Page 22 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

“The birth of the royal rose, twinned with the shadowed seed,

Twisted at root, it should have been destroyed.

In mourning’s grip, you cursed the source.

The vines are growing.

The vines are growing.

She shall be the last of great power,

For he will ensure —

The vines are growing.

The vines are growing.

Three hundred years of her reign, the Darkness will rise,

Until a worthy sacrifice.

The vines will be slowed, not stopped, only stalled.

A millennium of weakened star-blood shall follow,

Until a Rainbow emerges beside the snow,

Where the last seed of hope will reside.

The vines are growing.”

As the final words left her mouth, Skylar whimpered. Her eyes shifted back to their familiar green. Her father wrapped both mother and daughter in a desperate embrace.

The scene dissolved abruptly.

A dark cave materialised; Rain recognised it from his dreams. Black vines of shadow writhed through the aerth. The Aetherchrome, once radiant, now lay entombed and dim. Yet where thin cracks of daylight pierced the stone, an iridescent sheen shimmered faintly across its surface.

Save me,echoed through the cavern, the plea repeating as the vision fractured into a rapid cascade of images: a palace in its prime, newborn infants, a funeral shrouded in white, a crowned queen, battlefields drenched in smoke and blood. The flashes accelerated until they blurred beyond comprehension. Into nothing. Blankness.

The diamond-shaped light returned, pulsing now with an eerie, rhythmic breath. When it spoke, its voice was not singular. It was layered—deep and high, warm and cold, masculine and feminine—as though several gods spoke through one mouth, their tones overlapping in imperfect unity.

“Rain Beau, our Rainbow child.

So careless. So reckless.

Yet already so powerful.

We have waited for you for a thousand turns.

The path before you is veiled in trial,

Yet it is yours by right.

Step forward, true king,

With a heart unshaken.

You do not walk alone.