Page 94 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

Vass guzzled water straight from his flask, letting it spill down his chiselled torso. All the men had stripped themselves of their base layers; bare-chested, including Rain. The desert heat had forced them to shed their outer layers hours ago, and now the rainforest humidity clung to their skin like a damp shroud. Sweat and grime coated every inch of them.

Rain regretted ever thinking this mission would be straightforward. At this point, the front line sounded like a spa day in comparison. Perhaps that was the exhaustion talking.

He tossed his pack aside and sank down against a jutting rock formation. The stone was cool or at least cooler than his overheated skin and he let his head rest back against it. His pulse throbbed behind his eyes. He scanned the surroundings one last time, pushing his power to its limit. His head pounded, vision blurring at the edges, but he forced himself to sweep the area thoroughly.

Nothing. No threats. No aetherials. No mortals.

Only then did he allow himself to close his channels.

The relief was immediate and dizzying.

He shut his eyes, stifling a yawn, wrists resting loosely against his bent knees. The rainforest hummed around them, cicadas shrieking, leaves dripping, distant creatures calling into the night. The air tasted of wetearth and rotting foliage. The ground steamed beneath them, heat rising in waves.

For the first time since crossing the border, Rain let himself breathe

“Twenty minutes to rest, then we need to be back on the move,” Short commanded.

A collective groan rippled through the squad as they collapsed onto the forest floor, stretching out aching muscles.

“Drink, Royale.”

Short tapped a canteen against Rain’s chest.

He took it without opening his eyes, uncapped it, and sipped with a squint. The water was lukewarm, metallic, but it soothed the dryness in his throat.

Renn and Glass leaned over a map, whispering strategies and vantage points. Short listened from beside Rain, her posture rigid despite her exhaustion. Vass and Hamish lay flat on their backs, already half-asleep, chests rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths.

Rain screwed the cap back on his canteen and set it aside. His hand drifted to his pocket.

The pouch.

Raymon’s gift.

He pulled it out, fingers brushing the velvet. If there was ever a moment to examine the aetherchrome, it was now, before the next phase of their mission swallowed them whole.

He loosened the knotted strings.

The reaction was immediate.

A surge of energy slammed into him, ripping every channel open at once. Rain sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as the red Aether stone tumbled into his palm. He sat bolt upright, eyes wide.

The crystal’s energy collided with his own; not violently, but with a force that demanded recognition. It refuelled him instantly, flooding his veins with vitality, igniting something deep and ancient inside him.

“What is it?” Short snapped, already scanning the trees. The others jolted upright, hands flying to weapons.

Rain didn’t answer. He stared at the crystal in awe.

He felt… awake. As if he’d slept eight hours and downed a gallon of coffee. His limbs tingled. His mind sharpened. His senses expanded.

He had never been close enough to a source crystal to feel its true effects. His father’s leash had kept him and Snow confined to Blue territory their entire lives. The Green Palace had been the furthest he’d ever travelled and only briefly.

He had never experienced the weakening of power that other aetherials described.

And now he knew he never would.

The blood in his veins synced to the crystal’s natural vibration; foreign yet comforting. It reminded him of the subtle hum of life in Red territory… only stronger. Purified. Raw.

“Is everything okay, Your Highness?” Short asked, voice tight with confusion.