Page 97 of Shattered Crown
Before Silas could argue further, his father appeared on the palace steps. King Thomas looked between them, taking in the urgency of the situation.
“Go,” he said simply. “Take what you need. The alliance depends on our guardian friends. We cannot fail them now.”
The unexpected support caught Silas off guard. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Within minutes, they had assembled a small but capable group. Diana selected her most trusted guards while Kai gathered supplies. They rode hard for the forest border, pushing their mounts to the limit.
The change became apparent long before they reached the Eldergrove proper. Trees that had stood proud now drooped with visible grief. The very air felt wounded, heavy with loss and unstable magic. Their horses grew increasingly nervous, forcing them to dismount and continue on foot.
“Gods above,” Kai whispered. “What happened here?”
A flicker of movement caught Silas's attention. Briar materialized from the shadows, but this wasn't the cheerful sprite he remembered. Her luminous skin had dimmed to pale gray, her usual quick movements replaced by exhausted dragging. Tear tracks marked her cheeks.
“Silas,” she said, her voice hollow. “You came.”
“Of course I came. Where's Thorne?”
Briar's lower lip trembled. “He's... different. The transformation... it changed him.” She gestured for them to follow. “Stay close. Some paths aren't safe anymore. Reality gets... slippery.”
They moved through the devastated forest, Briar guiding them around areas where the ground itself seemed to breathe, where trees whispered in languages that hurt to hear. Silas felt the corruption pressing against his mind, insidious whispers trying to worm their way into his thoughts.
“Don't listen,” Briar warned. “The Shadowblight's growing stronger. It feeds on doubt and fear.”
Silas focused on his bond with Thorne, using it as an anchor against the mental assault. Through their connection, he felt Thorne's presence growing stronger, but also stranger. The familiar warmth was there, but layered with something vast and alien.
They crested a rise, and Silas saw him.
Thorne stood in the center of a clearing, and for a moment, Silas forgot how to breathe. His lover had been transformed into something otherworldly. Skin that once held sun-warmth now glowed with inner light, luminous as moonlight on water. His hair flowed like liquid silver, moving in winds that touched nothing else. When he turned, his eyes contained depths that seemed to stretch into infinity, holding reflections of ancient forests and starlight.
Beautiful. Terrible. And utterly, devastatingly alone.
“Thorne,” Silas breathed.
Those impossible eyes focused on him, and Silas saw the recognition war with cosmic awareness. Thorne's lips moved, forming words that resonated through the trees with harmonics that made reality vibrate.
“She's gone.”
Two words, carrying the weight of worlds. Elder Willow's loss echoed in every syllable, grief so profound it transcended language.
Silas didn't hesitate. He crossed the clearing in quick strides, ignoring the way power crackled around Thorne's transformed form. When he pulled Thorne into his arms, energy sparked between them, making his skin tingle and his hair stand on end.
But beneath the cosmic power, beneath the otherworldly beauty, Silas felt his Thorne. Changed, yes. Transformed, certainly. But still the guardian who held his heart.
Thorne stiffened for a moment, as if he'd forgotten how to be touched. Then something broke. His legs gave way, and Silas followed him down, holding tight as Thorne shattered.
The sound that tore from Thorne's throat wasn't human. It was the forest crying, ancient trees mourning, the very earth expressing loss. Silas held on through it all, anchoring Thorne to something personal, something that wasn't vast responsibility and cosmic awareness.
“I'm here,” Silas murmured, pressing his face against Thorne's silver hair. “I've got you. You're not alone.”
Thorne's fingers dug into Silas's back, clinging with desperate strength. “I couldn't save her,” he choked out between sobs that shook the ground. “All this power, and I couldn't... couldn't...”
“Shh.” Silas stroked Thorne's back, feeling the unfamiliar patterns of energy that traced his skin. “No one could have saved her. Not from this.”
A rustle in the underbrush announced new arrivals. Elena emerged first, having traveled separately with additional forces. Behind her came others who had felt the magical shift and rushed to help.
“We felt it even in the capital,” Elena said, approaching slowly. “Every magical being for miles felt the transformation.”
More figures appeared from the forest paths. Eliar stepped into the clearing, his celestial nature resonating with Thorne's transformation. The exiled Star Guardian's eyes held deep understanding as he approached.
