Prompt: You wander through the ruins of a once mighty city. There you see a man grinning at you. Wearing a rusted crown.

        The stranger had been walking for weeks, stopping only at night to rest and eat. It had been a long and tiring journey, but would soon be worth it. Goldmire was just ahead, hidden in the Whitehaven peaks. It was said that long ago Goldmire was a mighty city, its boundaries sprawling for miles, and its riches filling the biggest vaults. There was nothing that Goldmire didn't have, there was nothing that the king didn't have. Except a wife, for you see; for all the king had to love, he had no one to love him. 

    So it is said, that one day he had enough, the mighty king decided to make a pact with the devil, swearing his kingdom away for a chance at love. A pact was made; somewhere in the world was someone who would give the king their whole heart. However, he only had a year and 6 days to find them. If he didn't, then his kingdom would be given to the demon, and the king would be forced to live for all of eternity on Acherion.

    The legend goes that the king searched, he searched high and low. From the very northern tips of the world to the very southern tips, and still he found no one. When at last a year and 6 days had passed the devil came to him, taking his kingdom by force and leaving him to haunt its ruins; wearing an iron crown.

        The stranger continued walking, her thoughts occupied by the legends surrounding The Rusting City. She walked for hours, thinking of the gold and riches she would gain when she got to her destination. By the time she stopped for the night, the sun was hanging low in the sky; setting between two mountains as it lit the sky up in a fiery orange. She set up her camp, making a small firepit and pitching a tent. As she ate her meal that night she looked over her map once again, triple checking how far she had to go. By this time tomorrow she would be bathing in gold, and with the magic relics that were said to dwell in the city, her return trip would be much quicker. 
    That night, she fell asleep dreaming of gold haunted by spirits, and devils taking her earthly possessions. In the morning she awoke, her entire body burning and sore; a thousand knots filling her spine. She had a simple meal of kittilal bread, a bread known for how long it lasted during trips, before breaking camp and resuming her journey.

        By midday she would make it into the Rusted City. In fact, she could already see it now, a dark thread of towers that protruded out of the mountains. Since she had been told how to find the secret passage that lead to the city, finding it when she arrived at the base of the mountain was no issue. Neither was opening it using the series of protruding stones, that when pushed in allowed you to enter a sort of code. 

       She pushed open the massive stone door, its hinges stiff and creaking from not being used for centuries. A deep darkness lay on the other side, oozing out from the tight corridor that led up into the mountain. She sighed as she pulled out an unlit torch, striking her flint and steel to light to warm the Sufrum gel that coated the clothe. It ignited in a rush, having reached its combustion point it cast a large blue shadow, illuminating the area and tunnel ahead.

       The stranger stepped through, letting the heavy stone door slam shut behind her as she disappeared into the darkness. Becoming nothing more than an indistinct blue glow in the distance. She walked for what felt like centuries, never stopping to rest as she trudged through the dark, stepping through muck and holes until at last she came out into the blinding daylight. 

       When the stranger emerged from the dark tunnel, she couldn't tell if the sun was just rising or setting for the day. Either way she had walked for hours, and she deserved a break. Her very bones ached after her long journey, so she set up her camp. Having decided to leave exploring the city for tomorrow, she took out a package wrapped in brown cloth. This was her celebratory meal for having made it here, a small portion of sliced Frestnoch meat that had been smoked to preserve its taste. 
    After having eaten kittilal bread for the months of her journey, a bite of anything else tasted like heaven. Each bite feel apart on her tongue, the texture felt like pure gold. A single mouthful was enough to fill her up, no wonder this stuff was so illegal. It tasted like it was worthy of the gods. 

       Once she was done eating, she quickly packed up the rest of her food before wrapping herself in a thin Nadinian blanket and swiftly falling asleep.

        The stranger woke up in the morning to find her small camp had been dissected, every item taken out of her bag; and long claw marks led away from her camp. Deep into the city towards the tall spiraling towers that reached up up up and into the sky. She shivered, she had heard legends of such things happening to visitors of the city. People who visited told of how the demon that had long ago taken the city still roamed its streets, scaring would be thieves off from its pride.

        The stranger packed up her camp, never noticing the dark figures that watched her from doorways and windows, never noticing the regal figure who stood aways down the road, watching with an iron crown on his head. 
    By the time the stranger had packed up all her stuff and turned around, the shadows were gone. Having disappeared in fleeting wisps of smoke that blew deeper into the city.

