Page 150 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

But they were the Gods, they wouldn’t harm her.

He hoped.

“Scarlet.” The voice that filled the space was nothing like the one Rain knew.

It wasn’t the layered chorus of countless beings speaking as one.

It wasn’t the echoing, omnipresent hum of the many-voiced Gods of Fate.

This voice was singular.

Warm.

Nurturing.

Almost… parental.

It wrapped around Scarlet like a blanket, soft and steady, vibrating with a deep, ancient heat.

Rain felt the difference instantly; the way the air thickened, the way the light shifted from white to a molten amber-red.

This wasn’t the collective.

This was someone.

A God.

A Red God.

Cyrrax.

He didn’t know how he knew but he did.

It pulsed through the space like a heartbeat.

“Fear not, sweet child,” Cyrrax soothed, the voice rich and resonant. “For I am Cyrrax, God of Flame and Fate. I come to you with a gift.”

Rain’s breath caught.

Scarlet’s aura fluttered with awe, but she remained calm, as though the warmth of this God felt familiar, like a fire she had always known.

“The same gift that was gifted to the True King,” Cyrrax continued. “King Rain.”

The space flickered — a quick flash of orange light, like a spark catching tinder. Rain felt a wave of contemplation ripple through the God, as though choosing its words carefully.

“I will heal the emotional wounds…”

A pause.

A soft hum of reconsideration.

“Heal the sadness,” Cyrrax corrected gently, simplifying the concept so Scarlet could grasp it. “The sadness that broke your spirit as a child. The sadness that stole your control.”

Scarlet’s presence trembled; not with fear, but with recognition.

“You will still learn great skills from King Rain,” Cyrrax said, “and from the Order of Aurora. But this gift will make your path easier.”

The space flickered again, like a candle flame dancing in a breeze.