Crown of Thorns and Roses

Elena walked in silence, each step carrying her closer to the final destination—and farther from herself. The emptiness in her chest was all-consuming, a hollow ache where her heart used to be. She no longer felt the biting cold of the wind or the weight of exhaustion in her limbs.

She felt nothing.

Cassian walked ahead, his silver eyes fixed on the path ahead, though his movements seemed less certain than before. He glanced back at her every so often, as if checking to make sure she was still there.

"Say something," she finally said, her voice flat.

Cassian slowed, his gaze meeting hers. "You're quiet."

"I don't know what to say," Elena replied. "Or how to say it." She paused, her fingers curling into fists. "It's like… I'm not even me anymore."

Cassian turned fully to face her, his expression unreadable. "Sacrifice changes people."

"Does it?" she shot back, bitterness creeping into her tone. "Or does it erase them?"

He didn't answer, but for the first time, Elena saw something raw in his silver eyes—something close to regret. "You'll understand when this is over," he said quietly.

"And if I don't?"

Cassian didn't reply. Instead, he turned and continued walking, leaving Elena to follow in silence.

The path took them to a plateau, a jagged cliff that overlooked a valley bathed in golden light. At the center of the valley stood the Rose Crown.

Elena's breath caught in her throat as she looked at it. The crown was unlike anything she had imagined—an intricate, twisting structure of black thorns and red roses, glowing faintly as if alive. It sat atop a stone pedestal, its light spilling across the valley like liquid gold.

Even from this distance, she could feel its pull.

Cassian stepped up beside her, his gaze fixed on the crown. "It's close now. But this part… you face alone."

Elena tore her gaze from the crown to look at him. "You're not coming with me?"

Cassian shook his head. "The crown chooses its bearer. This is your trial, not mine."

"What if I fail?"

He looked at her, his expression softening for just a moment. "You won't."

She wasn't sure whether it was reassurance or a command.

Taking a deep breath, Elena started down the cliff path. Each step felt heavier than the last, as though the crown's presence weighed down the air itself. She focused on it, letting its light guide her, until she reached the valley floor.

The air was still, thick with an almost unnatural silence. Elena approached the pedestal, the crown's glow washing over her face. Up close, it was even more beautiful—and more terrifying. The thorns twisted into delicate patterns, while the roses pulsed faintly, as though they were breathing.

She reached out a hand, her fingers trembling.

"Stop."

The voice was sharp and sudden, freezing her in place. Elena turned sharply to see a figure stepping from the shadows—Cassian.

Or rather, something that looked like him.

This Cassian was wreathed in shadow, his silver eyes burning with an unnatural light. His armor was darker, his sword jagged and dripping with shadow.

"What—what are you?" Elena stammered, backing away.

The shadow-Cassian smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "I am your doubt. Your hesitation. Your failure."

Elena's stomach turned. "You're not real."

The figure laughed, the sound cold and hollow. "And yet, here I stand. Do you truly think you deserve the crown? After all you've lost? After what you've given up?"

Elena's gaze darted back to the crown, its glow flickering like a distant beacon. "I came this far. I've survived."

"And yet," the figure sneered, stepping closer, "you have nothing left. You gave away your heart, your soul. Do you even know why you're here anymore?"

Elena clenched her fists, her chest aching. "To save my people."

"To save people who are already gone?" The shadow laughed again. "What good is a queen without a heart? Without the ability to love?"

The words hit her like a physical blow. For a moment, doubt flared within her. Was this what the crown wanted? Was it testing her resolve, or proving her unworthy?

I can't stop now.

Elena forced herself to step forward, her gaze locked on the crown. "I don't need my heart to save them."

The shadow moved to block her path, its form shifting and twisting. "You think the crown will give you power? You think it will fix what's broken?"

"Yes."

The figure paused, and for the first time, it seemed uncertain. Elena took another step forward, the light from the crown growing brighter.

"I may have lost my heart," she said, her voice steady now, "but I haven't lost myself. My strength, my resolve—those are mine. And I will not let you take them from me."

The shadow-Cassian snarled, lunging at her.

Elena didn't flinch. She stepped straight through him, her form passing through his like smoke. The shadow screamed, its voice echoing across the valley as it dissolved into darkness.

When Elena reached the pedestal, the crown's glow surrounded her completely. She looked down at it, her breath steady, her hands no longer trembling.

"I've come this far," she whispered. "And I won't turn back."

She reached out, her fingers brushing the crown.

Light erupted around her, blinding and brilliant. Elena cried out as it engulfed her, burning through her skin, her bones, her very soul. She could feel it—her sacrifice, her pain, her guilt—all of it being stripped away, leaving only the raw essence of who she was.

When the light finally faded, she was kneeling on the ground, the crown resting in her hands. It felt warm, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

She looked up to see Cassian—the real Cassian—standing at the edge of the valley, watching her. For the first time, she thought she saw pride in his silver eyes.

"You did it," he said softly.

Elena stood, the crown still in her grasp. She could feel its power humming through her, stronger than anything she had ever known.

But as she looked at Cassian, she realized something.

The emptiness in her chest was still there.

And no amount of power could fill it.