“The Crown lay in front of him, just as it had in his dream. It had whispered to him, for years, urging him on. To make it whole, to complete his work. He had ignored everything, shunned everyone he had ever loved, in his desire to see it finished.”

Chapter 53

Wil approached the large bed and saw his mother laying there. Her blond hair, always so vibrant and alive in the sunlight, was lank and sweat soaked upon her pillows.

Her appearance was pale and unhealthy. She had expression of pain on her face.

Wil remembered this day. No matter what he did, he could never forget.

He had been ten years old when his mother had fallen ill. She had always been a frail and delicate person, but she had taken a sudden turn over the winter. Barely leaving her bed, Wil had spent most of his waking moments by her bedside, watching as she slipped away.

He knew what would happen, he had seen this moment play out in his mind repeatedly. He walked slowly to his mother’s side, reaching down and grasping her hand. He held it gently in his grip before kneeling on the floor beside her bed.

It was a strange feeling, living in a memory. He had lost control of his actions, as if he was an actor in a play. He knew the script, he knew every word that would be said, every action to take. The memory was a river, and he was swept along in the current, unable to struggle free.

“Mother.” He said quietly to get her attention.

Her eyes, shining blue in the sunlight, opened and focused on his. She gripped his hand tightly, surprisingly strong for how sick he knew she was.

“Wil, I’ve been waiting for you.” She whispered.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Father insisted I see him.” He said, staring into her blue eyes. As vivid as the moment was in his mind, he couldn’t remember what inane reason his father had given for pulling him away from the dying woman.

“It’s ok, Wil. You’re here now.” She said, closing her eyes again for a moment.

The dream trembled, and Wil could make out a voice, shouting in the distance. The crown was incessant in its drive to corrupt him, to pollute his very soul. Even in this place, the last refuge of his mind, it hunted him. It drew closer with every moment.

Wil looked briefly out the window. Instead of the vast lawns and gardens he expected to see, only a barren snowy wasteland stretched beyond the glass. The crown’s influence manifested as the harsh environment outside, held at bay by this precious memory.

He turned back to his mother, lowering his forehead to rest it on their clasped hands.

“I don’t want you to go. Please don’t leave me here alone!” He begged her. He followed the same actions now, as an adult, as he did when he was a child. The dream flowed relentlessly, towards a conclusion that he wished would never arrive.

“My poor boy, no one is ever really gone. I’ll always be with you.” She said weakly, her eyes no longer having the strength to open. She had a faint smile on her face as she faded away from him.

Wil remained kneeling on the hard stone floor as the hand in his grew cold. The room continued to shake, and the temperature dropped sharply. Frost slowly covered everything around him and the flowers his mother loved wilted and died.

Wil waited, knowing that the small protection afforded by the memory was ending, that the inevitable would happen. He took this short moment to kneel here, holding his mother’s hand before the end.

Step. Step. Step. Step

Loud footsteps sounded in the silent cold, and the dream shook with each one. Wil could feel the footfalls in his very soul, as if they were crushing down on him.

With a loud bang, the door to his mother’s room crashed open and his father entered.

Tiberius Brookmoor was just as Wil remembered him from the past, tall and handsome. The older man had a cold expression on his face as he entered the room.

“So, this is where you have been hiding! Clinging onto a dead woman’s memory. What, are you hoping that mommy will protect you!?” His father’s voice rang out in the deafening silence of the room.

Wil looked up sharply, this was not how the dream was supposed to end! His father had entered when he was a boy, dragging him away from his mother, but he had stayed quiet. This taunting was new to the nightmare, different from the past.

His father stood there, looking exactly as he had back then, but a new addition shocked Wil. Upon his father’s head sat a silvery white crown, with a large diamond shining brightly on the front.

“You do not belong here!” Wil shouted, standing up from the bedside.

“You’re a weakling Wilhelm! Sitting here alone, crying about the past. You should be seizing the opportunity before you! We can do great things together, but you would rather stay here and miss your mommy?” His father…no, the crown, taunted.

“I’ve given you enough chances to come to me willingly. I tire of these games!” It yelled, removing the crown from its head and holding it outwards. It walked towards Wil, intent on forcing him to wear the item.

Wil backed away from the monster wearing his father’s face as the room rocked violently. He looked desperately around for anything to help him, when he felt a gentle grip on his hand. Looking down, his mother was holding his hand, his palm held with the seven-pointed sun visible. He could feel the heat coming from the mark.

“You’re not alone Wil, remember that I’m always with you.” She smiled at him, and a bright light filled the room. Everything went white as he heard the crown screaming in the distance.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Wil’s eyes snapped open to see his hand gripped tightly around the crown as he knelt in front of the throne. The metal was burning cold as it dug deeply into his flesh. The searing frost of the crown was raging against an intense heat that was emanating from the brand on his palm.

The opposing forces were clashing ruthlessly as the crown fought to corrupt his body, and the blazing heat sought to protect him.

With immense effort, Wil stood and focused deeply on the diamond, shimmering before him. He could feel the power from it fighting to enter his body. So, he let it.

Vast quantities of Mana entered his body in a flood. It tore at his insides and his Core struggled to contain the immense power. The voice in the crown, the spirit residing in the relic, crowed and screeched in glee at its sudden victory.

The sentient magical item never could have imagined what Wil would do with the offered Mana. It was outside of anything it had ever experienced before.

Wil took the proffered energy, accepted it gladly into his body, and funneled it directly back into the diamond. He combined it with every ounce of his own strength, and the power from the brand in his hand.

He fought to change the icy cold Mana into liquid fire by circulating it through his own body, the mysterious energy that the golden coin had given him assisting with the shift.

The cursed crown realized that something was terribly wrong, as energy flooded back into it. It could not contain the Mana and it continued to pass between them both in a continuous loop. Gradually, the diamond in the center became blazing hot, melting the surrounding metal and separating from the silver white crown.

With a cry of pain, Wil grasped the gemstone and hurled it away from him. It flew over the throne and into the black abyss below. As the diamond struck the frozen volcanic rock in the chasm beneath, he dove to the ground at the base of the stairs, shielding his head as he landed.

A massive explosion erupted as the diamond shattered. The energy released caused a maelstrom of fire and stone to pillar upwards.

Wil covered his ears to shield them from the deafening roar. The flash of light was so intense that even with his eyes closed and head covered the world turned completely white. A wave of heat swept over him as it drove the remaining frost from the ground.

The light faded and Wil slowly lifted his head to peer behind him, just in time to witness a jet of pure magma erupt from the earth far below. The heart of the mountain had come to life.