The King's Curse

Chapter Five

The woman’s magic surged through the air, crackling like lightning as dark tendrils lashed out toward Kael. He barely had time to react, throwing himself to the side as the ground beneath him erupted into a jagged chasm, the force of her magic splitting the stone like a blade.

Lyra dove in front of Kael, her daggers flashing as she slashed at the tendrils, cutting through them with ease. “Kael! Snap out of it! We need to finish this!”

Kael’s heart pounded, the weight of the crown pressing down on his brow like a vice. The power of the crown was undeniable, but with it came an overwhelming urge to claim more, to become more. He could feel the voice in his mind, urging him forward. Take control, Kael. Rule, or be ruled.

“No,” he muttered to himself. “I won’t be like them.”

The woman in dark robes was circling, her eyes narrowing as she watched Kael struggle. “You think you can resist?” she called out, her voice rich with mocking amusement. “The crown will consume you, just as it consumed all who came before. You cannot control it. It controls you.”

Kael shook his head, his grip tightening on his sword. He wasn’t like the kings who had worn the crown before him. He wouldn’t let it define him. He had a choice, and he would make it.

The dragon circled above, its eyes locked onto Kael. The connection between them was undeniable. He could feel the dragon’s immense power, its primal instinct to protect its new master. It was bound to him now, a creature of legend forced to obey the one who wore the crown.

“Lyra,” Kael called, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. “Distract her. I have a plan.”

Lyra didn’t need to ask twice. She darted forward, her movements a blur of deadly grace. The woman’s magic snapped at her like the jaws of a beast, but Lyra was too fast, her daggers flashing in the dim light as she deflected the energy with practiced ease.

The woman hissed in frustration, her eyes flashing dangerously. “You think you can defeat me? I have waited centuries for this!”

Kael could feel the power of the crown thrumming in his veins, pushing him, urging him to take control. He knew he had to act before the woman’s magic overwhelmed them both.

He turned his attention to the dragon, raising his hand and focusing on the connection that now bound them. The dragon’s massive form descended from the skies, its wings beating with the force of a storm. It landed with a ground-shaking thud beside Kael, its glowing eyes filled with an unspoken understanding.

“Together,” Kael whispered. The dragon’s roar rumbled in response, a deep, resonant sound that sent a shiver down Kael’s spine.

The woman smirked, unfazed by the dragon’s arrival. “You think the beast will help you? It is mine to command, just as you are. You are no more than a puppet.”

But Kael’s eyes locked onto hers, the weight of the crown pressing against his brow like an iron band. He wasn’t just a puppet. He was the king. And it was time to act like it.

With a roar, he raised his sword high, channeling the crown’s power through his body. Energy surged through his arm, and with a cry, he thrust his sword forward, sending a shockwave of pure force toward the woman.

The air crackled as the magic collided, the ground shaking with the intensity of the blast. The woman screamed as she was pushed back by the force, her magic faltering as the energy from Kael’s strike overwhelmed her.

Lyra, never one to waste an opportunity, lunged forward, her daggers aimed at the woman’s throat. The woman’s eyes widened in shock, but before she could react, Lyra’s blades found their mark, and with a final, pained gasp, the woman fell to the ground, her magic sputtering out.

Kael lowered his sword, panting from the exertion. The crown’s power still thrummed within him, but now, it felt different. More controlled. More his.

The Oathbound knight, who had been watching the battle with grim resolve, stepped forward, his warhammer still in hand. “The woman was a fool,” he said, his voice as cold as the steel of his armor. “She sought to control the crown, but she did not understand its power. You, Kael, are its true heir.”

Kael turned to face the knight, his eyes narrowing. “I never asked for this power.”

“You do not have to ask,” the knight replied. “The crown has chosen you. And with it, you inherit the kingdom of Eldrith—its enemies, its allies, its legacy.”

Kael felt the weight of the knight’s words settle over him. The power of the crown was not a gift—it was a burden. And now, it was his to carry.

“I don’t want the kingdom,” Kael said, his voice firm. “I don’t want its enemies. But I’ll fight to protect what’s left of it.”

The knight inclined his head in a gesture of respect. “Then you will make a fine king, Kael of Valmere. But be warned, there are others who seek the crown. They will come for you, and they will not rest until they have it.”

Kael’s eyes flickered to the dragon, still standing beside him, its massive form glowing with power. He didn’t know what the future held, but he knew one thing for certain—the crown’s curse was only the beginning.