The wind smelled like blood.
Vael walked forward. Slowly. Each step heavy, the crown pressing hard against his head. The whispers had become quiet, but he knew they were still there.
Waiting.
He remembered what the creature had said.
"You're one of us… and you don't even know it."
What did that mean?
His fingers curled. The dried blood on his hands cracked. He didn't care. Questions were just noise now. He didn't need them. All that mattered was moving forward.
The forest road twisted and turned. The trees grew taller here. Their black branches reaching towards the sky like. The deeper he went, the less the world felt real.
Then he felt it.
Something watching him.
Not a person. Not like the creature from before. This was… older.
Colder.
Vael stopped walking. His breath was calm, but his body tensed. The crown pulsed like it had noticed too.
And then—
A voice.
"You walk a cursed path."
It wasn't a whisper. It wasn't like the crown. This voice was clear. Strong.
Vael turned.
Someone stood ahead, half-hidden in mist.
Tall. Wrapped in torn robes that moved like smoke. A hood covered their face, but their eyes burned silver in the dark—like small flames.
Vael's hand went to his sword. "Who are you?"
The figure took one step closer. "A messenger."
He didn't like how that sounded. Like they were bringing something he couldn't avoid.
"What do you want?" , he asked.
The figure didn't blink. Didn't breathe. "To warn you."
Vael's jaw tightened. "I don't need warnings."
A pause. Then the figure spoke again.
"The crown you wear is not a gift. It's a wound. One that will never stop bleeding."
The air grew heavier. Something deep inside him shifted—but he pushed it down.
He already knew the crown came with a price.
The figure tilted their head. "You think you understand. But you don't."
Vael stepped forward. "Then explain it."
Silence.
Then—
A sharp sound rang out.
And pain.
Vael's eyes dropped. His chest burned.
A mark had appeared on his skin—black, cracked, spreading from beneath the crown like broken glass.
He stumbled.
The whispers returned, louder than ever. Screaming.
The figure's voice grew faint. "The Hollow has claimed you."
Vael's teeth clenched. His vision blurred. The mark pulsed again.
And for the first time since he put on the crown—
He felt fear.
Then everything went black.