Chapter 4 The price of power

The platform screamed.

Not aloud but through the stone, through the sigils, through the blood-soaked runes that drank greedily from the fallen traitor at my feet.

The vibration surged up my legs, rattling my bones, as if the chamber itself had drawn breath for the first time in centuries.

The king pulled me back sharply, yanking me against his chest as the floor split open with a thunderous crack.

“Do not let go,” he ordered, voice low and lethal.

“I......I didn’t do this,” I gasped.

“Not consciously,” he replied. “That may be worse.”

The raised platform fractured down the center. Ancient stone groaned as a spiral stair emerged from the darkness below, each step slick with shadow and old magic.

A heat rose from the opening thick, suffocating, carrying the stench of iron and ash.

The Crown pulsed one then twice ..

With every beat, the sigil over my heart burned hotter, as if it were being branded deeper into my flesh.

I bit back a scream, nails digging into the king’s armored chest.

From below came a sound that was not quite a roar.

It was laughter. Low ancient and Patient.

The king swore viciously. “It’s waking far too soon.”

Another impact shook the chamber. Stone shattered near the doors as more rebels forced their way through, their shouts echoing wildly as they took in the scene .The cracked altar, the blood-slick runes, the king standing protectively before a queen who glowed like a living weapon.

Fear flickered across their faces.

Then greed replaced it.

“For the eastern houses!” one of them shouted. “Take the Crown-bearer alive!”

"Alive".....The word wrapped around my spine like ice.

Shadows surged outward again as the king advanced, his power erupting in a violent wave.

Two soldiers were flung screaming into the far wall, armor crumpling like parchment. Another lunged low, blade flashing......I moved.

Not because the Crown commanded me.

Because I chose to.

I stepped forward, placing myself beside the king instead of behind him.

The sigil flared in answer, power answering power, and the air thickened until every breath felt like dragging steel through my lungs.

“Do not,” the king snapped, half-turning toward me.

“I won’t be hidden,” I said hoarsely. “Not anymore.”

The soldier froze mid-strike.

His eyes widened as invisible pressure crushed down upon him, forcing him to his knees. Blood streamed from his nose, his ears, as the magic bent him inward like a broken thing.

I felt it, every fracture, every scream trapped inside his skull.

Horror slammed into me.

“Stop,” I whispered. The magic obeyed.

The man collapsed unconscious, breathing shallow but alive.

The king stared at me, not with fear but with something far more dangerous....."Recognition".

“You’re shaping it,” he said slowly. “Not just wielding it.”

The laughter from below deepened.

A voice rose from the stairwell, layered and echoing, neither male nor female—yet somehow both.

At last..... The shadows recoiled.

Even the king stiffened.

“What is that?” I whispered.

“The First Sovereign,” he replied grimly. “The one who forged the Crown under the Blood Moon. The thing that never truly died.”

The stone beneath our feet split wider as a massive shape began to ascend. Chains older than language, etched with broken crowns and shattered names dragged across the steps, glowing faintly red.

A figure emerged.

Tall. Cloaked in darkness. Its face was a shifting blur, as though reality itself refused to decide what it should look like. But its eyes......

Its eyes were fixed on me.

And they burned the same crimson as the Moon above.

Queen, it breathed.

The word slammed into my chest, stealing my breath.

“No,” the king growled, stepping forward. “She is not yours.”

The entity laughed again. She already is.

The sigil over my heart blazed blinding white, pain tearing through me so violently I screamed. I dropped to my knees, fingers clawing at my chest as if I could rip the mark out myself.

Memories flooded me memories that were not mine.

A throne carved from bone. A city burning beneath a red sky.

A queen standing alone, crowned in shadow, smiling as the world knelt.

I saw her face....... it was ......My face.

“No,” I sobbed. “That’s not me.”

It will be, the Sovereign crooned. You were chosen because you are capable of what the others feared.

The king knelt beside me, gripping my face, forcing my gaze to meet his. “Listen to me,” he said urgently. “That voice is lying. It wants to hollow you out and wear you like a crown.”

Tears blurred my vision. “I can feel it inside me.”

“I know,” he said softly. “Because I feel you too.”

The bond flared—sharp, intimate, terrifying. His pain bled into mine, his rage, his restraint stretched to breaking. I felt his curse coil tighter, reacting violently to the Sovereign’s presence.

“You must anchor,” he continued. “To something that is yours....not the Crown’s.”

The Sovereign snarled, the sound shaking the chamber. He will fall, all kings do.

The king rose slowly, placing himself between me and the ancient entity. Shadows wrapped around him like wings of night, his power surging in defiance.

“I have not fallen yet,” he said coldly.

The Sovereign’s gaze slid back to me. Command him.

The word echoed inside my skull.

Command. The bond pulled—tempting, seductive. I could feel it, the terrifying truth of it: I could bend him, break him and make him kneel again.

My hands shook.

“I won’t,” I whispered.

The Sovereign hissed. You already have.

The king stiffened.

Slowly against his will he sank to one knee.

“No!” I cried. “Stop.....stop listening to me"

But the bond was spiraling, power feeding power, the Crown screaming for dominance.

The Blood Moon darkened further, its light turning almost black as if bleeding into the sky.

The Sovereign spread its chained arms. Let the reign begin.

The chamber erupted.

Sigils tore free from the floor, spinning violently around us.

Stone collapsed as the palace above groaned in protest. Screams echoed distantly courtiers, guards, innocents caught in the backlash of awakening magic.

The king fought it, muscles shaking, teeth clenched as shadows lashed wildly around him.

“You must choose,” he strained. “Me or it.”

My chest burned like fire.

If I chose him, the Crown would resist.

If I chose the Crown.....I didn’t finish the thought.

I grabbed his face with both hands, pressing my forehead to his. “Stay with me,” I whispered fiercely. “Do not kneel, do not leave me alone with this.”

For a heartbeat, everything stilled.

The bond surged not as command, but as connection.

The king gasped sharply, power snapping back into alignment as he rose, free once more.

The Sovereign shrieked in fury, chains rattling violently as cracks spread across its form.

This is not over, it hissed ...blood will decide.

The platform shattered completely.

We fell.

The world vanished in darkness and screaming stone as the chamber collapsed, the Blood Moon’s light swallowed whole.......

And somewhere in the void, the Crown laughed.