“For years, he worked alone on his creation. Like a man possessed, he ignored everything around him as he forged the mithril into a crown of unsurpassed beauty. In the center he placed the diamond, glittering like a fallen star.”

Chapter 52

‘Place me upon your brow and all you seek shall be yours…’ a faint voice whispered in Wil’s mind.

He saw himself reflected in the gemstone, a dozen versions of him…a thousand…a million. He stared at the multitudes of him, and the possibilities raged through his mind.

The diamond shone with a harsh inner light, and it was all he could see. It was all he wanted to see. His hand tightened on the crown and Wil knew nothing of now, only what could be.

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Wil ascended out of the hall, rapidly flying through the hole in the ceiling. In less than a minute he had soared the surface and was standing back on the frozen lakebed. He looked around at the ice-covered land around him, feeling contempt for the storm that raged in the sky above.

The crown sat heavy on his head, the silvery white mithril cool against his skin. The diamond shone and sparkled brilliantly, despite the dim light the clouds were causing.

When he had placed the crown on his head, as the voice had whispered for him to do, he had felt a nearly unbearable torrent of energy enter his Mana core. It raised him to levels of power that he had only heard of in legends.

He was beyond any other in Illyria. More powerful than his brother or father. He could easily crush the weak emperor and dominate this land in his place.

‘Clear the skies, let the false gods bear witness to our power…’ the voice uttered in his mind.

Wil felt compelled to remove the clouds and stop the storm. He wanted to let the natural sunlight shine on the crown and see the diamond shimmer again.

He looked upwards at the heavens above and channeled his power. Their power. With a wave of his hand, the clouds parted, and the sun shone upon him. The mithril crown shone with the sun’s light, and Wil basked in it.

The diamond twinkled like a star, becoming brighter until its light was far beyond that of the sun in the sky. Power, endless and terrible entered his body from the crown.

Under the clear blue skies, Wil flew, carried upon the winds. The crown provided him whatever he desired, and right now he wanted to soar.

He flew quickly, a streak of light to those below. He found a large gathering of people on the mountain’s peak. They were fighting a large stone giant, dancing around it as the living statue punched and smashed the ground.

Wil stopped his light, suspended in the air above them. He felt amused at their actions. They were like ants, rushing about in their meaningless lives, unaware that disaster loomed above them.

He pointed at the Elemental, and with a thought, the crown provided him the power he needed. The large stone creature ceased to be, crumbling to dust, because that is what he commanded it to do.

He slowly floated down towards the large group of adventurers. He could see Allard and Archibald in the lead. They both had shocked expressions on their faces at the power he had displayed.

“How did you do that!?” Allard said, stepping forward.

Wil frowned at the man’s audacity, how dare he speak to him, to question his actions!

‘They should kneel before us!’ The voice demanded, and Wil agreed.

“Kneel!” He said, and his power erupted. None of the pests in front of him could withstand his Mana. They fell painfully onto their knees, bowing their heads before him.

He felt satisfied at their behavior, no one should look directly upon him. Insects should know their place.

He left them kneeling there, unable to ever stand again. It was his punishment, a divine punishment for offending him.

He soared into the air again, traveling south at ever greater speeds. It was time for him to go home.

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Wil knelt on the frozen ground before the throne, the crown gripped tightly in his hand. The sharp edges dug painfully into his palm, piercing the seven-pointed sun brand. The pain was a vague awareness, all that mattered was contained within the diamond before him. A future, endless possibilities, all for the taking.

‘Place the crown on your head! Nothing will stand against us’ The voice screamed in his mind, seducing him with its power. Visions of what could be flowed before his eyes. Everything could be his!

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Wil walked towards his family’s manor. Mana wrapped around him like a cloak and each step left frozen footprints in the ground. It was time for him to seize what belonged to him.

Brookmoor family guards rushed towards him, their weapons drawn. They could not recognize him, not with the vast power he wielded. The crown shone brightly in the sun, and no one could look directly at him from the glare.

He waved his hand, the ground erupting with fire and Mana. It left large gouges in the soil as the force tore through anyone in his way. He ripped them apart, the weaklings could not come near him. None of them will live, not after challenging his power.

He raised his arm over his head, his Mana rushing upwards. It gathered in the sky above him, swirling and churning.

Wil thrust his hand back downwards, slamming his palm against the ground. Overhead, his mana formed a large hand of pure force. It fell towards the earth below to mimic his motion.

The titan sized hand crashed into the ground, flattening everything in front of him. Crushed and battered bodies littered the area. The Manors windows exploded outwards from the force he channeled. Shattered glass rained down. Wil turned the shards into sand with a simple thought.

With no one left the contest him, he walked slowly into his family home. He paused, spreading his Mana outwards, looking for his father, brother and younger sister. He found them easily, nothing could be hidden from him, not anymore.

When the sun set that day, the Manor burned, and Wilhelm was the new Earl of Brookmoor. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Wil stared into the diamond, and his hand was in agony. Icy coldness from the crown spread through his palm, while the sun brand burned against it.

He saw more visions. Power and death. Vast multitudes knelt in fear, obeying his every whim. Cities burned, the oceans boiled, and he even pulled the suns from the sky. Nothing could stand against his power.

‘Their Power’ the crown crooned, rapturous that Wil was succumbing to its influence.

Wil lived an entire life, lives, wearing the crown of power on his head.

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He was the emperor. The most power being in the world. He killed the Twin Suns and replaced them, the light of the diamond on his crown lit the world. He became the only source of light, and everyone worshipped him in fear.

And always, the voice in his head whispered, urging in forward to greater depravity and destruction.

With a whimper, Wil recoiled from the visions, but the power of the crown in his hand would not let him go.

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Flicker. The visions kept flowing. Flicker. Flicker. Flicker.

He killed his friends. He enslaved them. The world burned and he laughed, and the voice laughed with him.

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Time lost all meaning to Wil, as the crown showed him all the possibilities its power could bring. In that timelessness, Wil retreated from the visions, pulling as hard as he could away from them. He fled into the recesses of his own mind.

In those depths, far away from the Crown’s influence, Wil found himself in a familiar place.

It was his mother’s room, the same as it had been when he was a child. He recognized the large oak bed, with its purple curtains. He remembered that the art on the wall, depicting a field of flowers, was painted by his mother. He had sat beside her and watched as she gave it life on the canvas.

Wil breathed in deeply, the familiar smell filled the air. Of roses and lilies, but under it all was a sweet smell. The smell of sickness and death.

He remembered this room, with its paintings and books. And he remembered this day, it had been burned in his mind. He dreamed of it for years, it haunted his memories. He had tried to drink this memory away as an adult, but it remained, vivid in his mind.

This was the day his mother had died.