Elias's stillness in the clearing was intense. The Wildwood's colors seemed to hush around him, respecting the silence he radiated. He was like a void, but not the draining kind like the Siphon. His was controlled, like the quiet spot in the eye of a storm.
Lyra hadn't let her guard down. Her hand stayed near her crystal rod, her Violet Chroma tense and ready. Elias, she said calmly. The stories said you were gone.
Stories can be twisted, just like Chroma, Lyra, Elias replied, his eyes showing lines. I didn't vanish. I just stepped into the spaces between sounds. It's the only way to stay hidden from him. He didn't need to name the Prime Chroma; his presence hung over everything. Elias's knowing gaze landed on me. And you have your mother's eyes.
My world tilted. The ground felt unsteady. My… my mother? I breathed. Liora was kind and quiet. Her whole world was our cottage and the village. She never talked about Chroma, Scribes, or wars.
Elias's sad smile hurt. Not the woman who raised you—Aelia, the last real Queen of the Scribes. She hid you, her son, in the most boring, unnoticed place she could, hoping your power would sound like nothing until you were strong enough to use it. He looked at me. The title 'Grey Prince' isn't just a fancy name, Kaelen. It's what you were born to be, and it's heavy.
The truth hit me hard. My whole life was a lie made to keep me safe. The people I loved were just my guardians. My curse was my crown. My past was gone, leaving me hanging over a scary, unknown history.
Why now? Lyra asked, getting back to the problem. Why show yourself after all this time?
Because things are changing, Elias said gravely. The Prime Chroma's silence is building. He isn't just draining things; he's getting ready to end it all. And the boy isn't a secret anymore. He's a light. We all felt when the Heartrot died. This forest can't hide you for long.
He gestured with his staff. The air behind him shimmered, not like Lyra's shield, but with a soft fade. Reality seemed to grey out, showing a path that wasn't there before—a trail between two old trees that now stood guard.
The Sanctuary of the Unseen, Elias said. Follow me, and don't leave the path. The grey you see isn't nothing; it's a maze.
He stepped into the grey and vanished. Lyra hesitated, glanced at Finn and me, then followed. I took a breath, feeling the weight of who I was, and went after them.
The world turned soft grey. There was no sound, wind, or smell. It was like walking through a cloud. I could feel the path, but my Chroma sense felt nothing. It was scary but also familiar—it was my world, but now I knew it was fake, magical. Finn gasped behind me. It must have been like going blind and deaf.
It felt like forever, but then the grey faded. We were in a valley hidden in the mountains.
It was amazing.
It wasn't bursting with Chroma like the Nexus. The energy was softer, carefully made. The sky was always twilight, lit by floating lights that hummed with a clear Chroma. The buildings seemed to grow from the rocks and trees, their shapes flowing and natural. A river of silver—not metal, but Zephyr and Cerulean—ran through the center, its song gentle and calming.
And there were people—dozens. They moved quietly, their auras controlled. I saw a woman weaving light on a loom made of branches, and a man growing crystal flowers with a whisper. Their Chroma wasn't hidden; it was in sync, each person a beautiful part of the valley's song.
This was the safe place. This was what we were fighting for.
We were taken to a simple house built into a crystal tree. Inside, Elias told us to sit on benches that seemed to grow from the floor.
Finn, Elias said, looking at the former Ash-Singer. You being here makes things harder.
Finn flinched. I understand. I'll take whatever happens.
Judging you is for when things are calm, Elias replied. You know the enemy's plans and where they are. That's important. But you have to earn our trust. He looked at Lyra. His shield stays on. He'll have jobs to do, and he'll be watched. The Sanctuary can fix him, but we aren't dumb.
Lyra nodded. It was a good idea—use Finn but don't forget what he did.
After Finn was led away by a man with a sharp aura, Elias turned to me.
Now for your first lesson as a Prince of the Scribes, he said. You've learned to hear Chroma, to stop the noise. Now you have to learn how to hide.
Hide? I asked. I thought I was done with that.
You hid because you were scared, Elias said. A Scribe hides like a leaf in a forest—by being part of everything. Your power is a light because you're loud. You have to learn to play along with the world. He pointed at me. The Prime Chroma hunts you because you're a loud void. You have to become a whisper.
Elias worked with me all day. It was hard and annoying. He had me sit by the river and not just feel its song, but match my own to it. I had to let my power vibrate at the same speed—become part of the river's music instead of just watching.
It was the opposite of what I'd done before. Instead of pushing my silence out, I was asking it to blend in. At first, I failed. My power would jump, the river's song would skip, and the water would pull away.
But slowly, I started to find the rhythm. I remembered the Nexus, being part of the song. I let go of trying to control things and just let myself be.
After hours, I opened my eyes. My hands seemed to shimmer, blending with the light. Lyra was watching and looked surprised. I hadn't vanished, but my presence had gone from a shout to a whisper.
Good for the first time, Elias said, though he looked happy. The Prime Chroma can sense a lot, but he looks for things that are off. To find something that's in sync takes focus, and he's forgotten how to do that.
As twilight fell, I looked at the peaceful sanctuary. I was a prince without a home, the son of a queen I never knew, with a power I was learning to use. But for the first time, I wasn't alone. I was with my people, learning from a master, and safe for now.
The war wasn't over. It was coming. But here, in the silence, I was learning to listen and how to make the world listen with me.