WHEN CROWNS BEGIN TO SHATTER
1183 Words
The water was too still.
Aeloria knelt by the stream, scrubbing dried blood from her fingers. The forest had quieted after the Wraith’s retreat, but it was not peaceful. It felt like something holding its breath.
She dipped her hands again.
Cold water rippled outward.
Her reflection stared back at her — pale, exhausted, golden eyes dimmer than before.
She exhaled slowly.
The reflection did not.
It smiled.
Just slightly.
Aeloria froze.
The smile widened a fraction too late to be natural.
Her pulse spiked.
“You are almost ready,” the reflection whispered.
The voice did not come from the air.
It came from the water.
The stream darkened, ink bleeding through clear current.
Behind her, the witch ally inhaled sharply. “Step away.”
Aeloria jerked back as the water surged upward like a hand reaching for her face.
The lion inside her stirred violently.
Not in fear.
In recognition.
The water fell back into place.
Still.
Normal.
The forest resumed breathing.
But something had changed.
The ancient thing was no longer distant.
It was close enough to test her reflection.
In Virelle’s palace, Prince Kael stood before the High Council.
The chamber was circular, domed in black marble. Twelve elders watched him with measured calculation.
“You allowed her to escape,” one said calmly.
“I was not defeated,” Kael replied.
A murmur of doubt traveled the room.
Another elder placed an ancient scroll upon the table. The parchment was brittle, ink faded but clear enough.
A symbol was drawn at the center.
The same symbol that had burned across the sky.
The same shape now faintly etched across Kael’s chest.
“This sigil,” the elder said, “belongs to a bloodline erased from history.”
Kael’s expression remained still.
The elder continued, “They called themselves celestial heirs. They attempted to claim the throne three centuries ago. The war that followed nearly ended this kingdom.”
The room darkened as clouds rolled over the palace windows.
“She may be connected,” another council member said carefully. “If rival nations learn of her, they will seek her.”
“To control her,” someone added.
“To weaponize her.”
“To crown her.”
Kael felt the mark on his chest burn.
A flash of fear that wasn’t his pierced his mind.
Aeloria.
Something was watching her.
The elder’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You will bring her in. Alive if possible. Dead if necessary.”
The words hit like iron.
The mark flared painfully.
Kael stiffened.
And for the first time in years—
He hesitated.
At the edge of the northern cliffs, Rohan’s breath fogged in silver mist.
The spirit wolf emerged before him, luminous beneath the moon.
“Again,” the voice echoed in his mind.
Rohan lifted his hands. Lunar energy wrapped around his forearms like armor, flickering unstable.
He gritted his teeth.
“I won’t fail.”
The wolf lunged.
They clashed in a burst of silver light.
This time, Rohan did not retreat.
He stepped into the strike, letting instinct guide him.
The wolf dissolved into him instead of overpowering him.
Silver armor solidified across his chest.
Control.
Finally.
Behind him, Seraphina clapped excitedly before quickly covering her mouth.
“That was very heroic,” she whispered.
Then her smile faltered.
Her gaze shifted toward the horizon.
“Do you feel that?”
Rohan’s wolf stirred uneasily.
A pressure.
Not dark.
Not light.
Ancient.
Seraphina swallowed. “My father has a word for beings like her.”
Rohan looked at her.
“What word?”
She hesitated.
“Cataclysm.”
The sky flickered faintly above them.
The same symbol beginning to form.
That night, Aeloria did not fall asleep.
Sleep dragged her under.
She stood in a field of ash.
The air tasted like lightning.
Broken crowns lay scattered across the ground.
She was not alone.
Kael stood several paces away, blood streaking down his temple.
The golden mark glowed between them.
“You’re in my dreams now?” she asked bitterly.
“I didn’t choose this,” he replied.
Wind lifted ash between them.
“Why are you always in my way?” she demanded.
His voice softened in a way it never did in waking life. “Why do you feel like something I’ve been searching for?”
Her heart stuttered.
The bond pulsed violently.
They stepped closer without realizing it.
The ground beneath them cracked.
In the distance, something watched.
Crowned in light.
Unblinking.
They reached toward each other—
The dream shattered.
They both woke gasping.
Miles apart.
Equally shaken.
Beneath the earth, the coven completed their circle.
Star shard at the center.
Royal blood mixed with ash.
A spirit-binding relic hovering above the sigil.
The eldest witch lifted her hands.
“Open.”
The air tore.
Light poured downward, not upward.
The chamber trembled.
A silhouette formed within the rift.
Tall.
Radiant.
Crowned.
“She is not yours,” the voice said calmly.
Several witches fell to their knees.
The eldest did not.
“Everything divine can be harvested,” she replied.
The crowned figure’s gaze shifted.
Not at the coven.
Through them.
Toward the surface.
Toward Aeloria.
The rift snapped shut violently.
The mirror remnants exploded into dust.
Above ground—
The sky split.
Aeloria fell to one knee as the symbol burned across the heavens.
The witch ally cursed under her breath. “It’s calling.”
Far away, Kael staggered against a balcony railing.
Rohan’s wolf howled.
Seraphina’s eyes flashed crimson with fear.
All of them felt it.
A pull.
Magnetic.
Unavoidable.
They arrived at the ruin separately.
Ancient stone pillars jutted from the earth like broken ribs.
Lightning cracked above.
Aeloria stepped into the clearing first.
Moments later—
Kael emerged from shadow.
They stared at each other.
Breathless.
Conflicted.
“You felt it too,” she said.
“Yes.”
Silver energy flared behind them.
Rohan landed at the edge of the ruin, lunar armor shimmering.
His eyes locked on Kael.
Tension ignited instantly.
“You,” Rohan said quietly.
Kael’s gaze sharpened. “You carry celestial disturbance.”
“And you carry shadow arrogance,” Rohan replied.
Magic sparked.
The air thickened.
Aeloria stepped between them. “Not now.”
The ground trembled.
All three froze.
Stone cracked open at the center of the ruin.
A massive circular door rose slowly from beneath the earth.
Carved into its surface—
A lion of flame.
A wolf of moonlight.
And a crown split perfectly down the middle.
The witch ally appeared at the treeline, horror etched across her face.
“No,” she whispered.
“It’s the First Seal.”
The symbol in the sky aligned directly above the ruin.
The door groaned open.
Darkness breathed out.
Not empty darkness.
Waiting darkness.
The ground gave way beneath their feet.
They fell.
Light and shadow and silver colliding as they plunged into the abyss together.
Above them, the ruin sealed shut.
The sky returned to normal.
But deep below—
Something ancient opened its eyes.
And it recognized her.
- Writer
