Chapter 59
The atmosphere shifted the moment the twins stepped aboard the rear carriage of the train heading to Greyswater Stadium.
Together, they were a striking sight; unmistakable in any crowd.
As aetherials, they stood noticeably taller than the average human, their advanced healing and longevity lending them flawless alabaster skin, made even more striking by the contrast of their dark hair.
But what made them truly identifiable was the intense green stare they shared—so identical it bordered on unsettling—making it nearly impossible for onlookers to look away.
Beyond their physical similarities, an unmistakable aura surrounded them: a powerful, regal energy that set them apart. In their presence, mortals couldn’t help but feel as though they stood before beings almost godlike in comparison.
Emily—oblivious to the tension in the air—squealed with delight and launched herself at Rain, flinging her arms around his waist and burying her face against his black cotton t-shirt.
Rain gently patted her back. Several mortal passengers stared in shock, their wary gazes flicking between the affectionate girl and the formidable Blue prince.
They expected him to tear Emily down for treating him so casually; in their defence, most royals did treat humans as less than.
Undeterred by the glares, Emily greeted Snow with equal enthusiasm before tugging Rain eagerly toward the back of the carriage, where Jasmine, Daphne, Thomas, and Rogan were already seated.
Their faces brightened when Snow appeared beside Rain; her presence still novel among the group, or so Rain told himself.
Despite the warmth that greeted them, Rain immediately noticed the absence of Jay and Wren. Unease rippled through him. Jasmine caught the shift in his expression and quickly spoke up.
“Wren and Jay got on an earlier train; they’re already at the arena waiting for us.”
Rain nodded and took the window seat beside her.
While his friends chattered with cheerful enthusiasm, he remained quiet, staring blindly out the window, trying to ignore the persistent unease gnawing at him.
Less than sixteen hours ago, Jay had been safe in his room; he clung to that fact, but it did little to soothe him.
For fifteen minutes he stared out at the passing scenery, relaxing only slightly as the stadium platform came into view.
Rain was the first to reach the train doors, urgency propelling him forward even before the train fully stopped. His gaze swept across the empty platform, searching desperately for the familiar halo of blonde hair. If Jay was here, surely, he’d be waiting.
Impatience gnawed at him as he tapped his necklace repeatedly over the scanner, silently willing the doors to open faster. Protocol dictated that the Royal carriage unload first; a delay that only sharpened his anxiety.
Behind him, Snow’s voice cut through his tension. “What’s wrong?” she asked, wary as she peered over his shoulder.
Rain twisted toward her, unable to hide the stress etched across his features. Her eyes searched his, but he couldn’t explain; it felt irrational. Jay was fine. They’d told the group they were arriving early. His dreams were just dreams.
The door finally opened, sparing him from answering.
He surged onto the platform, senses flaring as he sent out his feelers, searching for Jay’s energy signature.
“Something’s wrong,” he murmured.
He stopped abruptly. His heart dropped.
Snow, intent on staying close, collided into his back. “What the—”
Her words died as she followed his gaze toward the mountains behind the stadium. Smoke—thick, dark, unmistakable—billowed upward, gathering momentum.
Her jaw dropped.
Rain snapped into action, authority taking over.
“Get back on the train!” he commanded, voice sharp. When no one moved, he repeated himself, urgency cracking through his tone. “Now! Get on the fucking train and don’t stop until you’re home. The Reds are attacking. I need you all to get to safety. Snow—go with them. Help them.”
Passengers nearby overheard and panic spread like wildfire.
Snow immediately protested. “I’m not leaving you!” she snapped, pointing toward the smoking mountainside. “And we are not running straight into that blatantly obvious trap!”
Jasmine stepped forward, bewildered. “I don’t understand—why would they attack here? It’s neutral territory.”
Rain pointed emphatically at the thick cloud of smoke. “That is Drazier’s smoke. I’ve fought enough battles against him to recognise it––even without sensing the threat from here.”
He turned to Snow, his glare stern, silently begging her to get behind the Blue border where she’d be safe. She held his gaze stubbornly until he growled in resignation and turned to Jasmine.
“Jasmine, you’re team leader today. Get everyone as far away from here as possible. I need to find Jay—”
The stadium tannoy shrieked, interrupting him.
A calm yet firm voice announced that, “due to unforeseen circumstances,” the Tournament had been cancelled, and all guests were to make their way to the platform in an orderly manner.
