The Prime Chroma's echo stuck with me, a cold spot in my head. For two days, I was basically a ghost in the sanctuary. The Chroma, which used to comfort me, now felt fragile and like it was doomed. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard that chord – like a god-engine crushing the world. How could one note be so huge? How could I, someone who just stopped leaking power, stand against it?
My training with Elias got way more intense. We moved deeper into the valley to the Heartforge. It wasn't a forge with fire, but one of pure will. The room was like a geode, with amethyst crystals buzzing with Violet Chroma. In the center was an obsidian pillar, like the Siphons, but it didn't do anything. It was a training tool we took from the enemy.
"Control is the theory," Elias said, his voice echoing. "Now build the muscle. Don't hide from the Chroma. Face it. Learn to hold your quiet not as a shield, but like a solid defense."
He pointed to the pillar. "It's a Siphon. It sleeps, but it wants to eat Chroma. I'll feed it some. You stand between them, and just with your will, stop it from eating. Be the ground the river can't erode."
Sounded easy, but it hurt.
Elias started with a thin line of Viridian, the color of life. He sent it from a crystal to the Siphon. As soon as the light touched the obsidian, it woke up. A shimmer pulled the Chroma.
I focused, pushing my quiet out, making a wall. When my power touched the Viridian, I felt it – the living energy, full of joy. My instinct was to silence it. I had to fight that, and become a wall that the energy could hit, but not pass. Like holding back water with glass.
Sweat dripped. The mental strain was huge. I wasn't just blocking; I was understanding. I was letting the Chroma live, while stopping the Siphon. After a minute, I lost it. The Viridian snapped into the Siphon. The obsidian glowed, then went dark.
"Again," Elias said.
We did it for hours. Viridian, then Cerulean, then Zephyr. Each Chroma felt different. Cerulean was hardest; its emotion tried to break me with sorrow or joy. I failed a lot. My head hurt.
During a break, I went to the actual forge where Kael and Finn worked. The air smelled like ozone, and hot stone, and vibrated with Crimson energy. Finn was hammering metal on an anvil. But he wasn't using a hammer. Each time he moved his hand, Crimson Chroma hit the metal, shaping it. He was focused, his eyes narrowed.
He saw me and stopped, the Crimson gone. He pointed to the anvil. "It's…clearing," he said. "No room for doubt. Only the metal, the will, and the shape."
Kael nodded, not looking up from a blade. "The boy learns. He was messy. Now he draws a straight line."
I watched Finn go back, the Crimson hitting the metal. He was all force. I was being unmovable. He was being unstoppable. Both were ways to control.
The next day, things changed. Elias fed Crimson into the Siphon. I braced, remembering Finn's hits. As the energy went to the obsidian, I rooted myself. I became the anvil. I let the Crimson crash, but I didn't let it pass.
Seconds passed. Ten. Twenty. A minute. The Crimson beat against me, but it couldn't get through.
I held it, then let go, breathing hard. The Crimson floated away.
Elias was quiet. "Good," he said. "You're understanding the difference between stopping and doing. You aren't killing the song. You're choosing the instruments."
That success helped me. Subsequent exercises were less crazy, more calm. The Prime Chroma's chord was still there, but it didn't seem to fill the sky. I was learning to focus.
Later, Lyra found me by the river. She had been busy in meetings.
"Elias says you're doing very well," she said, sitting down. Her Violet aura was a little off.
"Doesn't feel like it," I said. "Feels like I'm trying to drain the ocean with a cup."
"That's how it feels for everyone," she said. "True power isn't about explosions. It's about putting one brick on another, until you have a wall."
We sat quietly, watching the river.
"The meetings…" I said. "What's happening?"
She looked sad. "Things are getting worse. The Siphons are multiplying. Regions are going quiet. Elias thinks the Prime Chroma will try to drain the Nexus of the Sunken City. If he does, it's over."
I felt sick. "Which one?"
"The closest one. The Nexus of the Sunken City. It is the source of the deepest Cerulean, the well of dreams." She looked at me. "We can't let him have it. Elias has a plan. A strike to mess up the Siphons around it.
"And me?" I asked.
"You're the one for the job, Kaelen," she said. "You stop the corruption without destroying stuff. The Nexus is too strong. We don't need to explode it."
It was heavy, but different. It was the job of a tool. They weren't asking me to beat the Prime Chroma. They were asking me to disarm a bomb.
I looked at my hands, the hands that used to drain. Now, they were learning to protect. The fear was there. But it was with a sliver of resolve that came from the Heartforge.
The Grey Prince wasn't ready for a throne. But the Scribe was ready for his next job.