re at it!”

“What the hell is there to be happy about with any of this?” she could hear Domino growl.

“I mean, a little smile or two never hurt anybody! Makes other people feel more confident in you, y’know? If someone else sees you smilin’ while you beat the crap out of this stuff, you’re gonna look way cooler!”

“I’m not trying to look cool, you idiot, I’m trying to keep everyone safe! How the hell did you even become a Maestro like this?”

Renato shrugged. “Charming, good looks, what else could I need? Keep your eyes on your right!”

Domino groaned, Broken Bliss rising to his lips as he eyed the wispy violet approaching his ankles. “Do you ever shut up?”

“How you doin’ over there, Josiah?” Renato called instead, his words carried on the wind to a face unseen.

It took Octavia a minute to chase down the boy in question with her eyes. She finally settled on a tent she’d noticed hours prior, stained by gasoline as it was at the time. Beyond it, Josiah thrust one hand past the canvas flaps.

“You’re okay. It’s safe, come on,” he offered softly.

His hand quickly filled with one far smaller. Octavia had been correct about the tent’s owner, and she watched as wobbling steps left Louise almost stumbling into the boy’s arms. She trembled, her glasses lopsided and her hair frazzled. Splotchy cheeks spoke to prior tears, and she swiped at what was left as she clung to Josiah. He smiled.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. With a gentle touch, Josiah guided her out from the tent in full. “I’m glad,” he said.

“Dude, pay attention!”

In Josiah’s defense, it would’ve been extremely difficult to see the Dissonance cresting over the height of the tent. The sweeping fog that descended upon them rose high above his head, and his eyes would’ve caught it far too late. Octavia raced to raise Stradivaria to her shoulder. It never made it there, and panic left her outright fumbling the bow as it fell to the gravel below. Ultimately, Josiah didn’t need her help--nor Renato’s, nor Domino’s. He released Louise’s hand, and that which he held in the other sufficed for salvation.

Octavia kept needing conscious reminders of the boy’s newfound bond with Etherion. The sleek rosewood in his grasp hummed and crackled with every breath, his motions somewhat more skillful than she would’ve expected of a novice. She still wasn’t certain if the lightning bolts were a personal preference or a mandatory manifestation. Either way, they were absurdly loud and ridiculously jarring each time they struck.

When the Dissonance splintered and writhed beneath his assault, she jumped in surprise. She felt bad for Louise. At a much closer proximity, the child outright screamed in terror, casting her palms over her ears as she nearly dropped to the ground.

“I’ve got it,” Josiah called back to Renato. “I can take care of myself, I promise.”

“You scare me sometimes,” he answered uncomfortably.

Renato didn’t have his attention for long. Louise’s whimpering was enough to steal it back, and Josiah lowered himself to the girl’s level. One hand settled delicately atop her head as she cowered, his voice softening yet again.

“I’m sorry. Did I startle you?”

She blinked, her eyes filled with fear. “What…was that thing?”

He paused. “What thing?”

Louise raised a quivering finger towards the roof of the tent, once home to a haze of violet. “The smoke.”

Only now did Josiah’s eyes widen. “You can see it?”

Even from afar, Octavia had heard the same, and her reaction was nearly identical. She’d misheard, maybe. That wasn’t right.

She threw her eyes back to the boy beside her at last. “Harper--”

“There’s something I need to know.”

His words, let alone his focus, didn’t belong to her. He glared at Holly, who had since risen to her feet with her sister’s arm around her shoulder. Ivy, in turn, had found her footing, along with her consciousness and breath. Ragged and unstable as it was, she was still standing in some capacity. Weary eyes just barely summoned the strength to acknowledge Harper at all. Whether or not she was in any condition to speak was debatable. Whether or not she could understand Harper’s words was just as much of a mystery.

“If I let you two leave, will you swear never to take one step here again?”

“Harper,” Holly began, her voice wobbling.

“Because I will kill you if you ever try. Both of you.”

He raised Royal Orleans in one hand, tapping his fingernails against the brass threateningly. Holly gulped.

“You can’t…keep Domino away from us.”

