Page 4 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

The young woman’s nervous snort cut through the tension like a blade through paper. Her unexpected compassion slipped past Rain’s emotional barriers with startling ease, slicing through the walls he’d built around himself.

Startled, Rain’s head snapped up. His eyes searched hers with a wary, fragile hope. He reached out with his senses, filtering through heraura, bracing for malice or mockery. Instead, he found confusion, fear, pity—but none of it twisted into cruelty. None of it aimed to wound.

Relief loosened something tight in his chest. Still cautious, he let himself breathe, his posture softening as he sank back onto the stool. A gentle hand landed on his shoulder, warm, steady, grounding. It pulled him out of the stunned haze that had swallowed him whole.

“Hey, it’s okay.” The young man’s voice was soft, his baby-blue eyes filled with genuine concern. His hand remained on Rain’s shoulder, a quiet anchor. Leaning over the bar, he signalled to Elijah, who was already hurrying over. “Can we grab three beers, please?” he asked, offering a warm, disarming smile that radiated kindness.

Elijah moved quickly, pouring the drinks and adding an extra one—Rain’s usual. “Thank you, Elijah. Add them to my tab,” Rain murmured, grateful for the familiar routine.

Elijah’s gaze lingered on him, cautious and empathetic. “No problem, babe. You good?” Rain nodded, then lifted the tray and followed his new companions to the nearest booth.

Once they settled, the young man introduced them properly. “I’m Jay, and this is Wren.”

Wren raised her glass with a wicked grin. “Here’s to new friends, teammates, and dead relatives!”

“Wren!” Jay gasped, scandalised, but Rain found himself smirking. Her dark humour cut through the lingering heaviness like a welcome breeze.

“Hear, hear,” he said, lifting his glass before taking a long swallow. Warmth spread through him, easing the tension in his muscles.

He hadn’t known what to expect from this encounter, but already it was mending parts of him he hadn’t realised were cracked. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to hope—just a little—that this might be the beginning of something meaningful. A friendship, perhaps. A connection. Something real.

The next hour passed in a blur of planning—mapping out training schedules, strategising how to recruit new members, tossing ideas back and forth with growing enthusiasm. Their camaraderie deepened with each passing minute. The evening had been an emotional storm—exhausting, exhilarating, and maybe, just maybe, the turning point Rain had quietly dreamed of for years

Chapter 2

Pausing in his squat at the palace boundary, Rain scanned the shadows, senses stretched wide for any hint of movement. He reached out with his power, sweeping the area for nearby signatures. Nothing. No guards. No servants. No curious eyes.

He slipped over the boundary and dropped lightly onto the street, settling into an easy jog.

The evening air greeted him with a cool, crystal breeze that brushed against his skin, a welcome contrast to the suffocating tension of the palace. There was a buoyancy to the night, something clean, something hopeful, that he desperately needed after last night’s dinner. Arguments with his father were inevitable, but lately they had sharpened into something vicious, leaving Rain raw as he moved through the dark.

A ten-foot brick wall rose ahead. Rain sprinted toward it, drawing curious glances from anyone who might have been watching. To them, he would look reckless—deranged, even. But at the last second, he launched upward, feet striking the wall in three precise steps before his fingers caught the edge. He vaulted over and landed silently on the other side.

He didn’t pause. His feet hit the ground and he was already moving, weaving through the construction yard. This was his favourite part of the journey. The half-built structures became a playground of steel beams, scaffolding and skeletal frames. He danced across them with effortless grace, climbing higher and higher until he reached the rooftops.

Up here, he was untouchable.

He leapt from roof to roof, soaring through the air, the city unfolding beneath him. In these moments, he felt free—free from duty, free from expectation, free from the crushing weight of being who he was. Here, he could be nothing but body and instinct, strength and momentum.

It took remarkable skill to move like this. For most people, one misstep would mean catastrophe. But Rain was not most people. His royal bloodline set him apart, but it was the aetherial genetics that made him exceptional. Or… that was the tradition, at least. Over the centuries, the aetherial gifts had faded, replaced by lesser versions. Only recently had the newest generation begun showing signs of renewed power—an unsettling development for the kingdoms.

Rumours whispered of ancient prophecies foretelling the downfall of the kingdoms. Rain had only ever heard fragments. His parents kept him and his sister Snow sheltered, their education curated, their questions deflected. Over the years he had pieced together what little he could from overheard conversations and palace gossip.

He suspected the prophecies involved him and his twin sister. It made sense. Twin births were rare among aetherials, over a thousand years between kind of rare. Rarer still were aetherials who each possessed multiple abilities. Historical accounts from the era of the Great Divide mentioned such anomalies only in passing. Since then, it had become virtually unheard of.

Rain and Snow were an exception. A threat and a political weapon.

Their father revealed only what was useful, concealing the full extent of their abilities to forge alliances and instil caution in their enemies.

Rain had been born with what others might call a gift, but to him, it had always been a curse. His empathic abilities set him apart from the Blue and Green bloodlines of his parents. Empathic power wasn’t impossibleamong them, but it was rare enough that Rain’s sensitivity drew attention long before it evolved.

His powers were the first sign that he and Snow would not be limited to a single ability. As puberty approached, Rain’s empathy fractured into three distinct forms. From birth, he had been a reader, able to sense the emotions of those around him with startling clarity. It made him intensely emotional, dependent on reassurance and overwhelmed by feelings that weren’t his own. His mother had called him difficult. Weak. Exhausting.

His father had hoped for a son whose powers would befit the throne. Rain’s emotional volatility was a disappointment he couldn’t hide. By age two, Rain had been shunned from court life under the guise of protection. In truth, his father simply couldn’t bear the outbursts that came with Rain’s overwhelmed state.

But when puberty hit, everything changed.

His empathic abilities sharpened, expanded, mutated. He no longer sensed emotions—he embodied them. Every nearby living being became a storm he had to weather. His young mind couldn’t separate his feelings from the feelings of others. Confusion and turmoil became his constant companions.