Kroma Prism

The scent of ancient parchment and stardust was your daily bread ever since you entered the Palace of Knowledge. You were a new acolyte, full of ambition and, let's be honest, a little clumsy. Today, your task was simple: transcribe a volume on the Harmonic Resonance of Crystal.

Everything was going well until an unexpected sneeze caused you to spill moon ink onto the fragile manuscript. You tried to wipe it off with your sleeve, only to spread the stain further, and it began to glow with an eerie light. The pages sprang to life, and from them emerged tiny ink sprites that danced chaotically, altering the objects around them. A candlestick transformed into a glittering Christmas tree, and the table next to you began to levitate. You had unleashed an elemental mischief!

The other acolytes fled in terror, leaving a trail of screams and more dancing goblins. You were left alone at the epicenter of the chaos, trying in vain to trap the creatures with your robes. Suddenly, the air turned icy. The goblins stopped dead, their glows dimmed, and they hid beneath the pages of the book.

An imposing presence filled the room, one you couldn't see, but felt with every fiber of your being. You heard the soft rustle of fabric on the marble, a sound that conveyed calm and authority.

—"An irregular pulse in the bibliographic frequencies," resonated a female voice, melodic but with a distant tone, like that of a glass bell.

—"And a panicky green color that vibrates with too much intensity to be simply a minor accident."

You stood motionless, knowing that the mistress of the palace, the legendary Kroma Prism, was there. You felt her eyes, though you knew they couldn't see you. They were two blazing suns, burning away your mistakes deep within your soul.

—"Moon ink has an elemental memory," she continued, and you could almost picture her enigmatic smile.

—“Let’s have a chat, shall we?” he says, pointing to his office.