So this it it. Just her, and the crown. Staring down the barrel of fate.
She lacked the words to describe how badly she didn't want this, that rather than face this she could turn heel and disappear into the dark. But no.
I've made my bed, she tells herself. The room had been empty for mere minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. Her father, in all his royal garb was quite the sight- she wondered how similar they'd appear now that she was too. No doubt he'd already commissioned a portrait of them together, King and princess. She saw nothing but pure pride in his eyes when she'd come here, and had internally smiled. Her face didn't want to move from it's resting expression, and there was nothing she could do to make it. Her eyes twitched as if to cry, but she did not break.

She stared, and stared, and stared at the crown. Deep into the enormous red jewels set in it, a thousand smaller versions of her seemingly trapped inside of them staring back all distorted by the red. It mocked her, all she need do was pick it up and place it on her head, and she would feel this dread no longer. She crossed her arms and huffed at the thing. "I hate you, yannow that?" she sighed.

She felt uneasy as the room suddenly seemed to shift in feeling, as if speaking to it had manifested something. Myste's eyes widened as she realised what was happening, this fucking this place and the things it did to her powers. Slowly moving her gaze to the left, where there once was nothing now stood a line of pale pink ghosts- each of them being herself at various ages. Glowing white eyes shone up at her as she stumbled back and covered her mouth, despite knowing a scream wouldn't come. Their mouths did not move at all, but she heard whispers in their- no, her- voice around her. Some yelling, some begging, some cursing./..but it was the one directly next to her echoed the the loudest.

"You know we cannot come back from this...right? "

Myste wrenched her hand from her mouth and she screamed "I KNOW!!" over and over again, until she rasped, her eyes shutting. At this the ghosts flickered out like blown out candles. She shuddered for a few moments, feeling her breath return to her. A single tear fell from her eyes. She closed the distance between herself and the pedestal in three steps, snatched the crown off it's cushion and carefully slid it onto her head.

I know. This is who I have to be now.



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