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Chapter 18 – A Crown of Shadows
Last Updated:
2025-02-23 15:00:51
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The forest was dead silent.No more growls. No more whispers in the wind.Only the echoes of Elior’s power remained, crackling in the air like a storm that had just passed but left destruction in its wake. The others hadn’t moved—not yet. They stood frozen, their expressions shifting between awe and unease.Sienna was the first to break the silence. “Elior…” Her voice was soft, hesitant.He barely heard her.His body still hummed with power, every nerve alight with the force he had just unleashed. The Crown had awakened—and it had answered him.Rael was watching him carefully, his silver eyes unreadable. “You felt it, didn’t you?”Elior clenched his jaw. “I controlled it.”Rael’s lips twitched, not quite a smirk. “Did you?”Elior exhaled sharply. He wanted to say yes, to claim that the power was his, that it had bent to his will and not the other way around. But something about Rael’s tone made him pause. Had he truly commanded the Crown? Or had it simply tested him, letting him belie
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The moment Elior embraced the Crown’s power, everything changed.The forest, the battle, the fear—none of it mattered. All he could feel was the raw, electric energy coursing through him. It pulsed like a second heartbeat, filling the space around him with silver light. The air crackled as if the very world was reacting to the force he had unleashed.The Hollow Stalker snarled. For the first time, there was hesitation in its movements. The runes on its massive body pulsed erratically, reacting to Elior’s power.It recognized him.That thought sent a cold shiver through Elior’s spine, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. The beast lunged again, its massive claws slicing through the air.Elior moved instinctively. His enhanced speed carried him forward, his blade glowing with the same eerie energy that hummed beneath his skin. He swung—not to deflect, not to defend, but to strike.The blade met the Hollow Stalker’s thick hide, and the moment of impact sent a shockwave through the cle
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The air still crackled with lingering energy.Elior stood frozen, his heart slamming against his ribs. The Hollow Stalker had fallen, its massive form dissolving into tendrils of darkness that melted into the ground, leaving only a faint scorch where it had once stood. But the true battle—the one within—had only just begun.The Crown’s power still pulsed in his veins, a quiet whisper pressing against his mind. It had responded to him. Obeyed him. Or had it merely let him believe he was in control?The others hadn’t moved.Rael watched him with sharp, assessing eyes. Bram dusted himself off, still muttering curses under his breath. Sienna clutched her arms, avoiding his gaze. And Freya—she was the only one who stepped forward, her dagger still drawn, her blue eyes unreadable.“You shouldn’t have been able to do that,” she murmured.Elior exhaled sharply, forcing himself to step back, to feel the weight of his own body again. “I know.”Rael finally spoke, his voice cold. “The Crown’s po
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Myrra’s words hung in the air, thick with meaning. The chamber was deathly silent, save for the flickering torches casting jagged shadows across the stone walls. Where the first king fell.Elior’s pulse thrummed in his ears as he glanced at the others. Freya’s face was carefully neutral, but the sharp gleam in her eyes betrayed her thoughts—she was already analyzing this revelation, dissecting its possible meanings. Bram exhaled heavily, arms crossed over his chest in evident skepticism. Rael looked intrigued yet wary, while Sienna’s expression was unreadable. But her fingers twitched slightly, as if holding back a reaction.She knew something.Elior turned back to Myrra. “That place isn’t marked on any map.”Myrra’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “That depends on what kind of map you’re looking at.”Without another word, she strode toward the farthest wall of the chamber, her fingers brushing across the ancient glyphs carved into the stone. The air in the room shifted, thickening
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The name hung in the air like a whispered curse.Dawnfire.Elior turned the fragment of the shattered crown over in his hands. The blackened metal was ice-cold against his fingertips, but a strange warmth pulsed from the etching, as if the word itself was alive. A place. A legend. And now, their destination.“We need to move,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.Bram scoffed. “We don’t even know where the hell it is.”Myrra folded her arms, smirking. “Don’t we?”She stepped toward the crumbling shelves, brushing dust off an aged scroll. With careful hands, she unraveled the brittle parchment, revealing an intricate map. The ink was faded, but the details remained intact—mountains, rivers, long-forgotten cities. And there, marked in the deep south beyond the Vale of Shadows, was a name that made Elior’s breath catch in his throat.Dawnfire.Freya’s eyes scanned the map. “That region is cursed. No pack dares venture there.”“Which makes it the perfect place to hide the truth,” Rae
