Game Of Thrones The Golden Crown Mga Nobela at Kwento

Then let the final drop fall. The obsidian stone cracks instantly. Golden light erupts violently from inside it. Upward. A massive pillar of shimmering power explodes toward the ceiling, flooding the throne room in ancient magic so overwhelming the very walls begin shaking beneath it. Every bowl ignites at once. The earth vines bloom. The water shines. The ashes spin. The blood burns. And deep within the center of the golden light.. A crown appears. A golden crown. Ancient and radiant and terrible. Floating directly above my head.

“The Crown of Balance.” Aria stepped toward it—but paused. Her heart thundered. “This is not a symbol of rule,” she said. “It’s a promise.” Kael placed his hand over hers. “Then make it.” She lifted the crown. --- A great wind howled through the Heartspire. Fire rose. Light bled through the walls. All across the valley below, the tribes looked up—witnessing the eruption of gold and crimson that spilled from the spire’s summit. And in that flame, they saw her.

There was something about a crown revelation. — but more specifically, there was something about the Alpha King’s Crown revelation. My mum took off the silk and… Gasps. A wave of gasps and awe swept through the Hall as blissful colors were reflected into everyone’s eyes from the object in my mum’s hands. The Crown of The Alpha King. It was a gleaming gold piece, adorned with intricate engravings and fine filigree work. Dazzling gemstones such as deep red rubies, rich emeralds, and sparkling sapphires decorated its circumference and added a regal shimmer.

Selene cuts her hand first, followed by Octavia, Archie, and Dean. The blood mixed and came out of the bowl. Selene twisted her hand, and two identical crowns appeared. The crown is golden with red gemstones on it. It has three thorns coming out of it, but it confused me why there were two. The blood poured on the crown, and I can see the blood entering the gemstones and turning them crimson red. Selene looked at Dean, smiling at him.

Not made for a princess in some golden court. It was raw. Brutal. Majestic. The Dead Queen’s Crown. Forged not from gold, but blackened bone and molten silver, the crown shimmered wetly under the moonlight as though freshly unearthed from the ruins of time. Its spires curled like claws, sharp and predatory, and nestled in the hollows of its jagged design pulsed a faint red light, dim, but alive, like a heartbeat. Like waiting for breath. Thorne’s voice dropped to a reverent hush. “No one has touched it in over a hundred years. It burned the last heir who tried. Burned him through the skull.”

Gingerly, he shows it to me, and it is exactly what his sketch showed. The golden wolf has red ruby eyes, and I notice the soft pink shine on the outside from where I had colored it in, in his sketch. The outside flourish of the golden crown makes me gasp, he has added a simple swirling curl at either end of the wolf. A thin golden wire, just pure beauty. Cautiously, King Harvey places the crown on my head and smiles. He opens his mouth to speak, but Beta Tom rushes in. “I am so sorry, King Harvey and Luna Queen Elena, but you are late for your speech, Elena!” Beta Tom is pale and out of breath, obviously considered by this situation.

The throne hall was already full when Seraphina entered. Every noble who mattered was there, cloaked in silks and whispers. Golden light streamed from the tall windows, glinting off silver goblets and jeweled rings. The sound of voices softened when she crossed the threshold. She felt every pair of eyes turn toward her. Elysia stood beside the throne in a gown of white and gold, her smile sweet, her posture perfect. Beside her, Crown Prince Adrian looked the part of mercy and majesty, his hand resting lightly on Elysia’s arm.

The students in the dormitories cried out, their voices a mix of fear and relief, and I heard Theron shouting for them to run, to leave, to not look back. I stood over Lorna, the crown in my hands, its thorns cutting my palms. Blood dripped down my wrists, mixing with the black liquid that still clung to the thorns. The gold beneath my skin surged, and the crown began to glow—not black, not dark, but gold. Pure, bright, living gold. The king screamed. His voice echoed in my mind, in the bond, in the shadow itself. And then he was gone. The crown went still.

Unlike Chaos, he wasted no motion. He stood before Sol and placed the crown upon his head. The reaction was immediate. Golden light erupted from the crown in branching streams that twisted through the air before coiling back over the metal. They did not remain light for long. They thickened, shaped themselves, and became living vines woven from gold. The room erupted in astonishment. The vines wrapped around the crown in elegant spirals, anchoring themselves along its edges. Tiny gemstones bloomed from them like leaves made of crystal—emerald, amber, sapphire, ruby, diamond-bright fragments catching every light in the chamber.