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When Joel first held the Midas Crown, he expected sparks to fly or humming electricity to pass through his veins. What actually happened was rather anti-climatic. He swept it straight out of Scott's hands... And nothing happened. It was an average temperature to the touch and the design itself seemed underwhelming when compared to the others' descriptions, just a simple gold crown with a few embedded gems. The Mezalean Emperor was less than impressed. His own crown he had forged himself was only slightly paled in comparison, and that was just down to it not having as many jewels etched into the golden surface. Still, there was no time for him to wonder about this, focusing on returning to his empire quickly; he could hear the angry calls of Scott and the noises of confusion from Fwhip who the King of Rivendell was attempting to pass the diadem over to. Shame Joel had scuppered that plan really. However, it did mean the Stag King was furious and opened his non-elytra wings to give chase.
When Joel did arrive home again, landing a smooth elytra-aided dismount outside his palace, he took a moment to think. Once this crown was placed upon his head, whatever he said became law, enforced by the faint magical energy of the world around him. Not all the rulers enjoyed the effects of this, Joel included. He wasn't a Wizard like Gem, or a Hybrid like Lizzie, or even an Elf like Scott. The Mezalean Emperor was a human and possessed absolutely no world-shattering abilities. He was just Joel. Rich, powerful and ruler of the most beautiful empire there was, but still just Joel. Maybe he should wish for that, some kind of power. Was that how the crown worked? The others had used it to enforce rules onto each other, it's possible that's all it could do. It wasn't like a genie in a bottle that could grant the Emperor three wishes relating to whatever he wanted. It had actually been really inconvenient what they had tried to enforce before losing the crown. He had had to completely redesign his base to accommodate the cod sanctuary Jimmy had demanded, and being banned from flying under Scott meant travelling was much harder. Fortunately, he'd disparaged that one with his prior theft, but there was still lingering irritation to the man.
In short, Joel was getting a bit sick of the other monarchs.
Sure, Jimmy was his ally, but he was getting bored of having to bail him out of situations. And yeah, Lizzie was his wife and he loved her beyond compare, but all she seemed to do now was tease how small he was when stood next to her. It was a petty thing for Joel to let get under his skin, but the constant little jokes were irking him in a way that was beginning to pile up greatly. He wasn't particularly close with anyone else, but all of their talk of demons and corruption that was just simply not true was starting to anger him. Joel came to the conclusion they'd all be better off being more like him. Not getting in anyone's way, keeping to themselves and not bothering anyone with morbidity. How many times did he have to tell them there was no demon running amok?!
And then Joel had the perfect idea of what to say when he put on the crown.
It was the perfect option, a little peace and quiet for once. He could focus on his Palace without being constantly hounded for help and it would temporarily stop any altercations that were occurring. (If there were any. The Mezalean Emperor didn't care enough to keep up with the goings-on. He just knew he was supposed to hate Fwhip for some reason.) He curled his fingers tight around the wrought metal, pausing slightly before lowering it onto his head and clearing his throat. He felt a little foolish standing there with the crown nestled in his curls about to speak out loud. It seemed silly and trivial, but he did it anyway.
“I want all the other rulers, Sausage, Pixl, Katherine, Pearl, Shelby, Joey… Everyone! I want all of them to become clones of me,” He finished his request hurriedly, ripping the band-aid off. There was no undoing it now, He’d said the words, It would be done.
Only now did the Midas Crown come alive with the magic Joel expected of it, a bright white light emitting from the gems, or at least that’s what he assumed given he could only see the iridescence coming from the top of his head. A drone of static began to exude from the crown, slowly increasing with volume. It set Joel on edge almost, not quite expecting the way it infiltrated his eardrums like they might burst from the pressure at any single second as the sound got louder and louder and louder and- And it stopped. The glow too, vanished. In retrospect, the Mezalean Emperor was a bit disappointed there was no dramatic lightning strike, but beggars can’t be choosers.
A noise to his left startled him, the sound of wings closing and encroaching footsteps. Oh yeah, right, Scott had been chasing after him. He snatched the crown off his head, ensuring to keep a hold of it still as the sound of movement got closer. Joel didn’t really have a plan, he had no weapon, just his ability to run should things go wrong. Maybe he could negotiate his way out of this. There was hope for that yet.
