Page 217 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

“It’s just—I truly believe our blood is the key to getting through the field, and I reeaallly want to get my hands on that book.”

Snow made a disapproving sound as she watched him pacing, “If it were to kill me then there wouldn’t be all these prophecies about a future, I’m destined to live for.”

Snow tutted, slamming her pen down with such force the hologram jutted out of focus.

“Rain, that is not good enough logic to live by. Fate is ever-changing; you are not immune to consequence. You could easily alter the course of destiny by—you know—letting us all down by doing something recklessly stupid and dying.”

He rolled his eyes. She was right, much to his dismay. With great reluctance he began to lift the lid back into place when Snow stopped him with an idea.

“Wait. If you’re right and we both hate that you tend to be, and our blood is the key… why don’t you bleed upon it and see what happens? A controlled experiment, not a suicidal one.”

Rain’s expression brightened instantly at Snow’s suggestion. The lid clattering into the floorboards as he let go. “Yes! Why didn’t I think of that? You are a genius.”

His excitement was almost palpable. Unable to contain himself, Rain quickly excused his presence and headed to the kitchen to obtain a knife, his mind already set on putting Snow’s idea into action.

The magic kept him in a stronghold, tightening with distance. With great restraint he made it to the downstairs hallway — close enough to entice a knife from its block and into his palm. He was back beside the crate in an instant, appearing almost manic as he held the blade to his hand and sliced deeper than necessary in one swift movement.

Snow gasped, mesmerised by the sight. She wasn’t entirely sure the experiment was working, but the light dancing across Rain’s skin was enough to draw a reaction from her.

“Absolute genius,” Rain breathed, the relentless pull vanishing along with the force-field

Rain hovered his right hand cautiously above the cover of the book, allowing its potent energy to mingle with his own. The sensation radiating from the object was uncanny — it felt alive, almost sentient. Contrary to his expectations, the aetherchrome cover wasn’t transmitting energy in the way he had anticipated. Instead, it was as though the very pages of the book were channelling the aetherchrome directly.

He lifted the book with the utmost care, tilting it so Snow could see what he was seeing. Her eyes widened with awe.

The book shimmered brilliantly, the surface alive with a dance of colours that glimmered under the light. Its edges were adorned with exquisitely detailed filigree gold, each minute flourish crafted with obvious reverence and intent, suggesting a sacred purpose. However, their intrigue was interrupted by the presence of a lock, another barrier standing between them and the secrets within. The lock was unusual, lacking any visible keyhole. Perhaps this was a stroke of luck, given that they possessed no key.

Curious, Rain ran his thumb over the onyx plate set into the padlock, pondering its mechanism.

Suddenly, an unexpected stream of corporeal fog erupted from the onyx plate, catching him off guard. Instinctively, he released the book but caught it mid-fall with his power. As the swirling fog settled, a visual began to materialise, blooming from within the mist.

An apparition materialised before them; a spectral figure in full ghostly glory. The form belonged to an elderly female, her presence commanding and graceful. Fine, fragile lines marked her aged face, each onetelling a story and adding to the elegance of her features rather than diminishing it. Atop her head sat a crown, its delicate design nestled amongst intricately braided hair, further emphasising her regal bearing.

The ghostly elder stood before Rain and Snow, her expression both serene and powerful, radiating an aura of wisdom and authority. She gazed at them, and then, in a voice that carried echoes of ages past, she began to speak.

“Hello Rain, Snow.”

They both gasped, instinctively clutching at their identifier necklaces at their throats. The figure chuckled warmly, before continuing.

“I am Queen Skylar Royale, as you should have discovered by now, I am your great, great, great, great Granny!” Her tone was warm and kind, but her features shifted to sadness before she continued, “I know, this is a little unorthodox, but I am not here; this is an enchantment that I placed upon our most sacred artefact to activate at Rain’s touch. I cannot interact with you, so please listen closely, as this can only be viewed once.”

The twins exchanged a look, and Snow immediately began jotting notes in the notepad before her.

“In my time, exactly one thousand years before your birth, I had to make some extremely difficult sacrifices—not just for the realm, but for the longevity of our planet. All will be revealed in time; this book is just one of the components in place to guide you on the right path. Now, I say this with a heavy heart, my loves, but the unfortunate burden that falls upon you is far greater than you could ever imagine. Mother Aerth is dying, and you two are the key to her survival.”

Rain paled, his mouth suddenly parched. The depth of their destiny felt too heavy to bear; like the anchor of a battleship lost in torrential waters while a cyclone tore apart their foundations.

“My dearest Rain Beau,” she continued, her voice softening, “I cannot say all that I wish to within this spell but know that I understand whoyou are and what you have been through, and I have seen all that you will accomplish—should you succeed. I am exceptionally proud of you. You are the most important part of my legacy, and I apologise that this responsibility was thrust upon you because I failed to end it within my lifetime.”

Her tone hardened, her corporal white eyes fixing on him with a force that rooted him to the spot.

“It falls to you to not only save our world, but to save our people—aetherial and mortal alike. You must restore peace and order. You must unify our realm once again; through whatever means necessary. It is your birthright. Take what is yours. You do not ask for permission—there is no time for that.”

Her presence, though spectral, pressed against him like a physical weight.

“It falls upon you to recognise the infected wounds that live within your fellow aetherial and rehabilitate them under your rule. We are the protectors of land and life, lest we forget.”

Rain exhaled sharply and plonked onto his bed as the Queen’s gaze released him, the pressure of his inheritance festering in his gut.