CHAPTER 25 The Crown and the Curse

 A Kingdom in Ruins

The city of Eldoris lay in eerie silence. The embers of war still smoldered in the streets, and the once-golden palace stood cracked and broken, its towers reduced to jagged shadows against the twilight.

Princess Lyra walked through the ruined corridors, her footsteps the only sound in the vast emptiness. She felt the weight of every loss, every life taken, every scream that had echoed during the final battle. The celestial war was won—but at what cost?

The sigil on her forearm burned faintly, its golden glow dimmer than before. She had wielded its power like a goddess on the battlefield, but now? Now it felt like it was slipping away.

"Are you ready to face them?"

She turned. Alden.

His face was marked with exhaustion, his armor dented from battle, but his dark eyes held steady. He had always been her rock, her anchor—but now, he too looked uncertain.

She inhaled sharply. "Ready or not, I have no choice."

They stepped forward into the council chamber, where the remaining noble houses had gathered. Broken, desperate, and fearful.

They bowed as she entered—but it was not respect. It was fear.

"She bears the mark of the gods," Lord Felon murmured. "How do we know she is even mortal anymore?"

"She saved Eldoris," Alden snapped. "Or have you all forgotten that already?"

Lord Callix, the eldest of the council, sighed heavily. "We have not forgotten. But a kingdom without a ruler is vulnerable. Princess Lyra, we must ask: Will you take the throne?"

The room fell into silence.

Lyra's chest tightened.

The people expected her to rule.

The gods had marked her to lead.

But something inside her whispered no.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze. "The throne does not belong to me."

The nobles exchanged shocked glances. "Then who?"

Lyra's lips parted—but before she could answer, the torches flickered violently.

The air grew thick with an unnatural chill.

And then—

The shadows moved.

 A Voice from the Darkness

The doors to the chamber slammed open, and the torches snuffed out at once. A cold wind swept through the hall, carrying with it a voice that sent ice through Lyra's veins.

"You thought it was over?"

A figure emerged from the darkness—a tall man with silver eyes like dying stars.

Eryx.

But something was wrong.

His celestial glow was gone. The once-radiant energy that pulsed through his veins was replaced by something darker, something ancient.

A shadowy mist curled around his form. His skin was paler, his lips curved into a smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Eryx?" Lyra's voice was barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head. "Not quite."

Kael drew his sword. "What trick is this?"

Eryx chuckled. "No trick. No illusion. Just the truth."

Lyra's stomach twisted with dread.

She stepped forward, heart pounding. "What happened to you?"

Eryx's smile widened, but there was no warmth left in it.

"I have seen the other side," he murmured. "I have touched the veil between gods and mortals. And I have learned…" He lifted a hand, and the sigil on Lyra's arm flared with searing pain.

"…that we were never meant to survive this."

The shadows in the room twisted violently—and suddenly, Lyra wasn't in the throne room anymore.

She was somewhere else.

 The Realm Between

She stood on a floating platform of cracked stone, surrounded by a swirling abyss of stars and darkness.

This place felt ancient. Older than time.

And in the center of it all…

A throne.

Not the golden throne of Eldoris.

This one was made of obsidian and celestial fire, its presence both beautiful and terrifying.

A whisper crawled through the air.

"You were never meant to rule a mortal kingdom, Lyra. You were meant to rule this."

A cold shiver ran down her spine. She turned sharply—and saw herself.

Not just a reflection.

A dark version of herself.

Dressed in celestial robes woven from the night sky. Eyes glowing like molten gold. A goddess, not a queen.

The shadow Lyra smiled. "You know this is where you belong."

"No." Lyra shook her head, stepping back. "This isn't real."

The shadow Lyra tilted her head. "Isn't it?"

She reached forward—and the sigil on Lyra's arm burned with blinding light.

Lyra screamed as the visions overtook her.

The celestial throne shattering into pieces.Alden standing before a burning castle, blood on his hands.Eryx kneeling before a figure cloaked in pure void.And Lyra—standing on the edge of eternity, with two choices before her.

One path to power.

One path to destruction.

And she didn't know which was which.

 A Kingdom at the Edge

Lyra gasped as she was ripped back into reality.

She collapsed onto the cold stone floor, her body shaking violently.

Eryx knelt beside her; his voice soft. "Do you understand now?"

She looked up at him—her mind still spinning.

"What… what did you do?" she choked out.

Eryx's silver eyes darkened. "I only showed you the truth."

Alden grabbed Lyra's arm, pulling her away from Eryx. "Stay away from her."

Eryx didn't move. He simply smiled. "Do you truly think you can stop what's coming?"

Alden's grip tightened on his sword. "I will protect her."

Eryx's gaze flickered. "Then you'll die with her."

The air in the room thickened. The sigil on Lyra's arm flared again.

And for the first time—

She wasn't sure if she was fighting against fate or running straight toward it.