The moment Kaelen's fingers brushed the rim of the Crown of Skyreach, the world changed.
Light burst from the pedestal, brilliant and blinding. Kaelen staggered back, shielding his eyes as the chamber shuddered around them. The Guardians vanished into motes of silver light, scattering like stars across a black sky. The pedestal cracked, its form splitting open to reveal a swirling vortex beneath — not of air or stone, but of memory.
"No!" Lys cried out, reaching for Kaelen as the pull of the vortex yanked him forward. But it was too late.
Kaelen fell.
Not into the abyss — but into light.
The Skyborn Trial
When Kaelen opened his eyes, he stood on a field of clouds. The stars wheeled above him, closer than they had any right to be, and the ground beneath his feet shimmered with starlight. There was no wind, no sound, only the thrum of power vibrating through the very air. The Crown was gone. So were Lys and Aelric.
A figure stepped forward from the haze — tall, robed in constellations, with eyes like twin moons. It was not one of the Guardians, but something older. A Skyborn. A being of the first age.
"You are not ready," it said, voice echoing in Kaelen's bones. "But you are chosen. And so, the Trial begins."
Kaelen's blade appeared in his hand — not summoned, not drawn, simply there. Before him, the clouds parted, revealing reflections of himself — dozens of them. Each one bore a different Crown: Iskaran, Vire, Orynth, and now, Skyreach.
"You carry the weight of kingdoms," the Skyborn said. "But do you carry the wisdom?"
The first reflection stepped forward — Kaelen crowned with Iskaran's might, his face dark with fury, eyes burning with vengeance.
"This is who you could become," the Skyborn intoned. "A tyrant born of grief."
Kaelen raised his sword as the reflection attacked.
The Trial Unfolds
Each strike from his doppelgänger was heavy, full of pain and rage Kaelen had buried since Iskaran fell. He fought not to win, but to understand. The fight was brutal — but when Kaelen finally disarmed the reflection, he did not kill it. Instead, he whispered: "I forgive you."
The reflection vanished in a shimmer of light.
A second took its place — this one crowned with Vire, the lost realm of dreams, his face blank with apathy.
"This is who you could become," the Skyborn said. "A ruler without heart."
Kaelen didn't raise his blade. He stepped forward, looked into the reflection's hollow eyes, and said, "I remember why I fight."
The reflection faded.
One by one, the trials came. Pride. Fear. Ambition. Doubt.
And Kaelen faced each with clarity — not perfect, but growing.
The Final Reflection
At last, one figure remained — a Kaelen crowned with Skyreach, his armor radiant, his stance unshakable. But something was wrong. His eyes gleamed with cold starlight. Power radiated from him in waves.
"This is your final path," the Skyborn said. "The god-king. Savior of realms. But alone."
Kaelen swallowed hard. This reflection did not attack. It waited.
Kaelen lowered his sword. "I don't want to be a god. I want to be enough."
The reflection smiled — not cruelly, but with sorrow. Then it dissolved.
The Crown Awakened
The light faded. Kaelen knelt on the stone floor of the Celestial Vault once more, the Crown of Skyreach now resting gently in his palm.
It pulsed with warm light, no longer suspended, no longer guarded. It had chosen him — or perhaps, accepted him.
Lys and Aelric rushed to his side. "Are you alright?" Lys asked, helping him up.
Kaelen nodded slowly, slipping the Crown into his satchel beside Iskaran's. "I think I passed."
Aelric looked around. The Guardians were gone. The Vault was still.
"Then we need to leave," he said. "Before this place decides to change its mind."
But as they turned to go, the mountain rumbled. A crack tore through the far wall, revealing a hidden stairway spiraling downward, deeper than the temple itself.
Kaelen met Lys's eyes. She had felt it too — the next step in their journey.
For with each Crown, the world revealed more of its secrets.
And somewhere below, buried in the ancient stone of Skyreach, something awaited.
Not another Crown.
But a name.
And a warning.
The Hollow King was not the first.