        Her footsteps echoed throughout the empty city as she followed her map to the vaults, the treasures of the city would soon be hers. An uncountable number of gems and gold just for her, along with long forgotten relics from the age of Myths. As she made her way under a fallen building the wind picked up, at first nothing more than a gentle whistle; it quickly picked up into gusts, carrying the screams and voices of those who lived long ago with it.
    The wind chilled her to the bone, the voices striking fear into her walk. She didn't know what was happening in this city, first her stuff being pulled out, now with these mysterious voices chasing her. She just wanted to get that treasure and get out. 

        The lone figure of a man standing up ahead made her stop in her tracks; his posture held high with confidence, and his head was adorned with a rusted iron crown. It was him. King Fullwillow, the Slave of Goldmire. his presence sent chills down her spine, but at the same time lured her him. It coaxed her towards him, drawing her in to speak with him. 

        "Hello, Aura. I have been waiting for you to come. You have come to take his treasure, what used to be my treasure. Like many others who have come before you; you will fail. Unless I help you." King Fullwillow's voice was as smooth as honey, and his smile instantly vaporized any of Aura's worries, she didn't know why. It just did. She found herself trusting him immediately. King Fullwillow had lived for centuries, wandering these ruins long before she ever breathed. He would help her take her treasure. 

        "I-" Aura tried to speak, but it felt like honey was sliding down her throat, she couldn't form any words. She couldn't speak, just make gurgling noises. King Fullwillow looked at her at first in surprise, then recognition. 

        "Ah, I am sorry. It has been so long since I have had visitors here. Do not worry about your voice, it is one of the effects of the crown I bear. None whom I lay my eyes upon are able to speak." King Fullwillow looked at her apologetically, as if to say 'you know how it is'. "We should continue moving, if we stay in any one place for to long he will find us. As you learned this morning. And please. Call me Kaira. To many people have used my honorific in my life. I want nothing more than to be your friend." King- No. Kaira looked at her gently before turning and continuing up the road, his short raven hair gently blowing in the wind. 

        Aura tried to follow him, but found that no matter how fast she went; Kaira stayed just ahead of her, his form gently flickering in and out of existence. They continued this way for hours; her never being able to fully catch up to him, and there being no sound other than the constant wind whistling in her ear. 
    The sun had climbed high into the sky by the time they reached the gates to the palace. They must have been made out of solid gold, though the gold was... Rusting? Two large marble and onyx statues adorned either side of the entrance, holding their spears high up in the air. 

        Kaira pushed open the doors, their hinges screaming in agony as they slowly swung open; inside the darkness loomed like a beast, threatening to attack any intruders. A rush of stale air billowed out, rumbling in Aura's ears, straining her movements forward until it died away.

    Inside the palace was a series of evenly spaced tall pillars constructed out of a myriad of stones. Between each pillar stood a statue of what Aura assumed to be past kings. After a number of statues, Kaira stopped; his face a mixture of what looked to be regret and sadness. 

        "I failed them. I was their king. Their leader. They put their trust in me, and I betrayed it. I sold them to a demon for nothing more than empty promises and half truths. He told me that someone out there would love me. He didn't say when they would exist, nor if they had already died. My search was in vain, my people's sacrifices inefficacious..." Kaira trailed off, his voice becoming weak as tears came to his eyes, Aura felt a small pang of sympathy for him, "Anyways, what's past is past. We cannot change decisions made out of error, only learn from our mistakes and continue on. It is what we have always done as a race. It is what we shall always do; keep moving." Karia's tone became resolute as he finished, giving his words a sense of finality. 

    Before Aura could respond, he turned and continued deeper into the palace; not stopping until he reached a small winding staircase that descended deep into the mountain. Her breath hitched. She hated tight spaces. 

        Nevertheless, she followed; plunging deep into the earth after the now glowing Kaira.... Why was he glowing. Was that some kind of ghost autoimmune response to darkness? Whatever it was it helped alot. The walls glowed in a soft white, revealing the path ahead of her as well as evenly space brackets that held long burnt torches. 

        The air grow noticeably colder as they descended; eventually Aura's breath turned to mist in front of her. Just when her legs threatened to give out for walking to long, the ground evened