The survivors moved under the cover of night, their footsteps soft against the forest floor. The air was damp, and the faint rustle of leaves overhead whispered of rain to come. Elena led the way, her sword hanging at her side, its weight a constant reminder of the battle they had narrowly survived.
"Do you think they'll follow us?" Maren asked, walking close behind Elena. Her voice was quiet, but the fear in it was clear.
"They will," Cassian replied from the rear of the group. "But not tonight. Whoever called them off wants us alive—for now."
Elena glanced back at him, her brow furrowed. "Why? If Lucian wants us dead, why not finish the job when he had the chance?"
Cassian didn't answer immediately. His silver eyes gleamed in the faint moonlight as he scanned the forest. "Because Lucian doesn't just want to kill you. He wants to break you."
The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, no one spoke.
Elena turned her gaze back to the path ahead, her jaw tightening. Let him try.
By dawn, the forest began to thin, giving way to rolling hills dotted with jagged rocks and sparse trees. The group stopped at the crest of a hill, their eyes drawn to the ruins that lay below.
It was a castle—or what remained of one. Its walls were cracked and crumbling, its towers reduced to little more than rubble. Vines crept along the stone, and the faint glow of morning light cast eerie shadows across the ruins.
"What is this place?" Maren asked, her voice hushed.
Cassian stepped forward, his expression grim. "The Broken Crown. It was once a fortress for the rulers of this land. Long before Lucian took power."
Elena's chest tightened as she looked at the ruins. The air around the castle felt heavy, almost alive, as though it carried the weight of countless secrets.
"Why would Lucian leave it like this?" she asked.
"Fear," Cassian said simply. "The crown that once sat here was powerful—too powerful. Lucian destroyed the fortress, but he couldn't destroy the crown. So he left it here, buried under the ruins, hoping no one would find it."
Maren frowned, glancing at Elena. "Why does this feel like a terrible idea?"
Elena turned to the group, her voice steady. "Because it is. But if there's even a chance that something in those ruins can help us, we have to try."
Cassian nodded, though his expression remained wary. "Then we move carefully. The crown's power won't be unguarded."
The ruins were eerily quiet as they descended into the castle grounds. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and stone, and every step seemed to echo louder than it should.
Elena moved cautiously, her sword drawn, her senses sharp. She could feel it now—the faint hum of magic in the air, pulling her deeper into the ruins.
"Do you feel that?" she asked Cassian, her voice low.
He nodded, his silver eyes scanning the shadows. "The crown's power. It's still here."
As they moved through the crumbling halls, they found remnants of the past—broken banners, shattered shields, and rusted weapons scattered across the ground. The castle had been abandoned for decades, but it felt as though something still lingered in the shadows.
"This place gives me the creeps," Maren muttered, her bow drawn and ready.
"You're not wrong to be afraid," Cassian said quietly. "The crown doesn't just attract power. It corrupts it."
Elena glanced at him. "Then why are we here?"
"Because sometimes, the thing that corrupts is the only thing that can save," he replied.
They reached the heart of the castle—a massive chamber with a high, crumbling ceiling. At its center stood a pedestal, its surface etched with runes that pulsed faintly with light. And atop the pedestal sat the Broken Crown.
It was a twisted thing, made of jagged black metal that seemed to shift and shimmer in the dim light. Red stones glowed faintly along its edges, and the air around it crackled with energy.
Elena approached slowly, her breath catching in her throat. The crown's pull was stronger here, its magic humming through her veins.
"Careful," Cassian warned, his hand on his sword. "The crown's power isn't easily tamed."
Elena stopped just short of the pedestal, her gaze fixed on the crown. It was beautiful in its cruelty, a relic of a time long past.
"Does it work?" Maren asked, keeping her distance.
Cassian stepped closer, his expression dark. "It works. But it demands a price."
Elena turned to him, her voice steady. "What kind of price?"
"The same as the Rose Crown," Cassian said. "It will take something from you. Something you may never get back."
Elena's chest tightened. She thought of the trials she had endured, the sacrifices she had already made. Her heart, her innocence—what more could the crown take?
"Do we even know if it's worth it?" Maren asked, her voice filled with doubt.
Elena reached out, her fingers brushing the cold metal of the crown. The air around her seemed to shift, the faint whisper of voices filling her ears.
"It's worth it," she said softly, her gaze unwavering. "Because we don't have another choice."
Cassian stepped forward, his silver eyes sharp. "If you do this, there's no going back."
Elena turned to him, her jaw set. "There hasn't been any going back for a long time."
The moment her hands closed around the crown, the chamber erupted with light. Magic surged through the air, a violent, crackling force that shook the walls and sent dust raining from the ceiling.
Elena gasped, her body trembling as the crown's power coursed through her. It was overwhelming—blinding and suffocating, but also exhilarating.
"Elena!" Cassian shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of magic.
She dropped to her knees, clutching the crown as visions filled her mind. Images of fire and blood, of kingdoms rising and falling, of power so vast it threatened to consume her.
"You must choose," a voice echoed in her mind, deep and resonant. "Will you wield this power, or will it wield you?"
Elena clenched her teeth, her breath ragged. "I'll wield it," she whispered. "But only for them. Only for my people."
The crown's magic pulsed, the energy around her beginning to calm. Slowly, the light dimmed, and the chamber fell silent once more.
When Elena opened her eyes, she was still kneeling, the crown clutched tightly in her hands.
Cassian knelt beside her, his silver eyes filled with concern. "Are you all right?"
Elena nodded slowly, though her body still trembled. "I think so."
Maren approached cautiously, her bow still in hand. "Did it work?"
Elena rose to her feet, her grip on the crown firm. She could feel its power now, humming beneath her skin. It was hers, but she knew it would come at a cost.
"It worked," she said, her voice steady. "And now we have a chance."
As they left the ruins, the crown's weight in her hands felt heavier than it should have. Elena glanced back at the crumbling castle one last time, the echoes of its magic still lingering in the air.
This is what it takes, she thought. This is what we'll use to end him.
And with the Broken Crown in her grasp, she led her people forward—toward the storm that awaited them.