Chapter 11: Secrets of the Eternal Crown

The journey back to the Crimson Kingdom felt different.

Not because the road had changed.

Not because the forest had become safer.

But because everyone now understood the truth.

The Hollow Ones were real.

Kael Vayne was actively moving against the kingdom.

And somehow, Blackwood Tower had become the next destination.

The prophecy was no longer a distant warning.

It was happening.

One step at a time.

One choice at a time.

One secret at a time.

As they rode south toward the capital, Elena noticed King Alaric growing quieter.

Normally he spoke little.

Now he spoke almost not at all.

His attention seemed fixed on thoughts no one else could see.

The immortal king carried something heavy.

Something older than the kingdom itself.

Elena intended to find out what it was.

By sunset they returned to the Red Castle.

The city gates opened immediately.

Guards rushed forward.

Messengers ran toward the council chambers.

News of the attack had clearly arrived before them.

As Elena dismounted, Lyra approached.

The council wants answers.

They can wait.

Alaric's voice was firm.

The king looked toward Elena.

Come with me.

That was unexpected.

Elena glanced toward Rowan.

The warrior looked equally surprised.

Where are we going?

The king turned toward the castle.

To a place no outsider has entered for five hundred years.

The answer only created more questions.

Half an hour later, Elena followed Alaric through a private section of the castle.

No guards.

No servants.

No nobles.

Only silence.

The corridors here were older than the rest of the fortress.

Dust covered many of the walls.

Several doors appeared permanently sealed.

Eventually they reached a narrow staircase spiraling downward.

Unlike the prison vault, this staircase felt peaceful.

Sad.

But peaceful.

The king descended first.

Elena followed.

At the bottom waited a single wooden door.

Unlike every other door in the castle, it contained no magical symbols.

No wards.

No guards.

Just age.

Alaric stopped before it.

For a moment, he didn't move.

He simply stared.

As though gathering courage.

Finally he opened it.

The room beyond was beautiful.

Bookshelves lined the walls.

A fireplace sat in the corner.

Paintings covered nearly every surface.

Fresh flowers rested near a window.

Everything looked untouched.

Preserved.

Frozen in time.

Like someone might return at any moment.

Elena immediately understood.

This was not a library.

Not a study.

Not a storage room.

It was someone's home.

Queen Seraphine.

The king nodded.

Her chambers.

Silence settled between them.

The room felt alive with memory.

A half-finished book rested beside a chair.

A silver necklace lay atop a wooden table.

A handwritten letter remained unfinished.

Every object seemed to whisper about a life interrupted.

A life stolen.

Five centuries ago.

You never changed anything.

Elena said quietly.

No.

Alaric walked toward the window.

Some things deserve to be remembered exactly as they were.

Elena looked around.

The room explained something important.

The king's loneliness.

The sadness hidden behind his calm expression.

The exhaustion in his eyes.

Five hundred years was a long time to carry grief.

Perhaps too long.

The king opened a small wooden chest beneath the window.

Inside rested a single object.

A crown.

Elena immediately recognized it.

Not because she had seen it before.

Because she felt it.

Power.

Ancient.

Dangerous.

Beautiful.

The crown appeared forged from silver and crimson crystal.

Light moved inside the stone like liquid fire.

Elena's breath caught.

The Eternal Crown.

Alaric nodded.

The original crown.

The real crown.

Elena frowned.

The one you wear isn't real?

It is real.

Just not this one.

The king carefully lifted the artifact.

Its glow brightened immediately.

The room seemed warmer.

Older.

Alive.

What exactly is it?

The question lingered.

For several moments Alaric simply stared at the crown.

Then he answered.

My prison.

Elena blinked.

What?

The crown granted immortality.

The king's voice carried no pride.

Only regret.

Five hundred years ago, I believed immortality would save my people.

Instead, it trapped me.

Elena stared at him.

The realization hit slowly.

You didn't become immortal naturally.

No.

The crown chose a vessel.

And that vessel became me.

The room felt colder.

Suddenly the legends made sense.

The immortal king.

The kingdom outside time.

The ancient prison beneath the castle.

Everything connected somehow.

Why tell me this?

Because you're part of the story now.

Alaric placed the crown back into the chest.

And because you're one of the few people here who doesn't fear me.

Elena considered that.

He wasn't entirely wrong.

She respected him.

Sometimes pitied him.

Occasionally found him frustrating.

But fear?

Not really.

That surprised her.

Most people seemed terrified of the king.

The king suddenly looked toward a painting hanging above the fireplace.

It showed two young men standing beside one another.

One wore a crimson cloak.

The other a black one.

Brothers.

Kael.

Alaric nodded.

Before everything changed.

Elena stepped closer.

The resemblance was unmistakable.

The same eyes.

The same features.

The same blood.

Only the expressions differed.

Alaric appeared calm.

Kael looked ambitious.

Hungry.

Like someone already dreaming of power.

What happened?

The king's jaw tightened.

I failed him.

The answer came immediately.

Without hesitation.

Without excuses.

That surprised Elena more than anything.

You blame yourself.

Of course.

The king looked away.

Who else should I blame?

Before Elena could respond, the Eternal Crown suddenly glowed.

Both of them turned.

The crimson crystal pulsed violently.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The chest began shaking.

The entire room trembled.

A distant roar echoed somewhere beneath the castle.

Louder than before.

Stronger than before.

The prison.

Alaric moved instantly.

The glow intensified.

A vision exploded into existence above the crown.

Images filled the room.

Blackwood Tower.

Snow-covered mountains.

Ancient ruins.

A hidden doorway.

Then another image appeared.

A man standing before the tower.

Tall.

Dark cloak.

Silver eyes.

A familiar face.

Kael Vayne.

The vision lasted only seconds.

Then vanished.

Silence returned.

Heavy breathing filled the room.

Alaric stared at the crown.

Impossible.

What?

Elena asked.

The king's expression darkened.

Kael isn't waiting for us to come to Blackwood Tower.

He lowered his voice.

He's already there.

At that exact moment, alarms began ringing throughout the castle.

Bells.

Dozens of them.

Urgent.

Desperate.

Danger.

Alaric immediately moved toward the door.

Elena followed.

A guard appeared at the top of the staircase.

Breathless.

Terrified.

Majesty!

The northern mountains!

What about them?

The guard swallowed.

Blackwood Tower has awakened.

The king froze.

Outside, thunder shook the valley.

Far beyond the Crimson Kingdom, among frozen peaks and forgotten ruins, a dark light rose into the night sky.

And for the first time in five hundred years, Blackwood Tower was calling its master home.