Achlys stood over Charon before extending the pale crown down to him.
"This is now yours, boy. I pray you prove yourself worthy soon."
He took it gingerly, unsure how he felt about the item. It also reminded him of what she said about bonding with the artifact.
"Why do you have the crown, but the Warden didn't have anything?"
She tilted her head as if confused, her gaze lingering on his form, yet somehow looking beyond him. It took a moment for her to respond, and once she did, she sounded uncertain.
"It appears my brother willingly entered the union with you, therefore avoiding the requirement for an artifact. Once he has regained his strength, he should be able to manifest it for you to wield. When this happens is up to him."
Charon turned the crown in his hands, the mist curling faintly around its edges as if alive. The weight wasn't physical; if anything, it was light, almost insubstantial, but something about it pressed against his head just by holding it.