He was silent for a moment, staring her down with utter malice.

“Please,” she begged. “He’s…we love him, too.”

Harper narrowed his eyes, his expression unfazed. Instead, he tensed ever further. “Do you promise to never harm my family again? To never so much as try?”

“Do you mean--”

“Answer me!” he shouted.

Octavia winced, as did Holly. The girl quickly nodded her head, whimpering as her pained gaze swam with tears. “Y-Yeah.”

Harper closed his eyes. “Then get the hell out of here. Now.”

Holly gave no further resistance. Ivy, ever silent, was complacent to be pulled along. Holly moved in reverse towards the alleyway, never turning away from Harper and Octavia. Given the disaster in their wake, she lacked the capacity to literally flee, duty-bound to her ailing sister. Quietly and slowly, she shrunk into the shadows with tentative steps.

“Holly,” Octavia called.

“Thank you,” the girl answered. “For…saving my sister.”

Octavia’s heart burned. “I’m sorry for whatever she’s been through. Both of you.”

While she couldn’t see Holly’s face any longer, she could still catch the emotion in her voice as it wavered. “I…thank you," the girl repeated.

Octavia watched her depart, their visages merging with the crevices of shadowy paths forsaken by the emerging sun. She pitied Harper first and foremost, and she always would. Still, this hurt in a different way. The tiniest part of her offered up a silent wish for their safety in tandem. So, too, did she spare a plea for their happiness, should the world be kind enough.

Harper fixed her with a mixed look that she couldn’t discern. “What’s…going through your head right now?”

Octavia only gazed at the empty alleyway. “Dissonance has to come from somewhere, right? It doesn’t just…show up.”

He averted his eyes, his voice soft. “Yeah.”

She peered up at him. “Do you think we should help with the--”

Something crashed into her from behind. She stumbled forward, nearly falling onto her face. It was a miracle that she didn’t, saved only in part by hands ensnaring her waist and a flute pressing into her stomach. Against her spine, she was fairly certain a face was pressed between her shoulder blades. Her initial shock robbed her of a smile that she didn’t think to don.

“I’m so glad you’re safe!” Viola cried. “You scared the hell out of me! Both of you!”

Octavia finally found her smile, gently rubbing one of Viola’s clinging hands with her fingertips. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re safe, too. I saw you putting out the fire. You looked really cool.”

She accentuated her words with a surveying glance. Natural colors of a happier world had replaced flame and Dissonance. Only frightened children and stray tears served as souvenirs of a Hell that reigned just moments ago. She couldn’t attest as to injuries at a first glance, although she didn’t hear any true panic. Of those she did find, most were minimal, bound to scrapes and smoke-born complications. It was the first time her pounding heart began to slow. So, too, could she finally breathe a true sigh of relief.

She lost Harper altogether. Speed once used for offense found purpose in adoration, and he rushed directly into the arms of each and every child in turn. From afar or otherwise, he radiated worry, and Octavia watched as he took turns smothering them in personal attention and reassurance. He was surely exhausted. He was surely aching fiercely. Even so, love came first. It was so like him.

“I’m so, so confused,” Viola continued, unwrapping herself from Octavia’s waist. “I leave for one night and the whole place goes up in flames. What in the world happened?”

Octavia sighed. “It’s a bit of a story, for sure.”

“Also,” Viola hissed under her breath, “you didn’t think to tell me about that? Seriously?”

When she jabbed one hostile thumb in Josiah’s direction, Octavia stifled a smirk. “I told you there was something at the manor you should know about.”

“That’s a pretty big ‘something’ to not clarify! How the hell did that happen?”

“We…definitely have some stuff to talk about. A lot of it, actually,” Octavia answered.

“You think?”

“There’s something I need to do first, though,” she said.

Of all places for her eyes to wander, roaming the expanse of charred canvas, they settled upon a harmonica in hands too small for its burden.

Viola didn’t stop her when she tenderly settled Stradivaria into her arms, nor when she made for the boy empty-handed. Why in the world she felt timid around Domino, of all people, was beyond Octavia. She blocked out every lively sound around her, folding her nervous hands together in front of her dress. Every step was equally as anxious.