When the person he expected to be Scott arrived though, he was shocked to see his own face staring back at him.
In all honesty, he hadn’t expected his decree to work so quickly. It was a strange experience seeing his face in front of him and Joel had to restrain himself from becoming critical about an out of place beard-hair or the fading of his signature green streak gracing his forehead. What made the experience stranger still was the fact he knew this was Scott a few seconds ago because the clone still wore the cyan and white gown of the Rivendell King. It was laughable really, to see such contrasting colours to his olive green and magenta, but the Emperor had to say, he didn’t look bad in a dress. Lizzie, in all her years of suggesting he try a looser garment as such, may have been on to something. And then, to his surprise, the ‘Once Scott’ spoke.
“Hi, Joel, I’m Joel!” He watched himself stick out a hand to shake.
All the Mezalean King could do was howl with laughter. This had been his best idea ever!
~~~
This had been his worst idea ever.
For the first few days, everything was bliss. Joel had made more progress on his Palace than ever before, and was really rather pleased with how magnificent it looked. He hadn’t had a single person bother him, ask to help get revenge or go on a silly excursion. It felt good to finally be able to fully determine what he wanted to do at all times. And then the loneliness had hit.
He hadn’t been expecting it to sweep him so hard. One day, Joel simply woke up and felt bored. On days like these, he visited Lizzie, but as predicted when he flew over, all he found was himself in her trademark blue dress which was most certainly not cut for him at all. He’d tried talking to the clone, but he was literally just talking to himself, which he already did most of the time when building. Turns out he wasn’t exciting conversation.
So he just had to figure out a way to reverse the rule.
Joel’s first attempt was just putting the crown on the ground. That hadn’t worked, he supposed it was still technically in his possession if it was in his Empire, so he left it in Pixandria. Also not successful. After this, Joel was starting to panic and get desperate. It was reversible, right? He admitted he had been too brash, should have thought harder, or created a loophole in his law to prevent this. Unfortunately, he had done neither of those things and was now stuck with the Midas Crown and a heap of regret, both weighing heavier on him with each passing day. He tried burying it, burning it, throwing it in the ocean. He even tried making another law to bring everyone back to normal, despite knowing the rule, it was one decree per person.
By the third week, Joel was losing hope and losing sleep. He barely ate anymore, he himself feeling like a meal to the remorse and fear that consumed a little more of him each day. The only emotion he refused to feel was self-pity. Joel was not a selfish man, he recognised this was his own doing and therefore his responsibility to fix. His ego and self-interest had gotten him into this mess, it was not about to follow him through so he could wail and wallow in narcissism.
Then the idea struck him. He could simply give the crown away. Taking it from Scott had immediately revoked his rule of no flying, if he handed it off to a clone, surely it would do the same and eliminate all effects, and things could go back to normal? But looking back now, he saw how naive of an idea that was.
Joel soon found out that the flaw in this plan was the fact that anyone he could give the Midas Crown away to, was himself. He tried every single ruler in their current form reflecting his face back at him. And each time it had failed and failed and failed so much that the Mezalean Emperor, the real one, felt he might simply collapse and let the threatening sobs wrack his body. There might not have been a demon around, but there was a curse, and that was him.
He, Joel, Emperor of Mezalea, Leader of Jeremy, Slayer of Horses, Collector of Sand… Was the curse.
And over time, the energy began to drain from Joel until there was barely anything left. His clones, his damn clones of the people he loved were more like him than he was. The Mezalean Palace seemed almost doomed to sit three-quarters completed for the rest of time. He couldn’t shake the shame and the guilt that clung to him like an invasive disease. Could never quell the blaze of self-loathing that sparked up when he least expected it, hitting him right in the heart and making him double over where he stood, sobbing and clutching at his sash. Such monarchal clothing seemed ill-fitting and trivial now, like a giant’s robe dwarfing him and swallowing him up. He was not a monarch, he was a monster.
Not a single thought of hatred for his actions was ever dispelled. Joel was doomed to continue on in his tragic existence so utterly alone and so utterly anguished. There was no sort of escape, despite the numerous Gods he screamed and lamented to, letting the salt spray of the ocean mingle in with his tears, another reminder of his failure. Lizzie was gone, lost forever to his own foolishness and egocentricity.
Joel had made a mistake, and it was truly irreversible.