The message repeated on loop as Shadow guards appeared from nowhere, directing passengers onto any available carriage, ignoring the usual boarding protocol.
Rain repeated his order to the team one last time before pushing against the flow of panicked travellers. Snow stayed glued to his side.
He approached a Shadow guard stationed at the gate. The guard startled, fear spiking through his energy as he recognised who stood before him.
Rain towered over him, urgency radiating off him. “What is happening?” he demanded, voice sharp and unyielding.
The guard shifted nervously. “We—We don’t know anything, sir. We’ve been ordered to evacuate the area, that’s it. Maintain peace and order by any means necessary.”
Frustration surged through Rain. Expecting useful information from glorified babysitters had been foolish.
Determined, he pressed forward into the stadium, forcefully clearing a path through the panicked crowd. Screams and hysteria blurred around him; none of it mattered. He scoured every energy signature, searching desperately for that familiar tug.
Nothing.
He clung to the faint hope that Jay was here, but instinctively he knew; if Jay were present, Rain would have felt him by now.
Then, amid the chaos, Rain’s attention flickered to another familiar signature—Storm, the female he had sensed at the bar two nights prior. His heart reacted involuntarily.
He ignored it.
Storm was none of his concern.
Rain paused in the centre of the stadium, the crowd instinctively forming a wide berth around him and Snow; a perfect circle of empty space that eerily mirrored the scorched ground from his nightmare about Jay. Snow’s voice broke through his spiralling thoughts.
“You can’t sense him?” she asked, her eyes darting anxiously across the chaos.
Rain shook his head, distracted and troubled. “I can’t feel him… but somehow, I feel like he’s in distress. I can’t explain it.”
Snow nodded, but the gesture offered no comfort. Her own unease bled through her aura, validating his fear. If Snow felt it too, then this wasn’t paranoia. Something was wrong.
Julian emerged from the crowd, flanked by undercover Purple guards. Snow greeted him warmly, and Rain felt the flutter of her relief slip through his open channels. He forced himself to breathe through the emotional noise as Julian delivered the latest directive.
“They’re asking that we exit at the rear. Cars are waiting to escort us to our kingdoms.” He added, almost casually, “Their leader has requested aid from any aetherials willing to assist, but it’s not our fight, right? They chose to live outside aetherial rule.”
Rain seethed. Julian’s indifference was astonishing. The peace treaty bound all kingdoms to defend Grey territory—it was their duty. This was a moment for unity, not cowardice.
Snow spoke before Rain could unleash his fury, articulating everything he felt with a passionate diplomacy he could never muster in this moment. As she spoke, Rain guided them away from the centre, forging a path toward the rear exit.
He felt alien in his own body. His mind was consumed by the emotional storm channelling through him, yet his body moved instinctively.
The chaotic energies swirling around him made it nearly impossible to maintain composure.
It was the first time since the Gods had granted him greater mastery that he’d been hit with such a large-scale emotional onslaught.
He knew he should raise his mental shield—protect himself—but he couldn’t. To shut down now would sever the very awareness that kept him grounded. That fragile thread of perception was the only thing holding him together as he led the group through the pandemonium.
Amid the chaos, a voice cut through the noise.
“Prince Rain! Prince Rain!”
He turned. A short, balding man stood atop a platform, waving frantically. Rain pushed past the crowd, who parted quickly, curiosity and fear pressing down on him.
“Your Highness,” the man said urgently, “I have Sir David on the line requesting to speak with you.”
Rain nodded and followed him into a booth just outside the exit. Snow latched onto the hem of his shirt, refusing to lose him in the confusion, leaving Julian behind.
Inside, two armoured Shadow guards stood before a radio. Upon seeing Rain, they snapped to attention.
“Your Highness!”
David Charthem’s voice crackled through the static.
“Prince Rain? Is that you? Can he hear me?”
Rain forced his mental shields into place, narrowing his awareness to the small booth. “I’m here. Tell me what’s going on.”
David exhaled sharply. “We spotted smoke in the mountain fifteen minutes ago and sent a small dispatch to investigate. At first, we thought it was a campfire, but the size of the bloom… it’s more likely the work of an aetherial.”
“It’s Drazier,” Rain said immediately. He had already sensed the stench of Drazier’s power in the thick, carbon-laden smoke poisoning the air.