“You know, for a novice, you weren’t half bad! Keep it up, and maybe someday I’ll consider taking on an apprentice. No need to thank me,” Renato said with a wink, ruffling Domino’s hair.

The exasperated child buried his face in his hands, the steel of Broken Bliss pressing against his forehead all the while. “You are the absolute most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“Domino?”

Octavia’s wavering voice betrayed her best attempts at exuding confidence. Domino, too, tensed, his shoulders stiff as he lowered his arms to his sides. The moment he met Octavia’s eyes, he fell silent.

She paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “You did…great today.”

For a brief second, she could’ve sworn she saw the slightest of sparkles in his eyes. Even so, he quickly averted them, his gaze drifting down into the gravel. “Just did what I was supposed to. Nothing special.”

Renato found her searching gaze before she found his. Octavia nodded, and so did he. Quietly, he backed away, making for the others on the far side of the camp. She wanted isolation. He gave it to her.

“Do you like being a Maestro? So far, I mean?”

“I don’t know,” Domino said. “I think so. I like having this…power to myself. I like feeling strong. I like being able to protect people.”

He raised his head, his face tinted with pain. “I didn’t like whatever the hell all that was, though. I hated it.”

Octavia smiled weakly. “That’s part of being a Maestro, sadly. If you’ve got one of those instruments, that’s your job. It always will be.”

His face fell. “I gotta do that forever? Fight that stuff, over and over?”

She shook her head. “Not all the time. Ideally, that doesn’t happen, but there’s no promises. You never know when you’ll need to. It’s the price we pay for having that kind of power.”

“What if I don’t want to do this anymore? Then what?”

Octavia couldn’t find the words to answer. No amount of attempts to string a sentence together were successful. She cleared her throat.

“I need to talk to someone. This is gonna be really weird. Keep an open mind, okay?”

Domino raised an eyebrow. “O…kay?”

“Could you…hold out the harmonica? In your hands, like this?” she asked, emulating a cupping motion with her own palms.

He obliged, although not without narrowing his eyes. “Sure.”

Face-to-face with Broken Bliss, nearly at eye level, the Harmonial Instrument was even more beautiful up close. The Harmonial Crest burnt into the corner of the top plate was subtle, and yet shone brilliantly beneath the morning sun. She almost regretted what she was entertaining the idea of doing.

“I know you’re in there,” Octavia said as confidently as she could. “Come on out. I want to meet you.”

In the few moments that nothing happened, Domino’s expression was valid. She could very much understand how deranged she looked. When the light came, majestic and luminous as it burst into something far greater, the roles of insanity might’ve been reversed. Octavia couldn’t blame him, given the gorgeous display of spectacular scarlet that sprung to life before his eyes. Radiance once more pooled into the shape of a human, memorable and unmistakable.

Just as she’d come to expect, a stranger born of light graced her presence, as brilliant as a star and equally as lovely. With a blinding spark, she was greeted with a crimson aura not unlike Orleanna’s own. Even so, the stature was far different, notably broader and visibly masculine. In stark contrast to Orleanna’s petite and delicate existence, the firm presence and build of the Muse was striking. He was more like Brava, if she really squinted.

“You are the Ambassador, are you not?” the Muse spoke, his voice deep and smooth.

She nodded, devoid of the initial surprise that would’ve caught her off guard so long ago. “My name is Octavia. I’m the Ambassador. What’s your name?”

He bowed his head low, a gesture of presumed respect she still didn’t quite feel she deserved. “Call me Breileneth. It is a pleasure to meet the Ambassador at last.”

Octavia had expected Domino’s face to fill with shock, confusion, or perhaps horror. Instead, when she found his shining eyes wide with honest awe, something in her heart felt warm in turn. He blinked slowly, his mouth agape. It took him far longer than expected to find any words at all.

“Can…anyone else see this?” he finally murmured, briefly peeking over his shoulder at the other children.

Before Octavia could answer, Breileneth took her place. “My visage belongs only to those who have touched upon our burden.”

Octavia breathed a silent sigh of relief. She’d thought to give the same answer, albeit with half-certainty. Explicit confirmation from a Muse helped.

