Page 35 of Twisted Bonds

He sends me a soft smile. Threads of golden Chroma unfurl from him, tentatively wandering over to me. They caress me, spinning a web of stars around me, and sink into my skin. Suddenly, there isn’t too much pressure. I can breathe again.

“It’s so much,” I whisper. The feelings still pound me relentlessly, trying to force themselves against me in a tidal wave of pain.

“You have to feel them, Sunder,” the Third whispers.

I snap my gaze to him. “I am feeling them,” I rasp. “Why do you think I am so overwhelmed?”

“No. You’re fighting them. Feel them.”

I open my mouth.

Shut it.

And realize I have no idea what he means.

“How do I feel them?”

The Third smiles a serene grin. “Take them. Examine them. Watch what they do, how they feel in your body. Give them a name. Then, let them go.”

He makes it seem so easy. “I will try.”

I close my eyes again. So many emotions broil around. They bang in my head, bouncing off surfaces and gaining velocity as they go.

“Feel them,” the Third’s voice echoes in my mind. I breathe deeply. With the yellow Chroma gloves on my hands, I reach out. I snag one emotion, a red one that looks a lot like anger.

I take it in my hands. It writhes, hot and liquid, fighting my fingers. My chest swells, and my teeth ache from clenching my jaw too tight. But instead of fighting back, I open my hands.

Anger.

Named, it begins to settle. Now it looks less jagged. Its edges are smoothed, and it flutters more and struggles less. The emotion inside me reduces to a simmer.

Anger.

The emotion finally quiets. I let it go. And it disappears, releasing me from its hold. I can breathe easily again. A calm washing through me.

My eyes fly open. “Did I do it?”

He nods. Something shines in his gaze, and he beams at me with that cat-like grin.

“Now, you just have to feel the rest.”

I turn back to my mental task, taking note of the colors that seem to fly around me.

I did not know that by suppressing my blue Chroma, I was doing so much damage to myself. Emotions flit in my mind, a myriad of colors and shapes, each with their own unique flavor and sense.

I nod.

And one by one, I feel them.

sixteen

Callum

For hours, I wait for Mira to return to the dungeons. It took only a few minutes after their departure for Tairyn’s makeshift Chroma bonds and gag to dissipate. Clearly, he didn’t want my intervention, not that I would have been much help. I haven’t held Chroma since before the Shattering. Besides, there’s no telling which hue I’ll have if I do get it back.

In truth, magic doesn’t entice me the way it seems to bewitch others. The opposite really. I find the magic in this world repulsive. A source of contention and an excuse to belittle others while lifting a select few. Instead of serving our world with this supposed gift from the Gods, those with Chroma hoard it for themselves, only allowing their families to benefit. Over the millennia, many families have gone so far as forced inbreeding to keep the bloodlines pure.

I’ve yet to see Chroma add anything beneficial to this world beyond healing, I suppose. But it’s not like that can even be distributed to wide swatches of people. Sure, Azuryn is famous for its hospital, open and free to all. Mostly the healers are common fae volunteers, but occasionally some channelers will find their way in. Legends say it was filled to the brim with channelers when it was first founded. But it seems more like scholars were incentivized to make their city seem greater than it is.