The Weight of the Dark Crown

The darkness now felt less distant, more familiar. It was like a second skin that molded to Elysiel with every step. Her movements, once light and graceful like the breeze, now carried a heaviness she couldn't deny. She felt the magic flowing through her body, powerful yet altered, as if the force sustaining her was in constant collision with something new and relentless.

She moved through the corridors of Elandor, but she felt she was no longer the same. The pact with Seraphis had done more than bring a temporary solution to the plague; it had brought an irreversible change within her. 

Even the architecture of the castle seemed different. The large stained-glass windows, once vibrant and full of light, now cast unusual shadows on the walls. There was no doubt: the darkness Seraphis had brought was seeping into every aspect of life in Elandor.

The murmurs among the people continued to grow. Elysiel could feel them whenever she passed through the halls or walked the gardens. The fairies, once so confident in her, now watched her with cautious and distrustful eyes. She didn't need to hear their whispers to know what they said. The princess has changed. Something is wrong. She made a dark pact.

The weight of these suspicions was nearly unbearable. Being responsible for saving her people had led her down a dangerous path, and now she was paying the price with her very soul. Elysiel wanted to maintain control, to prove that the pact had been a necessary decision. But more and more, she felt as though her kingdom was slipping away from her—or perhaps it was she who was slipping away from her kingdom.

Yet, there was one presence that never seemed to leave her. Seraphis.

Since the pact, he was always nearby, sometimes just a shadow at the periphery, other times at her side, whispering enigmatic words and promises of power. Now, in the castle's silence, his presence was unmistakable. He was there again, and Elysiel knew he would not let her escape her fate.

Seraphis appeared before her, his black wings folded elegantly against his back. His red eyes glowed with an intensity that made her feel small and yet more powerful at the same time. It was a paradox that disturbed her—Seraphis made her feel capable of anything, but he also reminded her how much of herself she was losing.

— The shadows seem heavier on you today, Elysiel. — Seraphis's voice was soft but carried an unyielding authority. He stepped closer, his footsteps echoing on the cold marble of the castle.

— The weight of the kingdom is on me. — She replied, trying to keep her posture firm. — My people distrust me. No matter what I do, they look at me as if I am the source of the darkness that has taken this place.

Seraphis observed her with his red eyes, a hint of a smile on his lips.

— And you are. — He said, his words direct and cutting. — You accepted this burden. And with it, the power to protect what you love. Your people don't understand it now, but soon they will. True leadership does not come without sacrifices. They fear what they do not understand. But eventually, they will accept the new order you've brought to this kingdom. Light and darkness, together.

A chill ran down Elysiel's spine. Seraphis's words, though true, were difficult to accept. She had made the pact to save her people, but now it seemed that instead of bringing protection, she had brought a suffocating shadow over them.

— You speak as if it's inevitable. — Elysiel responded, her voice laced with frustration. — But they loved me, Seraphis. Now, all I see in their eyes is fear.

Seraphis took another step toward her, close enough that Elysiel could feel the warmth of the darkness emanating from him.

— Love and fear go hand in hand, Elysiel. The power you have now demands both. You wanted to be your people's savior, and that is what you've become. But salvation never comes without consequences. The sooner you accept that, the stronger you will be.

She wanted to resist those words, to say that he was mistaken. But the truth was that Elysiel knew Seraphis was right. The power that now pulsed through her veins wasn't pure goodness; it was a power that blended light and darkness, and learning to control it would be the only way to protect her kingdom.

Elysiel remained silent for a moment, her eyes turning to the distant trees beyond the castle walls. Light and shadow danced between the branches, reflecting the internal battle she was fighting.

— I will keep doing whatever it takes to protect Elandor. — She finally said, her voice firm, though there was a melancholy in her words.

Seraphis tilted his head slightly, as if satisfied with her determination.

— You already have, Elysiel. Now, all that remains is to accept the consequences. The power you feel, the darkness rooting itself in you… these are the tools you will use to rule. And, in time, you will learn to wield them with mastery.

Seraphis extended his hand, and although Elysiel hesitated, she accepted his touch. His skin was cold, but the warmth of the power flowing between them was undeniable. 

In the distance, a familiar sound approached. The sound of Arabella's wings cutting through the air announced her arrival. Elysiel felt a tightness in her chest. She knew her friend continued to fight against what was happening, to fear what Elysiel was becoming. And this tension between them was another weight Elysiel did not know how to carry.

Arabella landed softly on the castle terrace, her expression stern. Her eyes immediately fixed on Seraphis, as they always did. The distrust in her face was evident, and Elysiel felt the conflict growing.

— We need to talk. — Arabella said bluntly, ignoring Seraphis's presence as if he weren't there. — Something is happening in the kingdom. I've been hearing whispers among the soldiers and advisors. They're… divided about you. And it's becoming dangerous.

Elysiel turned to Arabella, trying to mask the discomfort she felt at seeing her in such a state. She knew her friend wanted to protect her, but she also knew that Arabella would never fully accept what was happening.

— I know, Arabella. — Elysiel said calmly. — But what do you want me to do? I made the pact to save Elandor. It cannot be undone.

Arabella clenched her fists, her frustration clear.

— I'm not talking about the pact. I'm talking about how the kingdom is fracturing. The people fear the shadow that Seraphis brought with him, and if this continues, it won't just be a plague we face. It will be a revolt.

Elysiel felt the weight of Arabella's words intensify. She knew fear and division were growing, but what Arabella was suggesting seemed even more terrifying.

— Then what do you suggest? — Elysiel asked, trying to maintain control over her emotions.

Arabella hesitated for a moment, her eyes briefly turning to Seraphis, who watched the scene with a cold smile.

— Maybe it's time to rethink this pact. Or at least, find a way to keep Seraphis… more distant.

Seraphis's smile faded slightly, and Elysiel could feel the tension rising. Arabella was playing a dangerous game, and Elysiel knew that if she went too far, the consequences would be devastating.

— Be careful what you suggest, Arabella. — Seraphis's voice cut through the air, soft but threatening. — Elysiel and I are bound now. This pact cannot be undone. And you would do well not to interfere.

Elysiel felt the situation slipping from her control, the conflicting forces between her desire to protect the kingdom and the darkness now surrounding her becoming overwhelming. Her heart weighed heavy with the impossible choice before her.