Page 23 of Eternal Thorns

“This changes nothing,” he insisted. “His resemblance to Marcus makes him more dangerous, not less. History repeating itself”

“Then explain this.” The Elder Willow's power flowed outward, connecting them to every root and branch in the forest. Through their shared sight, Thorne saw how the forest itself responded to Silas's presence. Young saplings leaned toward Thornhaven like flowers tracking the sun. Ancient trees stirred with recognition, their magic singing notes that hadn't been heard since before the betrayal.

“The forest remembers,” Rowan said quietly. “Not the betrayal, but what came before. The harmony that once existed between our realms.”

“The forest is deceived by his appearance,” Thorne argued, but his voice lacked conviction.

The Elder Willow's laugh rustled like autumn leaves. “The forest sees more truly than you, Guardian. It remembers what you've forced yourself to forget - that before there was betrayal, there was trust. Before vengeance, there was love.”

The word struck Thorne like a physical blow. His form destabilized completely, showing what he truly looked like beneath centuries of carefully constructed walls. The obsidian mirror caught it all - the pain, the longing, the fear of hope that hurt worse than any betrayal.

“The prophecy speaks of choices,” the Elder Willow continued, gentler now. “Not just his, but yours as well. The path forward requires both guardian and returner to choose differently than their predecessors.”

“And if we choose wrong?” Thorne forced his form to stabilize. “If history truly does repeat itself?”

“Then what waits in the shadows will devour both realms.” Rowan's bluntness was almost welcome after the Elder Willow's riddling. “The darkness you sensed today? It's what happens when grief and betrayal are allowed to fester for centuries. What your pain and Marcus's broken oaths created between them.”

The prophecy stones pulsed brighter, casting Thorne's shifting reflection across their surface. In each flash of light, he caught glimpses of what he'd been, what he could be again. The forest's magic swelled around them, carrying echoes of songs long forgotten - harmonies that had once bound human and fey magic together.

“The choice was always going to come,” the Elder Willow said. “We merely didn't know it would wear such a familiar face.”

Thorne touched the burns on his spectral flesh where Silas's key had marked him. They no longer hurt, instead pulsing with a warmth that felt disturbingly like possibility.

“I have a proposal,” he said, the words emerging before he could reconsider. Both ancient spirits turned to him with identical expressions of careful interest. “Instead of waiting for Silas to blunder through the forest hunting those journals, risking both his life and our secrets...”

“Yes?” The Elder Willow prompted when he hesitated.

“I'll test him directly. Through dreams.” Thorne began pacing, his form shifting between shadow and substance as he worked out the details. “I can show him selected memories - what we built together, what trust looked like before betrayal shattered it.”

“Dream-walking is dangerous magic,” Rowan warned. “Especially with one who carries such strong echoes of the past. The connection it creates could be exploited.”

“By the darkness gathering at our borders?” Thorne's laugh held no humor. “That's exactly why we can't wait. Something older than my grief is stirring, drawn by his presence and the key's power. At least this way, I control what he learns and how he learns it.”

But even as he spoke, Thorne recognized another truth beneath his practical arguments. Part of him needed to understand - to know if this Ashworth was truly different or just another verse in an endless tragic ballad. The burns on his flesh pulsed in agreement, betraying desires he'd thought long buried.

The Elder Willow studied him with ancient eyes. “You wish to show him memories of Marcus.”

“I wish to show him truth,” Thorne corrected, though his form flickered at the name. “Let him see what partnership between realms truly meant. What it cost when that trust was broken.”

“And if seeing those memories awakens something in you as well?” Her roots shifted beneath her. “Dream-walking flowsboth ways, Guardian. He will see your pain as much as the events that caused it.”

The obsidian mirror caught Thorne's reflection again, showing how his power rippled between past and present at the very thought. But he held firm. “Better that than watching him walk blindly into dangers he doesn't understand.”

“Very well.” The Elder Willow's consent carried the weight of prophecy. “But hear my warning, Thorne - in seeking to test him, take care you don't reveal too much of your own heart. Some wounds, when reopened, bleed both ways.”

Thorne's burns tingled with phantom warmth, as if the key's power already reached for him across the distance. Tonight, he would enter Silas's dreams, would share memories he'd locked away for centuries. Would discover whether this Ashworth could face the past without repeating it.

He just hoped his own heart remembered how to handle truth without shattering all over again.

9

DREAMS OF ANOTHER TIME

The library's massive windows turned the sunset into stained glass art, painting the scattered papers around Silas in shades of amber and rose. He'd been at this for hours, surrounded by notes and sketches, the bark-bound journal open before him like a riddle waiting to be solved.

“That's the fifth time you've rubbed your eyes in ten minutes,” Kai observed from his post by the fireplace. “Maybe time for a break?”

“Almost got this part.” Silas squinted at a particularly stubborn passage. The text seemed to crawl across the page, rearranging itself every time he looked directly at it. “Hand me the key?”