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The journey to Dawnfire was fraught with an eerie stillness, as if the land itself had been holding its breath for centuries. Elior and his companions moved cautiously, each footstep crunching softly against the dead leaves and brittle twigs that littered the forgotten path. The further they ventured, the more the air thickened, laced with something unseen yet undeniable—a weight of history pressing upon them.Sienna walked beside him, her gaze fixed ahead, her thoughts locked away behind an unreadable expression. Freya, ever alert, kept her hands near her weapons, her sharp eyes scanning the trees. Bram, despite his usual gruffness, had fallen into a rare silence, while Rael trailed behind, lost in thought.Myrra, however, walked with an odd sense of purpose. Unlike the others, she seemed unbothered by the haunting atmosphere, almost as if she belonged here. It unsettled Elior, but he kept his thoughts to himself. They needed her guidance.“Dawnfire is more than a place,” she had sai
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The ruins of Dawnfire pulsed with energy, an ancient force refusing to be forgotten. The air was thick with heat, the glowing runes beneath Elior’s feet still smoldering from the vision’s aftermath. His head throbbed from the echo of the voice—the presence that had spoken to him from beyond time.You are not ready.The words had been a warning, but also a challenge. Elior wasn’t sure which unsettled him more.He forced himself to his feet, steadying his breath. Around him, his companions were recovering in their own ways. Sienna rubbed her temples, her expression dark with thought. Freya’s grip on her blade was tight, ready to strike at unseen threats. Bram cursed under his breath, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the lingering sensation.Rael, however, was staring at the markings on the ground with an unreadable expression. His fingers traced the air above them, as if sensing something the rest of them couldn’t. Myrra stood apart, watching Elior.“You saw it,” she said
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The stone steps stretched endlessly before them, winding upward through the ruins in a spiral that seemed impossible in its vastness. The air was thinner here, charged with an unnatural energy that made the hairs on the back of Elior’s neck stand on end.As they climbed, the ruins around them seemed to shift, warping with each step. The sky above was no longer the deep blue of night, nor the pale glow of dawn, it was something else entirely, a swirling expanse of stars and golden light.“This place feels... wrong,” Rael muttered, glancing around. “Like it’s not part of our world.”“That’s because it isn’t,” Myrra said. She touched one of the stone walls, watching as her fingers passed through it like mist before solidifying again. “We’re somewhere in between.”“Between what?” Bram asked.Sienna, who had been silent for most of their ascent, finally spoke. “Between what was and what will be.”Elior glanced at her, noticing the way she kept her gaze fixed ahead, determined but distant.
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The air was thick with tension as Elior and his companions stood before the three doors. Each was adorned with shifting symbols, their patterns writhing like living things. The Architect loomed before them, their presence both commanding and ethereal, as if they existed beyond the confines of time itself.“The Trials of the Worthy will test more than your strength,” the Architect intoned, their voice reverberating in the vast emptiness. “They will weigh your purpose, your conviction, and the burdens you carry. Choose wisely, for only those who pass may proceed.”Rael ran a hand through his hair, his jaw set. “And what happens if we fail?”The Architect’s celestial mask tilted slightly. “You will not leave.”A heavy silence fell upon the group.Elior took a steady breath, staring at the doors. “There are three. Does that mean we each face them alone?”“No,” the Architect answered. “Each door presents a different trial. You may choose to enter as a group or face them separately, but kno
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Elior awoke with a gasp, the taste of lightning on his tongue. His chest ached, his head spun, and for a moment, he couldn’t tell if he was still standing in that vast luminous space or if he had been thrown somewhere else entirely. The ground beneath him was solid, but cracked, ashen dust rose around him as he pushed himself upright.He wasn’t alone.Rael lay sprawled a few feet away, groaning as he sat up, rubbing his temples. Myrra’s fingers twitched, her breath shallow as she stirred. Sienna was the last to move, her dark hair spilling over her face as she slowly lifted her head.Elior’s heart pounded. They were back.But something was wrong.The city of Dawnfarc stretched out before them, but it was empty, silent. The streets that had once been teeming with life were barren. The air was thick with dust, and the sky…Elior’s breath caught.The sky was broken.One half blazed red, a sun frozen at the edge of dusk. The other was swallowed by darkness, the moon looming too large, sur
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Light surged around Elior as he stepped forward, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer force of it. It wasn’t painful, nor was it warm or cold, it was simply there, wrapping around him, filling every space, stretching infinitely in all directions. The void had vanished, replaced by something greater, something older.His footsteps echoed on unseen ground, each step resonating through the vast expanse. Ahead of him, the First King waited, unmoving, his presence as unwavering as the stars themselves.“You have taken the first step,” the king said, his voice a deep hum within the luminous space. “But you have yet to understand the path you walk.”Elior squared his shoulders, determination hardening his stance. “Then tell me.”The First King’s gaze was unreadable, his expression carved from centuries of knowledge and sacrifice. “To rule is to bear the weight of all things. To shape the world is to accept its burdens, its flaws, its endless contradictions. What you seek is not a throne, not
