Evans sat at the head of the council chamber, his mind wrestling with uneasy thoughts. Only days had passed since he'd shared the truth about the cursed crown with his council, but a new fear had begun to take root in the kingdom. Rumors began to filter in from villages along the borders: farmers spoke of seeing shadowy figures in the middle of their fields at night, and merchants spoke of townsfolk vanishing into thin air.
Jorin entered the room, pale and grim. "Your Highness, word has arrived from North Haven and River's Edge," he said to Evans, handing him a worn and hastily-scrawled note. "It is worse than we thought." Evans's eyes scanned the message, his heart plummeting per line. "Three villages, and all under the same curse," he murmured, his voice no more than a whisper. "They are seeing shadows-figures that vanish once some one approaches. Jorin nodded, his jaw tight. "These shadows… they are no normal specters. It is as if t
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Shadows of the crown Chapter 1: Shadows on the horizon
Standing on the eastern balcony of the castle, the winds whipping at his cloak, the gaze of Prince Evans swept over the great kingdom of Astera: the gold fields stretching to the horizon, kissed by the early morning sun, yet beneath that beauty a sense of foreboding lingered. These faraway mountains, once comforting and a natural barrier of protection, now seemed to brood under a thickening layer of mist, as though hiding secrets this kingdom was not ready to face. Astera had once shone so bright, a beacon of light and prosperity, but over the past year, it had been smothering under an invisible weight, a growing darkness that seemed to seep right from the air. Rumors flew among the people of strange happenings: withering of crops without cause, sickness, and death amongst the livestock, and a chill that had submerged into the bones-whatever the season. And at the hub of all that was the crown, an heirloom passed down the generations, now locked away in the castle's vault
Shadows of the crown Chapter 2: The Gathering Storm
The morning dawned on Astera, pale and silvery in the stone corridors of the castle. Evans stood in the armory, his hands on the worn hilt of his father's sword. Like the crown, the blade had been passed down through generations of his family, forged in the fire of the ancient forge. But it had never been tainted by darkness as the crown had. It was an emblem of honor, a memento of the kingdom's golden years-before the shadows crept in. Evans tightened his armor straps. The weight of the journey before him weighed heavy in his mind, as he had hardly slept the night before with his mind raped by visions of his father and the words he read about the crown. Thus, his mind was made up, but doubt still gnawed at the edges: could the curse that had ensnared his family for so long really be broken, or was he, like everybody else, destined to fall to the seductive power of the crown? Jorin entered the armory, his footsteps quiet against the stone floor. Already dressed
Shadows of the crown chapter 3: The whispers of Shadows
The wind howled through the trees, carrying upon it a biting chill that seemed to crawl under Evans's armor and burrow deep into his bones. The sudden disappearance of the cloaked figure had left the camp silent, but tension hung in the air like a thick fog. Each man stood still, staring into the darkness as if he expected the figure to reappear any minute. Evans's heart still racing, he stared at the place where the mysterious figure vanished. His mind was a tumble of questions, none of which had easy answers: Who was this stranger? How did he know about the crown? Most terrifyingly of all, what did it mean that the crown was awake? Jorin spoke first, his voice low, but urgent. "We need to move. If the crown knows that we're coming, it's too dangerous to stay here." Evans nodded, forcing himself to focus. "You're right. We'll rest for a few hours, leave at first light. But we need to be ready for anything." Jorin's face darkened, looking
Shadows of the crown Chapter 4: Into the Abyss
They rode through the mist-filled valley, the castle rising afar, its once-proud walls now shrouded in the very shadow that had set in, infecting the land. It was deathly quiet but for the rustling of unseen things that lurked in the darkness. With each heavy breath-one that seemed to carry within itself the air laced with some kind of curse that had spread throughout the kingdom-their breathing felt laborious. The closer they got to the edge of the castle, the more Evans could feel the tugging of the crown, louder now. It was like a gnawing sensation at the back of his mind, this constant whisper that reminded him of the inevitable confrontation to come. He knew full well that the moment he stepped into the throne room, there would be no turning back. The crown awaited him there and wanted him to fall. Jorin, ever watchful, turned to Evans with a hint of concern. "Are you sure about this? The closer we come, the different you act." Evans didn't answ
Shadows of the crown Chapter 5: The final choice
It was the weight of a throne room that weighed upon Evans as he pressed onward, the shadows clawing at him-but unbreakable was his resolve. Twisted and hollow, King Alden watched him, the vacant gaze of his father a reminder of what the crown could do, would do if he failed. Jorin flung himself in a frenzy against the wall of shadows, separating them; his cries were desperate, but Evans knew this battle was his alone. The curse was a part of his bloodline; only he could face it. As he drew closer to the throne, the crown's whispers grew louder. They no longer subtly coaxed his thoughts; they screamed in his mind for him to give in-a chorus of voices demanding he surrender. "Take the crown!" they shrieked. "Take it, and all will be yours!" Evans felt the pull. The power. The promise of control over the darkness, over life itself. He could restore Astera, raise her to heights she had never known. He could protect his peo
Shadows of the crown Chapter 6: The shadow still Linger
With the dawn creeping through the broken windows of the throne room, the reality of what had taken place weighed heavily upon Evans-like some sort of suffocating blanket. Kneeling silently beside the still body of his father, his mind was race-scrambled with the realization that this victory, though hard-fought, came with a terrible cost. The battle was won; the curse, supposedly, lifted-but Evans couldn't shake this uneasy feeling in his chest. The kingdom was saved, yes, but at what cost. Jorin, bruised but breathing, walked forward gingerly. He laid a hand on Evans's shoulder, his voice at a mere whisper. "We have to go, Evans. The people-they have to know it is over." Evans nodded, but the action seemed empty. He knew Jorin was right. The council, the people-they needed to hear of the curse's end, to see their new king. But as he rose from the cold stone floor, his eyes again fell upon the crown, lying near the base of the throne. It lay quiet, y
Shadows of the crown Chapter 7: The Mark of the crown
Days faded into an indistinct haze, but what lingered in Evans's mind was the shadow dog's attack, hovering over him like a dark cloud. While people of Astera gradually began to get back into the daily grind once again, the kingdom itself awaited with bated breath the occurrence of something, anything. Evans felt it, too. The skies had cleared-the streets were once again filled with caution and hope-but he knew the curse of the crown hadn't been truly broken. Not yet. Since the night of the battle, Evans had been avoiding the council chambers, much more content to wander the empty halls of the castle. His heart was heavy, for though his father's reign had been brought to a close, the weight of the curse clung to him like a shadow. Every mirror, every dark corner seemed to mock him with the knowledge that the crown had not been destroyed, only changed. And thus, late one night, unable to sleep, Evans found himself standing before the mi
Shadows of the crown Chapter 8: Decent into darkness
The chill of the shadows clung to Evans long after the voices had faded, their whispering echoing in the far reaches of his mind. It had been three nights since that terrifying encounter in his chambers, and he had not slept since. He was too afraid of what might come in the silence of the night, too fearful of what he might become should he let his guard down, even for a moment. Jorin kept pace, his attentive company a reminder of the steadfastness Evans had always relied upon. Yet the farther on Evans pressed, the more the kingdom shrouded its mysteries. Figures flitted at the edges of his sight, never quite in focus, melting away the instant he turned toward them. This crown, now locked deep in the furthest vault of the castle, still called to him; its faint presence a tug deep in his chest. The whispers and his mind seemed to be indistinguishable from each other. He could no longer draw a line between his sanity and whatever nightmare his life ha
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