The warrior and Celestia ran for the Valley of Fire. It was not as grand in scale as one would imagine. In thirty paces a normal person could walk the space to the other side or cross the narrow bridge that led to the Crown of Command. It was the intensity of the heat that made the Valley as impassable as if it were a thousand leagues. Without the protection of the Talisman they would have been burnt to vapor before they could complete a half step. There were no flames as they expected, just a shimmering from the waves of heat that radiated from the place.

As it was they cautiously crept up the narrow footbridge, the warrior noted that it, and the land about the Valley was composed of the same unearthly stone as the Talisman. They did not recognize the man that was now in the chamber of the Crown, from the raised vantage point of the bridge he saw the Prophetess running towards them, and as if being allowed a full view of the world, he also saw the Ghoul approaching.

A rival that none of them had been aware of had been on the Quest and he was near to making his claim. The warrior turned to enter the chamber when they all felt it, a crushing blow that was unlike any wound or draining of essence they had experienced before. The new rival had donned the Crown and he was using it to pour ice water onto the flame of their lives!

The warrior recalled what the Prophetess had said; he could still challenge the usurper for the Crown. He leapt into the chamber and the Wizard turned a livid hue in his rage. Too close now to use the Crown he unleashed the formula of his vocation. A ray of black fire that would burn this swordsman’s soul! Yet it had no effect!

The warrior had braced himself for yet more assaults on his mortality but he was surprised to note that there was no effect from the Wizards arcane powers. The Amulet! It was proof against magical forces, not so powerful as to protect against the Crown but he had the best armor possible now.

All of the Wizards legerdemain was useless as the Warrior advanced and for the first time on the Quest, the Wizard considered that he might fail.

The Warrior attacked with all he was worth and was oddly pleased that the Wizard did not go down without giving him a plausible contest, the old man had a power of the mind that no protection could thwart and this caused the warrior some hurts and no little concern as his mind was assaulted. The learned old man had lacked true skill at arms however and the battle ended in the only way it could have.

He turned to see the Prophetess at the far side of the bridge, she gazed up with sorrow.

“We have a bargain dear lady. Do you keep your part or do we shed more blood?”

Her eyes began to well up and she was about to speak when a phlegm filled throat cried out “Mine!” Filthy and discolored hands ripped at her and clutched for the chain that bore the Talisman she possessed.

The Ghoul and the Prophetess struggled, the Ghouls hands gripped the woman’s supple flesh but he could not truly feel the softness under his fingers and this enraged him even more! He had other lusts that he could satisfy, and he bent to that purpose.

“Use it!” she called out. “Use the Crown!”

“If I cannot control who it affects you will be damaged by it as well!” the warrior called back.

“It is your only chance! Without me he cannot withstand the Crown for long. I feel it.” The Ghoul clasped his cold hand across her mouth and bent to feed on her.

The warrior looked sorrowfully at the Maiden; he cast side the Amulet for he sensed it would impede his use of the Crown. While the Crown could over power the protection of the Amulet, the medallion stifled the flow of energy that was required to activate the Crown. Like starting a bon fire, one had to use tinder and flint before the blaze could begin in earnest. He placed the Crown on his head.

The warrior could see...everything. The world was before him but in an abstract play of colors and sensations that was more real than reality it self. Bright spots of various colors moved about, some larger, others brighter. Many would fade and disappear whilst others sprang into being to replace them. He was seeing the whole of humanity and the living world as the lights of their souls. In front of him he saw two powerful lights in a battle, one was diminished and it was trying to take a portion of what was left from the other.

He focused his will and the power of the Crown smote them like a block of ice. The Prophetess released one last fragment of arcane knowledge to protect her from this attack and hoped that it would be enough.

The Ghoul relinquished its hold on her and reeled, clutching the Talisman he had stolen. His eyes became unfocused and he swayed as if drunk. “Mine.” It said feebly. “My right...”

The Ghoul sunk to its knees and then it slumped forward with its face pressed to the green stone. It had died its second and final death within steps of the goal that drove it back from the grave.