part 1: The Curse of the Shadow Crown
Sitara stood in front of the mirror once more, the familiar weight of the Shadow Crown pressing down on her brow. She no longer needed to reach for it — it had become a part of her, like a second skin. Dark magic rippled through her veins, each pulse syncing with the steady beat of her ambition.
Visions flickered: her mother laughing wildly, flames licking at temple walls, blood staining the marble steps of the throne room.
"Am I repeating her madness… or perfecting it?" she whispered to the mirror. "Is this how legacy is born — in fire and fear?"
Lira's voice echoed in her memory, like a fading heartbeat:
"Power takes more than you're willing to give. And it will break you — just as it broke your mother."
But Sitara was past fear now.
"She broke because she hesitated," Sitara muttered, eyes burning with something close to resolve. "I won't."
She turned from the mirror, crown steady, her decision sealed.
"Let the kingdom burn," she said softly. "So I can build it new — in my image."
part 2: The Broken Prince
Vivaan stood alone in the courtyard, the flickering firelight dancing across his trembling hands. His magic was out of control, flaring with every breath.
"I loved her," he whispered, voice shaking. "I still do. But what she's becoming… I don't recognize her anymore."
Every vision haunted him. The one where he knelt before Sitara, not as her equal but as her prisoner — a willing sacrifice to her hunger for power.
"This isn't love anymore," he told the fire, voice raw. "This is surrender."
He clenched his fists, the flames reacting violently. A servant ran past, whispering of rebellion, of Ravindra's gathering forces.
"They think she's the villain," Vivaan said. "But they don't see the girl I knew."
He paused. "And maybe… she doesn't exist anymore."
Part -3: A Love Consumed
Midnight draped the sanctum ruins in silver light. Sitara stood alone, her cloak billowing, the crown casting long shadows.
Vivaan arrived, breathless.
"Sitara," he said. "Don't do this. Please."
She didn't turn.
"You shouldn't have come."
"You're scaring me," he confessed, stepping closer. "And maybe that's what scares you, too — that I still love you. That someone still does."
"Love?" she echoed, finally looking at him. "Love is a chain. And I broke mine the moment I chose the Crown."
"You haven't broken anything," he said. "You're just running from the part of you that still wants to be saved."
She looked at him then — really looked. And for a heartbeat, her face cracked.
"I don't want to be saved," she said, voice barely a whisper. "Not if it means being weak again."
"It doesn't," he insisted. "It means being you again. The you who believed in more than power."
But the Crown pulsed, and Sitara's expression hardened.
"She's dead," Sitara said. "I killed her the moment the kingdom needed someone stronger."
He reached for her — and the Crown lashed out, a burst of force flinging him back. Fire exploded around him, fueled by grief.
"I was wrong," he whispered through scorched breath. "I thought we could fix this together. But I've lost you."
"Yes," Sitara said, turning away. "You have."
Part 4: The Kingdom's Collapse
Wind howled through the crumbling alleyways. Smoke curled from rooftops. The city bled rebellion.
In a narrow corridor, Aasha crouched behind a broken column, torn scrolls clutched in her hands. She had heard it all — Ravindra's plots, Sitara's final choice.
"What do I do?" she whispered. "Which truth is worse — the one that destroys her… or the one that saves her and destroys the rest?"
In the distance, firelight flickered in the sky like a second sunrise. Screams echoed. Soldiers clashed.
Inside the palace, Vivaan was unraveling.
"She's going to raze it all," he muttered, pacing. "The city. The throne. Me."
His magic surged out of him in violent bursts, scorching the stone beneath his feet. His control was slipping.
He slammed his hand against a pillar, leaving charred cracks behind.
"What good is prophecy if it only tells you the end?" he growled. "Where was the part where we saved each other?"
Part 5: A Kingdom Ripped Apart
The sound of boots echoed in the hall as Minister Ravindra stepped into view. He looked like a man already crowned, already victorious.
"You should have let her fall before she rose," Ravindra said. "Now she's unstoppable — and so am I."
Vivaan's flames erupted from his palms.
"You used her."
"No," Ravindra said, smiling. "She used you. That's what makes her worthy of the crown."
Vivaan launched forward, fire spiraling, but Ravindra only laughed.
"Strike me down, Prince. Watch how quickly the people forget your mercy."
"This isn't mercy," Vivaan growled. "It's the last warning."
Ravindra's smile faded.
"You think you can still reach her," he said. "But she's already chosen the flames. And soon… you'll have to choose your side."
Vivaan stood amid the ruin, the smoke, the betrayal — and the crushing truth that no matter what side he chose, someone would fall.
End Scene
Far across the capital, Sitara stood on a tower's edge, the wind carrying the scent of ash and rebellion. She held her crown steady with one hand, her other clenched tightly.
"This is what they feared," she whispered. "Let them see it. Let them burn for it."
At the same time, in the depths of the palace, Vivaan knelt before a shattered map, flames dancing across his shoulders. His whisper was nearly identical.
"If I become what they fear to stop her… will she ever forgive me?"
Both stood in silence, haunted by the same question:
If I become what they fear… will you still love me then?