Chapter 26
The Hollow Spire was no more.
Where once bone and flame had twisted into a tower of ancient power, now only scorched earth and a crater remained—deep, blackened, and quiet.
Too quiet.
Kael carried Eliendara in his arms, her breath shallow, her skin still glowing faintly with silver and gold. Her mother's form lay beside her, cocooned in stasis-light conjured by the final pulse of their joined souls. Alive. Safe.
But something in the air had changed.
Kael felt it first.
A prickling on the back of his neck.A weight behind his heartbeat.A heat that was not fire, but something older.
He turned.
In the center of the crater, rising from the charred stone like it had always been there, was a crown.
Wrought from scorched black metal and lined with seven jagged crimson stones, each pulsing like a dying star. The Scorched Crown.
A relic from the First Flame War.
It was once said to be the symbol of the original Gatekeeper—the first soul ever to seal the realm of the gods.
A crown that chose its ruler.
And never let them go.
Kael's grip on his blade tightened.
He had heard stories. Whispers.
The Scorched Crown didn't grant power.
It devoured it.
Fed on it.
It made its bearer stronger—yes.
But it made them something… other.
And now it was pulsing. Calling.
To her.
Eliendara stirred in his arms.
Her eyes fluttered open—clouded, then focused.
"What... is that?" she rasped.
Kael looked down at her.
"It's calling your name."
The crown's pulsing grew faster, more urgent.
And then—
A voice.
Not spoken aloud. Not echoed by any mouth.
But imprinted directly into their minds.
"You have reclaimed your soul.You have awakened the flame.You will take the crown."
Eliendara tried to sit up.
"No," she whispered. "I sealed that power for a reason."
The voice deepened, ancient, cracking like thunder inside bone.
"You sealed the gate.But you left the key.Now you must wear the lock itself."
Kael stepped forward, placing himself between the crown and her.
"She won't be your puppet."
The crown flared. The crater trembled.
And from the shadows behind it, figures emerged.
Six silhouettes.
Clad in cloaks of ash and glass, faces hidden by bone-white masks.
The former bearers of the crown.
Each one once a Gatekeeper.
Each one now... bound.
Trapped in deathless servitude.
They spoke in unison:
"She must wear the crown."
"Or the Seventh will rise again."
"This time, stronger."
Kael turned to Eliendara.
"You don't have to take it," he said. "We'll find another way."
But she was already walking forward.
Weak.
Bleeding.
Eyes locked on the crown.
Because deep inside, she knew—
The crown wasn't asking.
It was choosing.
And it had already decided.
She reached out...
Her fingers brushed the metal.
And the world turned white-hot.
🔮 Next Chapter Preview – Chapter 27: The Crowned Flame
Eliendara survives.
But she doesn't wake as herself.
Something ancient has returned with her—
Memories she never lived.Names she never spoke.And a voice inside her mind that won't stay silent.
The Crown has chosen.And it has begun to rewrite her fate