Kai gritted his teeth as he lowered the crown onto his head. The black metal felt impossibly cold at first, like a brand of ice pressing into his skull. Then, almost instantly, the chill ignited into an agonizing burn.
The sensation wasn't just on his skin. It was inside his skull, lancing into his mind as though molten spikes were forcing themselves into the very folds of his brain. His first instinct was to rip the thing off, to hurl it as far as he could.
But when his hands shot up to the crown, they met only resistance. The band would not budge. His fingers slid along its slick, jagged surface as if the crown had fused to him.
"Ah," Andorath said, his skeletal voice echoing like the scrape of stone on stone. "So, you are good enough to be chosen."
That was the last thing Kai heard before the world fractured.
---
At first, there was only darkness. Not the suffocating void of death, but a strange warmth, the comfort of being buried deep underground.
Then there were flashes.
