Chapter 32 The Final Kingdom
The Final Kingdom
The Kingdom of Will didn’t look like a kingdom.
There were no gates. No guards. No walls to define the edges of what was inside and what was outside like all the other kingdoms we’d been to so far. It was just an open field rolling endlessly into the horizon, golden grass swaying under a pale sky that seemed both dawn and sunset all at once.
“It’s too quiet,” Tarran noted beside me.
She was right. No wind, no birds, no insects. No signs of life at all. And yet…I felt like I was being watched.
It wasn’t an empty silence. It was waiting.
We took a few tentative steps forward, and the ground shifted beneath us.
One moment, we were in a field. The next, a cobblestone path wound between abstract buildings that seemed to change shape based on where we looked.
Structures shimmered in and out. Castles, cottages, and huts vanished as soon as we turned away.
A kingdom without boundaries.
Tarran reached for my hand, and I grasped hers tightly.
A sudden, booming voice echoed from nowhere:
“Welcome to the Kingdom of Will. Proceed as you wish. What you choose will shape what you see. What you believe will shape what you become.”
“I hate it already,” I muttered.
With no other options, we kept moving.
The further forward we went, the more the path splintered, splitting into dozens of trails. Each one led somewhere different. I glanced left and saw a version of my childhood home before I blinked, and it was gone. To the right, a glimpse of the forest we had just come from.
Behind us, the path to Radiance had vanished.
Only forward, never backward.
We reached a plaza—or at least something resembling one, more like a circular clearing surrounded by doorways. Each was different. A red door, a glass archway, a veil of smoke, a spiral staircase leading upward to nowhere.
No signs, no hints, no answers.
A woman sat in the center, cross-legged on the stones, as if she’d been waiting centuries for someone to arrive. Her face was aged, but her eyes impossibly young.
“You’re arrived,’ she said simply.
I heisted. “Are you the…king? Queen?”
She laughed gently. “I am the mirror. The door. The coin toss. I am…endless possibilities.”
“I have no idea what any of that is supposed to mean.”
“That is unhelpfully vague,” Carl-One threw in, and Carl-Two nodded along.
“Do we choose a door?” Tarran asked, eyes sharp as she regarded the options surrounding us.
The woman tilted her head. “Perhaps.”
I was about to snap her head off when she opened her mouth again to speak. “The Kingdom of Will doesn’t dictate. There is no trial here that ends in one singular answer, only choices. You may not like what it offers you, but in the end, the choices will be yours.”
A beat passed.
Then, the woman looked directly at Tarran, and something in her expression shifted, almost angry, before turning back to me. “You may proceed.”
We walked in silence until we found a door that didn’t stand out in any way. It was just pale wood, smooth and clean. Completely unremarkable.
Tarran hesitated. “What if this one’s wrong?”
I shrugged. “Then we start over.”
She reached forward before I could, her hand closing around the handle. “Together then.”
We stepped through.
The Kingdom of Will didn’t unfold in streets or towers.
Instead, a soft, sprawling village tucked into the curve of a quiet valley, all white stone and moss-covered rooftops, with narrow canals and floating lanterns suspended in midair.
The sky still hadn’t changed. Everything glowed like it had been painted in honey.
A woman greeted us near the first bridge. She wore a robe of woven silver strands and smiled at us warmly.
“You’ve made it. Excellent choice!” Her voice was friendly and chipper. “We’ve been expecting you. Follow, please.”
We passed quiet homes and gardens but saw no one else, just tiny evidence that they existed, like the sway of a curtain or an errant footstep.
“You’ll be staying in the eastern quarters,” the woman explained. “And you may choose to hold your trial sooner if you wish. You do not need to wait the three days.”
I looked to Tarran as I contemplated what she’d said. “Will I know the trial beforehand?”
The woman turned to me. “The trial is really just a conversation between you and the King. If he sees you fit, he’ll give you the key.”
Our shocked expressions must have been comical, because she giggled, giving us a bright smile. “The
king doesn’t believe in making you fight to the death or any of that nonsense. The only requirement is you must bathe in the Hall of Reflection to face your truths before you will be allowed in his presence. Do this, and you could do your trial today.”
That chilled me more than it should have. I should have been ecstatic I could hurry back to my normal life, my normal world, but it just filled me with dread instead. “And if I refuse?”
“Then your time in this kingdom ends here.”
I glanced at Tarran. Her expression was unreadable, but she began wringing her hands again. A low hum came from her, that same haunting song she kept going back to, and I reached out to grip her hand in mine.
“Can anyone come with me?” I asked softly.
The woman gave me a small, curous smile, her eyes not missing the physical contact between us. “If that is your wish. That is the freedom of will. But know this—when two people enter, their truths reflect off one another. You won’t just see yourself.”
Tarran’s eyes found mine. “Then I’m going.”
I swallowed. “You might not like what you see.”
“Neither will you,” she said quietly.
The woman led us to a stone house with a view of the valley, but not before asking us if it was okay. Inside were two beds, soft rugs, a wash basin, and large, sweeping windows.
Before she left, the woman turned once more.
“You must bathe by moonlight,” she said. “It’s the best time for clarity. I’m sure you understand.”
I didn’t, but I nodded anyways, and finally, we were alone.
“Dibs on the bed!” Carl-One shouted, already running to it and tossing his heavy pack on the comforter. The twins began to bicker, but I tuned it all out, hyper focused on the feeling that I was about to be way in over my head.