Chapter 4: The Crown Obeys
Elara woke early, her mind buzzing with questions. The villagers' whispers still echoed in her ears: "She survived the crown… she is chosen… she is powerful." She had survived, yes, but she did not yet understand how or why.
The crown lay beside her on the small wooden table in her room. Its faint golden glow seemed to call to her. She reached for it carefully, as if it were alive, and placed it on her head once more.
The moment it touched her hair, a warm sensation spread through her body, comforting and powerful at the same time. Elara closed her eyes and focused. Show me your power. Let me understand you.
At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, a tiny spark of golden light appeared at her fingertips. She gasped and pulled her hand back. The light wavered, then disappeared.
"Okay…" she whispered. "Maybe I need to try again."
She steadied her breathing and raised her hands again. This time, the spark jumped from her fingertips, dancing in the air. She moved her hands, and the light followed her gestures, spinning and twisting as if it were alive.
Elara laughed softly. "You… you're listening to me!"
The crown hummed faintly, and she realized it wasn't just giving her power—it was obeying her commands. Whatever she imagined, it seemed to respond.
Curiosity overwhelmed her. She focused harder. She imagined the light forming a small shield in front of her. To her amazement, the golden spark expanded, creating a shimmering barrier that hovered in the air. She waved her hands, and it moved with her. She had created it—simply by thinking.
Elara stumbled back, her heart racing. "I… I can control it!"
She experimented for hours. She made the light jump and spin, create shapes, and even illuminate dark corners of her room. Every movement was precise. Every thought seemed to shape the crown's magic.
For the first time, Elara understood something important: this crown was not just an object of power. It was alive, intelligent, and responsive. It obeyed the wearer, but only if the wearer had the courage and focus to command it.
Excited, she moved outside into the courtyard. The morning sun warmed her skin, and the crown glowed brighter in the daylight. She raised her hands, and the golden light arced around her, forming patterns that danced like fireflies.
A small bird landed nearby, chirping curiously. Elara focused, imagining the light circling the bird gently. The spark obeyed, forming a protective bubble around the bird that shimmered in the sunlight. The bird fluttered its wings, unafraid, and then flew away.
Elara smiled. I'm not dangerous… unless I want to be.
She continued experimenting. She imagined a small flame hovering over the ground. The crown made it appear. She imagined a gentle wind, and a soft breeze stirred, rustling the leaves. She imagined shapes in the air, moving and twisting, following her commands perfectly.
Hours passed, and Elara hardly noticed. She was lost in the thrill of discovery, testing her limits, and learning what she could do. The crown seemed to respond more strongly the more confident she became. Fear made it hesitant, doubt made it flicker, but determination made it shine.
By afternoon, she decided to test something bigger. She focused all her energy and imagined a ball of light hovering above her hands. The golden energy swirled, spinning faster and faster. Her arms ached from holding it, but she refused to give up. The ball of light grew larger, brighter, until it hovered above her head like a glowing sun.
Elara's heart pounded. She was controlling it! She could create, shape, and direct the crown's power. The visions she had seen before—the battles, the magic, the power—were no longer just visions. They were possibilities, waiting for her to reach them.
Suddenly, a sound behind her made her jump. A villager had entered the courtyard, staring in shock. "Elara… what is that?" he whispered, his eyes wide.
Elara turned, lowering the ball of light. "It's… the crown," she said softly. "It obeys me. I can control it."
The villager stepped back cautiously. "But… that's impossible. The crown… it kills everyone who wears it!"
"I know," Elara said. "I survived. And now… I think I can use it. I just need to learn."
Word must have spread quickly, because soon more villagers arrived, watching from a distance. They whispered among themselves, afraid and amazed at the same time. Some crossed themselves. Others bowed slightly, recognizing the power she now held.
Elara ignored the crowd for the moment. She was focused on learning. She imagined a small shield in the air and directed it toward a tree branch that had fallen in the courtyard. The shield moved with precision, lifting the branch carefully and setting it aside. The villagers gasped.
"You… you moved that!" one of them exclaimed.
"Yes," Elara said, her voice steady. "I did. The crown listens to me."
The crowd murmured in awe. Some looked afraid. Some looked inspired. But everyone knew one thing—Elara was different. She had survived the curse. She had control over something no one else had. And she was only beginning to understand it.
As the day passed, Elara continued experimenting. She learned that small movements were easier to control than large ones. She learned that her emotions affected the crown—anger made it unpredictable, sadness made it weaker, and calm focus made it respond perfectly.
By evening, she was exhausted but exhilarated. She had created shields, lights, gentle winds, and small floating objects. She had learned that the crown obeyed her, not through fear or strength, but through intention and control.
Elara sat on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard, watching the golden light shimmer around her hands. She realized something important: she was not just surviving anymore. She was growing. She was learning. And with each new command, she felt more confident.
But a part of her mind remained cautious. The crown was powerful, yes—but it was also dangerous. The visions she had seen were a reminder. Other queens had failed. The crown had killed them. She had to be careful. She had to master it slowly, step by step.
As night fell, the villagers began to leave, whispering stories about the girl with the crown. Some said she was blessed. Others said she was cursed. But all agreed—she was unlike anyone they had ever known.
Elara returned to her small room, her body tired but her mind awake with possibilities. She placed the crown carefully on the table beside her bed. Its faint glow reminded her that her journey was only beginning. She had survived the curse, learned that the crown obeyed her, and discovered a strength within herself she had never known.
She lay down, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the visions she had seen, the power she had felt, and the villagers' reactions. She realized that her life would never be ordinary again.
The crown was not just a tool. It was a test. It was a guide. It was a key to something bigger—a destiny she could only begin to imagine. And Elara was ready to face it.
Tomorrow, she would continue experimenting. She would learn more. She would push the limits of what she could do. And slowly, step by step, she would become more than the poor girl from a small village. She would become the girl chosen by fate, the one who could survive the cursed crown, and the one who could wield its power like no queen before her.
Elara closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips. She felt the crown hum softly beside her, almost like a promise. Together, they would face what was coming. Together, they would learn. And together, they would rise.