Domino nodded slowly. “And have you…been in there the whole time?”

It was Breileneth’s turn to nod. “I have, indeed.”

Domino turned to Octavia instead. “And do…do all of the--”

“Yes,” Octavia answered with a soft smile. “Everyone has a partner.”

“A partner,” he repeated aloud, testing the words of his lips. “It’s…nice to meet you, then, I guess.”

“Likewise,” Breileneth spoke gently. “You show promise for one so young.”

Domino peered up at him. “Really?”

“Even at such an age,” he continued, “you bring great honor to the legacy of the Willful. Be proud of the fire which runs valiantly through your blood, child.”

For the first time since they’d met, Octavia wasn’t ignorant to the way Domino’s lips curled upwards. Soft and genuine, it was beautiful. His smile made her heart sing.

“Breileneth,” she interrupted, much to her own dismay. “I’m…here to set you free.”

“You would bear witness to the pains I carry, then.”

She nodded. “The toll. It’s been paid, hasn’t it?”

“Of this, you are correct. Do you stand firm in your choice?”

She spared a glance at Domino. Of all things, she hadn’t expected to find his eyes shimmering. With what, she wasn’t immediately sure.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “‘Set him free’?”

Octavia hesitated. “These instruments…aren’t supposed to be here. Our partners have a home. It’s my job to help them go back to where they belong.”

“I already have to say goodbye?” Domino murmured sadly. The hurt in his voice, let alone his general wording, stung.

“I’ll say goodbye to my partner someday, too. All of us will. When all of them go back to where they came from, though, that terrible purple stuff will never come back again. This is something we can do together to help protect everyone.”

His forced smile this time was pained, marred by the subtle pinpricks of tears at the edges of his eyes. “I really thought I finally had something special all to myself. I’m guessing it’s too late to change my mind, huh?”

Octavia couldn’t help but cup her own hands beneath his. Her fingertips brushed against his own, and they carried the weight of the harmonica in tandem. “You’re still just as special, with or without this thing.”

“How am I supposed to protect this place without it?”

Her own forced smile was perhaps equally as empty, although not without genuine effort. “You’ve done it before, I’m sure. You’re smart, and you’re resourceful, and I know you’ll find a way. If worse comes to worst, there’s always people who you can rely on.”

His fingertips curled inwards in the slightest, almost defensively encircling Broken Bliss. Dragging this out would only hurt him further. With as much determination as she could muster, Octavia did what she could to refocus her attention on the Muse above them.

“I’m ready. I’ll perform the Witnessing.”

“As you wish,” Breileneth spoke calmly. “You have my gratitude, Ambassador.”

She already knew what was to come, granted. Still, the haunting words that preceded her death never failed to make Octavia’s heart pound. For Domino’s sake alone, she did everything she could to quash her anxiety--at least for now. Her fake smile was the only weapon she had against darkness far more true.

“Domino Kresh,” Breileneth began, “your toll has been paid thrice over. Now, Ambassador, see through the eyes of the ones who paid the toll.”

At the mention of his name, Domino’s panicked eyes snapped upwards. It took Octavia’s voice to drag them back down.

“It’s okay. This is where I come in. You don’t have to do anything. Just hold the harmonica for me, alright? Trust me.”

Despite the obvious fear splashed upon his own eyes, Domino nodded, his curls bouncing with the tiny movement. His hands trembled with the effort of remaining steady as Octavia withdrew her own. Carefully, she positioned her palms above the innocent piece of metal.

Keeping calm when she came up was going to be exceedingly difficult. It didn’t help that she wasn’t confident about what she was about to see, for all that she knew of the circumstances. Still, panicking would only hurt the boy. There was a very good chance that this would be her hardest toll yet, and for a different reason than she’d expected.

Octavia didn’t give him anything more than the same smile, desperately filled with as much truth as she could squeeze behind false confidence. She had nothing else to offer a child who’d already lost everything. With closed eyes and a downward motion, she stole yet another precious piece of Domino's life. For how little he still had to claim, it hurt worse than any death could ever.