Chapter 13
In the ambient hush of the meditation chamber, Rain settled cross-legged upon the dais.
He stretched his arms high above his head, inhaling deeply as his torso lengthened, then leaned from side to side to loosen the tightness in his muscles.
Once again, apprehension coiled around him like a vice.
His mind swam with a thousand thoughts and worries, making meditation feel more like a chore than a sanctuary.
And yet, beneath the dread, a flicker of eagerness stirred—the hope that he might experience another vision like the last. That pressure alone made it harder to relax.
He drew in a slow breath, palms pressed together at his chest, then exhaled and rested his hands on his knees.
Feeling marginally more prepared, he reached for the folded parchment Isarion had given him and carefully unfolded it.
Holding it beneath the candlelight, he scanned the foreign lettering.
Nothing leapt out at him. No spark. No pull.
Just ornate, ancient scribbles: indecipherable and frustratingly inert.
He turned the page over. As the Elder had said, scholars had left notes from their attempts to translate the script.
A few sources agreed that certain symbols repeated.
One was believed to mean twins. Another was debated to be royal, king, or Aetherial.
All of them, interestingly, pointed toward him.
A twin. An Aetherial. Royal blood. Heir to the throne.
Perhaps that was why Isarion had been guided to pass it on.
Hopefully this time, the communication would be clear and not another cryptic riddle that left his mind in knots.
He folded the parchment into a small rectangle, placed his Nuummite palm stone atop it in his left hand, and covered it with his right, encasing both between his palms. Resting his hands on his crossed legs, he closed his eyes and matched his breath to the soft chant echoing through the alcoves.
He worked through his muscle groups one by one, consciously releasing tension from shoulders to toes.
When his body finally softened, he turned inward.
Surprisingly, his mind didn’t fight him this time.
No intrusive thoughts clawed for attention.
His mind wandered briefly to the days ahead, but nothing lingered long enough to pull him from centre.
Peace settled over him like a warm blanket. Stillness followed.
His mind’s eye didn’t fall into darkness this time. Instead, a haze of lilac-grey unfurled before him. Symbols flickered into view; the same ones etched across the parchment, shifting from one to the next, perhaps word to word. Until they stopped.
On one symbol.
The one scholars believed meant twins.
True to the word, the vision shifted.
Twin babies appeared, they were impossibly small, fresh from the womb, wrapped tightly in wool blankets trimmed with fur. They lay bundled in a wicker basket raised on a wooden frame. Though they seemed asleep, their fragile limbs twitched as they instinctively nuzzled closer to one another.
“Twins. A true blessing from the Gods.”
A deep, strong accent echoed from somewhere behind them. The vision widened to reveal an exhausted woman being bathed and tended to by four others. Rain recognised instantly that the language wasn’t his own—yet he understood every word.
The speaker stood against the wall of the cabin-like room, dressed in furs and leathers with no distinguishing colour, as though she had come straight from a hunt.
“It didn’t feel like a blessing,” the mother whispered, her voice thin with exhaustion. The fur-clad woman let out a soft, knowing laugh.
“You did amazingly, Maggie. That’s five sets in the space of a month.
One set from each bloodline it seems.” She sounded almost breathless with awe.
“Two more mothers are due any day now. One of Blue blood, the other of Green. Both suspected to be carrying multiples. We haven’t reached the far North or South yet, but I can only assume they’re part of this phenomenon as well. ”
Maggie smiled faintly and sank deeper into the steaming water. The furred woman stepped toward the basket, her expression softening with love and reverence.
“There have never been twins or triplets among the Aetherial before, Mistmaker?” a mousy-haired girl asked as she gathered bloodied rags from the bedside. She looked no older than fifteen.
“No,” the Mistmaker replied gently. “We have always been born singular and often without siblings until adulthood. It is important for Aetherial parents to nurture each child into their divine aerth-born purpose before welcoming another life. One child’s power is responsibility enough.
” She smiled as one of the infants curled tiny fingers around hers. “Until now, it seems.”
“It must mean something spectacular. Do you think they’ll be more powerful than usual?” the girl asked.
“The seers believe so. Many have already taken to solitude, seeking knowledge for us.”
A loud knock interrupted them. The Mistmaker strode to the door and opened it to reveal a tall, dark-skinned man draped in a heavy velvet robe the colour of carnations, trimmed with rose satin. His head was bowed, hands hidden within long sleeves that nearly brushed the floor.
“Amarick,” she said. “What have you heard?”
He straightened, towering above the frame.
“The Rainbow Blood has twins. Born five sun cycles ago. The first of our kind.” Gasps rippled through the room. “One of each gender like the others and they channel great power. Each harbour more than one gift.”
The vision dissolved into grey.
A new scene emerged.
Two children came into view, no more than ten, dressed in black fleece-lined robes edged with grey fur. They were unmistakably siblings: alabaster skin with an olive undertone, hair black as coal, and emerald eyes that glowed in the winter sun. Snow glittered around them like crushed diamonds.
