Page 74 of Shattered Crown
17
RETURN TO THE PALACE
Thorne felt the change before they even reached the first outpost. The forest's pulse grew fainter with each step, like a heartbeat fading under layers of stone. Where wild magic once sang in his blood, now only echoes remained. He flexed his fingers, watching silver sparks sputter and die against his skin.
“Getting homesick already?” Kai's voice carried more observation than jest.
“The land here...” Thorne searched for words. “It remembers what it was. But humans have buried those memories under cobblestone and iron.”
Briar flitted between branches overhead, their usually bright form dimmed in the tamed landscape. “Feels wrong,” they chittered. “Like wearing shoes made of ice.”
Silas shifted closer, his warmth a steady anchor against Thorne's side. Their bond pulsed with unspoken understanding. No words needed for this shared awareness of what they approached: his world, his rules, his father.
A patrol emerged from the morning mist, armor gleaming with royal insignia. The captain's eyes widened at the sight of their group, recognition and protocol warring across his features.
“Lord Ashworth,” he saluted crisply. “We've been searching for you. The capital has... concerns about recent events.”
Thorne watched Silas's posture change. Shoulders straightened, chin lifted, every movement radiating the noble bearing he'd shed in the forest. It was like watching water freeze into ice.
“Captain Reynolds,” Silas acknowledged. “We appreciate the escort but we're here on urgent business.”
The captain's gaze lingered briefly on Nathaniel, then shifted to Thorne. Something like fear flickered in his eyes before he composed himself again. “Of course, my lord. We’ll send word ahead to ensure preparations are made.”
As the soldiers formed ranks around them, Thorne caught fragments of whispered conversations. Words likeguardian,battle, anddarknessdrifted on the wind. News had traveled fast, warped and magnified with each retelling.
“They're afraid of you,” Kai murmured when they resumed walking.
“They should be afraid of what's coming,” Thorne replied. “Fear of me is misplaced energy.”
The road widened, forest giving way to farmland. Each mile stripped another layer of connection until Thorne felt almost naked, exposed. Only his link to Silas remained constant, a lifeline of shared power thrumming between them.
Nathaniel sat upright in his carriage, composed and watchful. As they passed through a small market town, villagers gathered to stare. Whispers followed their procession.
“It's really him,” someone murmured. “The exiled lord, returned after all these years.”
“Come to save us, has he?” another voice asked skeptically.
Nathaniel straightened under their scrutiny, decades of exile giving way to noble bearing. “The Ashworths stand united against the darkness,” he declared, voice carrying despite his physical frailty.
The words rippled through the crowd. Some nodded approval, others remained wary.
“Bold move,” Kai commented quietly. “Making such public declarations.”
“Necessary ones,” Nathaniel replied. “Fear breeds in silence. Truth requires proclamation.”
A raven landed on his shoulder, feathers rustling with urgent whispers. A fox emerged from nearby brush, eyes glowing with Elder Willow's fading light.
The message was clear. Sebastian's influence poisoned the Eldergrove's edges, shadow tendrils reaching deeper each hour. The council struggled to maintain basic protections. Elder Willow herself flickered like a candle in strong wind.
“Bad news?” Silas asked quietly, noting Thorne's darkening expression.
“The forest dies while I play human politics,” Thorne growled. “Elder Willow weakens. The council needs guidance I cannot give from here.”
Understanding dawned in Silas's eyes, followed quickly by resignation. “You have to go back.”
“Not yet,” Thorne insisted. “I won't leave you to face your father alone.”
“I'm not alone,” Silas gestured to their companions. “Kai, Nathaniel, Diana when we arrive. You're needed elsewhere.”
