Chapter 1
Class after class, lesson after lesson, and assembly after agonizing assembly—not to mention the endless, suffocating lectures at home about the sacred Laws of Aethelchroma.
The primary law was drilled into our heads from the moment we were old enough to speak: Under no circumstances are two colors to collide. No cross-chromatic communication. No physical contact. No lingering eyes. The only geographical exception was the Null Rift, a stark, bleached expanse anchored in the dead center of our world. It was a place where cross-territory trade was permitted, though every word spoken and every transaction made was strictly monitored by the Chromatic Keepers. Anyone caught showing even a shred of warmth or friendliness to someone outside their own Hue was charged with Chromatic Corruption. The punishment? A one-way trip to the sprawling subterranean prison beneath the Null Rift. What happened down in those shadows was a mystery—mostly because no one ever returned to tell the tale.
I leaned closer to the clouded bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection. My vibrant blue skin and shimmering navy hair glinted faintly in the dim light of the overhead bulb. I took a slow, deep breath, dreading the start of another routine day. Next week, I was scheduled to make my very first trip to the Null Rift markets with my mother. She had been treating the upcoming trip like a march into a warzone, making an already nerve-wracking rite of passage ten times worse.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Zinnia, hurry up! I need to shower!" my little sister Calista’s muffled voice shrieked through the thin wooden panel, breaking my spiral.
I couldn't help the quiet chuckle that slipped out. "Yeah, yeah! I’ll be out in a second!" I shouted back, grabbing my worn wooden hairbrush to tackle the dense tangle of knots that had formed in my thick, straight blue hair overnight.
Living as a family of five in the impoverished district of The Azure Deep was a constant exercise in spatial gymnastics. Calista and I squeezed into a bedroom barely larger than a storage closet. My older brother, Evander, didn't even have a proper room; his "quarters" consisted of a narrow section of the downstairs hallway partitioned off by a faded canvas curtain to give him some illusion of privacy. To top it all off, all five of us shared one cramped, leaky bathroom where the pipes clanked like distressed machinery, and the water barely reached lukewarm on its best days.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Zinnia, seriously! I'm going to be late!" Calista whined, pounding her fist against the frame.
I rolled my eyes at the mirror. "Would you take a chill pill? I’m just brushing my hair! You're acting like the Keepers are at the door!" I scoffed, though I couldn't suppress the smirk spreading across my face.
"Ugh! I’m supposed to be at Maya's house in twenty minutes!" she shrieked back.
"Fine, fine, you drama queen." I ignored her desperate groans as I finally dragged the brush through the last stubborn knot. I splashed my face with a cup of frigid sink water to shock myself awake, unlocked the latch, and pulled the door open. "All yours, brat."
I slid past her just as she practically tackled the doorway, slamming it shut so hard the frame rattled.
Navigating the narrow stairwell, I headed down into our tiny kitchen. My mother, Orla, was already hard at work, balancing a phone between her shoulder and ear while vigorously whipping a bowl of muffin batter. She was mid-shout, likely giving an earful to one of the stock clerks at the small bakery she owned down the street. She gave me a brief, affectionate wave with her free hand, and I offered a small nod in return before heading straight for the sink to tackle the overwhelming tower of dirty dishes.
With a loud, decisive CLACK, my mother slammed the receiver back onto the wall cradle. She let out a long, aggressive sigh that made me bite my lower lip to keep from bursting into laughter.
"Anyway," she began, wiping her hands on her apron as she pivoted toward me, her tone instantly shifting to dead serious. "We need to talk about next week."
I let out a loud groan, leaning my head back against the wooden cabinet. "Mom, please. We’ve discussed this a million times! I’m so sick of having the exact same conversation every single morning. I know the laws! We go in, we buy what we need, we keep our heads down, and we get out. I promise you can trust me."
My annoyance was spilling over, but Orla just took a deep, steadying breath. The stress in her eyes softened the sharp edges of her sharp, aquiline features.
"I know, Zinnia... I know," she murmured softly, her voice carrying a rare, fragile edge. "I’m just... watching the news this morning made my stomach turn. A boy from The Violet Veil and a girl from The Amber Reaches were just sentenced. Found guilty of 'unlawful companionship' after trading letters at the market. They were given twenty-five years in the subterranean cells." She pointed a flour-dusted finger toward the tiny television resting on the counter, its static-laced audio buzzing faint warnings into the room.
"Well, I'm not them, Mom," I said, trying to lighten the heavy mood. I gave her an amused look as I scrubbed a plate. "I barely make friends in our own neighborhood. Do you really think I’m going to go out of my way to strike up a secret relationship with someone covered in yellow or purple?"
A hesitant smile finally cracked through her anxious expression. "I suppose not."
Looking at her now, I realized her short blue hair was powdered heavily with white flour, and streaks of it covered her blue cheeks, making her look as if she’d been caught in a localized blizzard. I grabbed a clean cloth, dampened it under the faucet, and stepped over to gently wipe the flour off her face.
"I know I’ve been nagging you," she admitted softly as she turned to slide the tray of blueberry muffins into the hot oven. "I just worry. But... setting the panic aside, are you at least a little excited? To finally see the Null Rift?"
I paused, wringing out the cloth over the sink as I contemplated the question. The markets were a lifeline for families like ours. Because it was the only neutral territory where citizens from every sector could sell second-hand goods, it was the one place where poor folks from The Azure Deep could buy necessities without paying the extortionate prices demanded by the high-district shops.
"Yeah," I admitted, looking out the small kitchen window at the monotonous, endless blue of our district. "It’ll be nice to see somewhere else for a change... even if the Rift is just miles of featureless white stone and crowded with people we aren't allowed to actually talk to."
Orla gave a sad, knowing nod, resting her hand lightly over mine. "Featureless or not, it’s a bigger world than this one, Zinnia. Just remember to keep your eyes on your feet."
