The sound of birds chirping…
The rustle of bushes…
The soft flow of wind brushing through the trees…
The crash of waves against distant rocks...
All of it echoed ,distant, yet piercing.
Alarion stirred.
A blinding headache surged through his skull like a spike of lightning. His body felt oddly light… untouched. But his mind ,his mind was chaos.
At first, there was nothing. A moment of empty silence. Then..
It hit.
Like a storm unleashed from the heavens, his memories crashed down, not in gentle waves, but in thunderous roars.
Images. Screams. Blood.
Elaria.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Alarion screamed, clutching both sides of his head, veins bulging against his temples like they were about to explode.
"MAKE IT STOP!! STOP!! AHHHH!!"
It didn't stop.
The flood of memory came in pulses...every five seconds, a new surge more vicious than the last. As if some twisted force was dragging him through each moment, over and over.
"AHHHHH!!"
Then...silence.
He gasped, shoulders trembling. Relief, for just a second.
And then...
Another surge. Sharper. Louder. More cruel.
"AHHHHHH!! AHHHHHHHH! NO MORE! Please… no more…"
He collapsed to his knees, screaming so violently his voice cracked.
The birds had long stopped singing. The forest had gone dead silent. Even the air felt afraid to move.
But Alarion didn't notice.
Inside his mind, a war was raging and he was losing.
His breath trembled..uneven, ragged. Every inhale scraped his throat like thorns. His eyes burned, wide open, yet seeing nothing but shadows of what had been.
Elaria.
Her laughter.
Her pride.
Her soft voice calling his name.
Gone.
"No…"
The whisper escaped him, broken.
He staggered forward, crawling through the forest floor like a wounded animal. His fingers dug into the soil, pulling himself inch by inch toward her.
There she was.
Still.
Too still.
Her face,no longer bloodied, no longer torn. Just… quiet.
Too quiet.
He collapsed beside her. Hands trembling, he reached out, brushing a strand of silver hair from her cheek. It was soft. Warm, even.
But no breath.
"Please…"
His voice cracked like dry glass.
"I'm sorry…"
He pulled her closer, arms wrapped around her fragile body.
"I should've protected you."
Tears fell freely now, soaking into her cloak.
"I should've been stronger."
The wind stirred the trees gently, but the forest made no sound.
He held her tighter.
"Why…?"
Then..
Out of the corner of his eye...
Something glinted.
The crate.
It had been thrown far in the chaos.
Still intact.
His eyes locked onto it.
His breathing slowed.
For a moment, the fog of grief parted,
Replaced by something else.
Hope?
He stared at it. Unmoving. Unblinking.
His heart pounded. But his body… didn't move.
He didn't want to look.
Didn't want to need it.
Because what if it didn't work?
What if I touch it and nothing happens?
What if it ignores me?
What if it's all just a lie?
He clenched his fists.
But what choice do I have?
She's dying. No....she's already dead. And I... I can't accept that.
He looked back at her.
At her still face.
The strands of hair caught in the wind.
He swallowed the rising panic.
Slowly....like his limbs were made of stone ,he stood up.
Every step toward the crate felt like betrayal.
If I take this… if I use it… what does that make me?
A thief of fate?
A coward clinging to impossible hope?
Or just a desperate boy too afraid to let go?
He reached the crate.
Kneeling beside it, his hand hovered over the lid.
Don't do this.
Do it.
You have to.
He gritted his teeth.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to Elaria, to himself, to something far above or deep below.
Then ..he opened it.
The Crown sat inside. Unmoving. Silent.
He stared at it.
It looked so… ordinary. So small. How could something so small be the answer?
With a trembling hand, he reached out.
His fingers brushed the surface....
Nothing.
No hum.
No glow.
No surge of power.
Just cold metal.
He picked it up.
Still nothing.
His breath caught in his throat.
"No… come on…"
He pressed it to his chest, to his head, to the ground.
He clutched it like a lifeline.
Still...nothing.
His body began to shake.
Not from pain. From fear.
"What am I doing…?"
The words slipped out in a whisper.
"I don't even know how this works…"
He screamed suddenly,wordless, furious.
And hurled the Crown against the nearest tree.
It bounced. Rolled.
And came to rest at his feet. Mocking him.
He fell to his knees.
Breathless.
Empty.
"…It's not real."
He laughed. A broken, hollow sound.
"…It was never real."