Page 210 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

Property of King Ryant Royale.

Beneath the plaque, a cloth warning label had been affixed. Its message was unambiguous and ominous:

(Do not touch the energy sphere, death comes to all that do)

Someone must have skipped the warning label, Rain thought, braving a glance at the victim at his feet. The corpse’s swollen fingers were curled inward, as though they had reached for the sphere in their final moments. Though he could understand why; the warning label did nothing to diminish its hold, urging him to touch it, though he didn’t imagine it would have the same effect on mortals, or even aetherials of other bloodlines. The pull was intoxicating; a magnetic hum that vibrated through his bones, whispering to him, calling him closer.

He resisted, taking a step back he folded his arms across his chest, unable to tear his eyes away from the book. Ryant was the first blue king, his ancestor, Skylar’s son. This had to be why he was here, he needed to get into that book, or at the very least touch it. The desire to feel the essence of the rainbow aetherchrome was undeniably strong, he needed access.

Chewing on his lip, Rain weighed his options with growing unease. He considered relocating the book without touching it, reasoning this was probably the wisest course of action. Then perhaps, he’d need to speak to Isarion or consult the order in the hope that they might possess some knowledge of the book’s existence and how to access its secrets. He vaguely recalled his aunt saying she had spent time with the Order, it would make sense for them to be aware of its existence.

On the other hand, he could simply touch the book and see what happened. After all, there had been no prophecy foretelling his death by energy sphere. All signs from the Gods and prophecies pointed toward a destiny far greater for him, so surely, he was immune to its power—wasn’t he?

Perhaps the true key was his rainbow blood. Rain suspected that many before him had tried to free the book from its magical prison and failed. Had died in the attempt. They lacked what he possessed. He leaned in, reaching his hand towards the sphere. It pulsated in response, the purple hue shifting towards blue as his fingers hovered an inch from its surface. The air around it crackled, tiny sparks of iridescent light dancing along the barrier as though recognising him.

But doubt crept in.

Cold.

Sharp.

Unwelcome.

What if he was wrong?

What if the sphere didn’t differentiate?

What if the magic didn’t care about prophecy or bloodlines?

He wasn’t prepared to die; not here, not atop another unfortunate soul. A book, no matter how extraordinary, wasn’t worth that sacrifice.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped back and paced toward the window, seeking both distance and fresh air. He opened the window wide to ventilate the space, leaning against the sill and gazing out blindly, lost in thought. Cool air rushed in, cutting through the suffocating stench, but it did little to ease the tension coiled in his chest.

One thing was certain: he would not be leaving without the book.

Whatever the source of the ancient magic; whether the book itself or the sphere, it held Rain captive. He could sense, without knowing how, that it recognised him. The magic wanted him, and, undeniably, he wanted it in return.

With a decision finally made, Rain stood upright and, with a flick of his wrist, replaced the crate’s lid and sealed it shut. Relief washed over him as the pull of the magic was immediately dulled, almost undetectable had he not felt it at its full capacity. The barrier of the lid allowed him to think more clearly, the fog of compulsion lifting just enough for rationality to return.

He manoeuvred the crate down the stairs, careful to avoid the decaying body, and breathed easier as he left the stench behind. Wasting no time, he placed a call to the shadow guard, arranging for a ride back to his residence and alerting them to the mysterious dead civilian he had discovered.

Chapter 53

Crowds swarmed the bar again, just as before, with red citizens dominating the space. The moment Rain stepped inside, the air felt thick; humid with breath, laughter, and the low rumble of dozens of overlapping conversations. The scent of roasted meat, spilled ale, and too many bodies pressed together clung to the room like a second skin. Rain had made sure to arrive before the rush, choosing to eat in a secluded corner where the shadows softened the edges of the chaos. The thought of dining alone at the house was just as unsettling to him as eating alone anywhere else.

Thankfully, Elijah had been excellent company before his shift began. He kept Rain distracted with his flirtatious charm, ensuring his cup was never empty and teasing him with gentle touches whenever he could; a brush of fingers along his forearm, a playful nudge of his hip, a lingering hand on Rain’s shoulder as he leaned in to speak. Elijah seemed determined to claim Rain’s attention for the night, and Rain found himself grateful for the attractive distraction, needing something to pull him from the torment of waiting.

Despite Elijah’s efforts, Rain struggled to escape the feeling of being stuck in purgatory. The sensation clung to him like a damp cloak; heavy, suffocating, impossible to shrug off. He felt he had no choice but to wait: wait for communication from the girls, wait for his sister to return from the Green kingdom and call him back sothey could try to decipher a way to access the prism codex, wait for council, and wait for any sign of movement. It seemed as though his entire world was on pause, and he could do nothing but endure the endless waiting for everything and everyone.

He was not a patient male; it wasn’t his forte. He may be an excellent observer, strategic in his advances, but it didn’t stem from patience. Waiting made him antsy, wary of the unknown. His knee bounced beneath the table, fingers tapping against the rim of his glass, his senses stretched thin like a bowstring pulled taut.

As Elijah refilled his ale for the umpteenth time, leaning close, pressing his lips to Rain’s cheek; Rain felt a presence within the crowd, watching, scowling in his direction. The sensation cut through the haze of noise like a blade. His attention homed in on the energy, taking but a second to find the source; the only other aetherial in the vicinity. Undoubtedly female, but somehow her energy was different to any he had felt before, her energy reading like a pamphlet rather than the open books that surrounded him. Thin. Guarded. Deliberately curated.

Elijah sighed, sensing Rain’s sudden lack of interest and reluctantly sauntered back to work. Rain barely noticed him leave; his attention was drawn elsewhere. Though he could not see the female, Rain sensed her presence lingering across the room, confident in her stealth; unaware that he had already detected her.

Rising from his chair, Rain made his way to the bathroom. It was a calculated move, intended to bring him closer to his observer without rousing her suspicion. The hallway leading to the bathrooms was dimly lit, the hum of conversation fading behind him as he stepped into the quieter space. After relieving himself, he remained alert, monitoring the distinctive energy signature as he washed his hands. He noticed that she re-positioned herself, choosing a vantage point that gave her a better view of the bathroom exit. Her behaviour piqued Rain’s curiosity.

With his knowledge of the building’s exits, Rain chose to leave via the staff exit near the bathrooms. The metal door groaned softly as he slipped out into the alleyway, the cool night air brushing against his heated skin. He circled around the building, re–entering the bar through the double doors at the main entrance. The sudden swell of sound hit him again; laughter, clinking glasses, the thrum of music vibrating through the floorboards.