Chapter 20: The One Who Can End It
Morning came slowly.
Soft light filled the castle halls, touching the stone walls and long windows. Elara woke before the bells rang. She sat up in her bed, her heart still heavy from the night before.
The king's words echoed in her mind.
I am immortal.
I am bound to the crown.
You may be the one who can break it.
Elara touched the crown resting beside her pillow. It felt warm, alive, almost aware of her thoughts.
"Can I really do this?" she whispered.
The crown pulsed once, slow and calm.
After washing and dressing, Elara left her room. The castle was already awake. Servants moved quietly. Guards stood at their posts. But as Elara walked, she noticed something new.
People bowed.
Not deeply. Not with fear. But with respect.
Her chest tightened. They see me now, she thought. Not as a poor girl… but as something more.
She reached the eastern tower, where King Araion kept his private library. He had asked her to come that morning. When she entered, he was already there, standing near a tall window, hands behind his back.
"You came early," he said.
"So did you," Elara replied.
He turned and gave a small smile. It was rare, but real.
"Sit," he said, pointing to a table covered in old books and scrolls.
Elara sat, her eyes drawn to the symbols carved into the table. They glowed faintly as the crown reacted.
"These records are older than this kingdom," Araion said. "They speak of the crown, the curse, and something else."
Elara looked up. "Something else?"
He nodded. "A bond."
He opened an old book. The pages were yellowed and worn, but the writing was clear.
"Long before you were born," he said, "the crown was created to choose a ruler who could balance power and heart. Not strength alone. Not blood alone."
Elara listened closely.
"The crown failed," Araion continued. "Or rather… people failed it. Greed, fear, and pride twisted its purpose."
"And you cursed it," Elara said softly.
"Yes," he admitted. "But the curse did not erase its true design. It only buried it."
He looked at her then, his eyes serious.
"The crown responds to you because you awaken its original purpose."
Elara's breath caught. "So… what does that mean for the curse?"
Araion took a deep breath. "It means the curse can be broken."
Her heart raced. "How?"
He hesitated. "The records speak of a Chosen Queen. A bearer who does not seek power, but accepts it. One who can command the crown without being consumed."
Elara swallowed. "That sounds like a story."
Araion nodded. "I once believed it was only a legend. Until you survived."
Silence filled the room.
"And the curse on you?" Elara asked quietly. "Your immortality?"
Araion's voice dropped. "The curse is tied to the crown's obedience. If the crown returns to its true state… my bond to it will end."
Elara's hands trembled. "Meaning…"
"I will become mortal," he said.
Her heart tightened painfully.
"You could die," she whispered.
"Yes," he said simply. "As all men do."
Elara stood suddenly. "That's dangerous. What if it goes wrong? What if breaking the curse destroys you?"
Araion watched her carefully. "That is why I did not tell you everything before."
"Because you were afraid?" she asked.
"Yes," he said honestly. "And because I did not want to place this burden on you."
Elara paced the room. Her thoughts raced.
"I never asked for this," she said. "I was just trying to survive."
"I know," Araion said gently. "That is why the crown chose you."
She stopped and looked at him. "So what is my role?"
Araion closed the book.
"You must fully awaken the crown," he said. "Not as a weapon. Not as a throne. But as a bond."
"A bond between what?" Elara asked.
"Between ruler and people," he replied. "Between power and mercy. And between you… and me."
Her breath caught.
"The curse was born from fear and loss," Araion said. "It can only be broken by trust and choice."
Elara felt the weight of his words sink into her chest.
"So I don't just wear the crown," she said slowly. "I change what it is."
"Yes," he replied.
The crown pulsed strongly now, reacting to her understanding.
Suddenly, Elara felt dizzy. The room blurred. She reached for the table, but before she could fall, Araion was there, steadying her.
The crown glowed brightly.
Images filled her mind.
A golden throne untouched by blood.
A king kneeling, not in weakness, but in trust.
A queen standing beside him—not behind.
A crown glowing without darkness.
Elara gasped and pulled back.
"What was that?" she asked.
Araion stared at her, stunned. "You saw it."
"I didn't choose it," she said. "It just… showed me."
He nodded slowly. "The crown is beginning to reveal the path."
Elara sat down again, shaken.
"This means people will come for me," she said. "If they learn I can break the curse…"
"They already are," Araion said quietly. "Some will fear you. Some will try to control you. Some will want you gone."
Elara lifted her chin. "Then I'll face them."
Araion studied her, pride and worry in his eyes.
"You are not ready yet," he said. "But you will be."
"What do I need to do?" Elara asked.
"Learn," he replied. "Grow. Rule. And choose."
"Choose what?" she asked.
Araion met her gaze.
"When the time comes," he said, "you must choose whether the crown ends… or continues."
Her heart ached. "And you?"
"I will accept whatever you decide," he said. "That is the price of trust."
The crown pulsed softly, almost sadly.
Elara stood and faced the window. The kingdom spread below her—homes, markets, lives.
"I won't rush this," she said. "But I won't run from it either."
Araion nodded. "That is all I ask."
As she left the tower, Elara felt different.
Not chosen.
Not trapped.
But responsible.
For the first time, she understood the truth:
She was not meant to rule because of the crown.
The crown existed because of her.
And one day—when she was ready—
She would decide the fate of an immortal king…
And the end of a curse that had lasted centuries.