“Come on, Sadé! First one to the top wins!” the boy shouted, sprinting ahead.
“No fair, Edu. You cheated!” she yelled back, planting her gloved hands on her hips.
Her face scrunched in fierce concentration.
Suddenly, Edu’s feet slid backward, his boots skidding helplessly across the snow as he was dragged toward her.
He toppled face-first into a soft drift at her feet.
Sadé stepped over him triumphantly, sticking her tongue out before stomping along the tracks he’d made.
“You used your power. That’s cheating!” he growled, scrambling upright.
He chased after her, hands raised. A gale burst into existence around him, swirling violently. Sadé yelped as the wind whipped her hair across her face, blinding her. The storm grew, spiralling wider, stronger. Edu’s eyes widened in terror. He froze, unable to stop the storm he had created.
“Make it stop, Edu!” Sadé shouted, clawing her hair away. She managed to form an energy bubble around herself; creating a pocket of calm within the chaos. “Eduuuu!”
He didn’t stop. Perhaps he couldn’t.
“Edu, your fear is too strong. You’re losing control. Remember your calm!” she pleaded. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he flung his arms helplessly toward the sky.
“Edu, your emotions! They matter...I can’t reach you from here, please!”
A violent gust caught him, hurling his small body through the air. Two screams—perfectly synchronised—echoed across the valley as he slammed into a frost-covered evergreen. The storm died instantly.
Sadé dropped her shield and sprinted to him, falling to her knees. She frantically brushed snow from his limp form.
“Edu, Edu, please be okay. Wake up. Wake up, please.” Her voice trembled as she lifted his head into her lap. Tears brimmed in her jewel-bright eyes. “Please, Edu…I can feel your awareness. Please wake up. Oww… it hurts.”
She whimpered and winced as she scanned his aura, absorbing the echo of his pain.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. I can take it. I’m going to take some of your pain, Edu. You’ll be okay.”
She placed her palm over his heart, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. Edu’s eyelids fluttered, his body exhaling as consciousness returned. Sadé’s face contorted with pain, but she forced one eye open — then both — relief flooding her features.
“You’re awake! Don’t move. You’re injured, but I took enough pain to wake your mind.”
“I’m sorry, Sadé… I couldn’t stop it,” Edu whispered.
“Shush. You just need more practice.” She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, planting a tender kiss. “I’m going to lift you and take you home. The healers will help you. Stay still. I love you, brother.”
The scene faded to grey once more.
A diamond of light emerged, vibrating softly as low hums resonated through the chamber.
“Hello, True King. We appreciate your timely visit.”
The voices were melodic, layered, ancient. “We hear your many questions — so many questions. A wise, inquisitive mind.”
Their words wrapped around his consciousness, warm and proud.
“What you witnessed were two key components of the text you hold. Fragments of your destiny. A destiny that began long, long ago. So long ago that your existence was but an idea in the cosmos. A possibility. A chance.”
The diamond pulsed.
“We cannot reveal too much. Not yet. The first vision is a puzzle piece you must uncover in your own time. But know this, True King—their bloodline will lead you to your true match in every sense of the word.”
An eerie chuckle rippled through the space.
“The text you hold contains knowledge of the twin mutation we created within our aetherial children. An advanced genetic component, crafted to evolve the ancient civilisation. Two born together; to rule, to bring order. We instilled a high moral compass, courage, compassion, and more. Generations of peace followed… until corruption tainted the world, plunging it into chaos for a millennium. You must not let it consume all, now that it awakens.”
A dramatic inhale echoed around him.
“The children of the second vision are the first twins of the true royal bloodline. Only their descendants should sit upon the Aetherial throne. They alone can channel all sources of Aether. The rest are not meant to rule.”
Rain’s breath caught.
“Those children, True King, are your ancestors. Their power runs through your veins. You are not merely of Blue aetheria. Your bloodline is prismatic. Iridescent. The Aetherchrome of your legacy shimmers in luminous rainbow.”
The voice grew excited.
“Yes… yes, yes, yessss. You remember the Prismatic Aetherchrome from your dreams. From your visions. You must one day seek the true source and heal the sickness that festers. The vines are growing. The vines are growing.”
The chant from his last meditation whispered through the background.
“True King, you must break free from those who refuse to see what you are and fear what you will become. The end is near. So, it has been foretold. The True King is the last hope.”
Rain jolted violently, heart slamming into his throat. His breath hitched.
What the fuck.
He clutched his chest, the parchment and stone slipping from his hands onto the dais. They could at least try to ease him out of these visions, he thought bitterly.
He leaned back against the cushions, staring up at the painted constellations, grounding himself in something physical. He had never felt drawn to the Gods; the skies had always felt more honest, more comforting.
Now, with his mind throbbing and full of impossible truths, he longed for the simplicity of the stars more than ever.