Page 25 of Eternal Thorns

A sharp tap at the window cut him off. A raven perched on the sill, its feathers gleaming with unnatural iridescence. A rolled message was tied to its leg with silver thread.

“Because this night wasn't weird enough already,” Kai muttered, but he moved to open the window. The raven hopped inside with decidedly un-birdlike grace, fixing Silas with eyes that held far too much intelligence.

The message bore the Witch of Blackbriar Hollow's flowing script, the ink still wet as if the words were forming as he read them:

Young Guardian, The magic you've awakened will draw attention - not all of it welcome. The journal's revelations are powerful things, especially at night when the veil between past and present grows thin. Your key responds to old truths, but remember that truth has many faces.

Most critically: pay attention to your dreams in the coming nights. What you see may be meant not just to teach, but to test. Some memories seek not just to inform, but to understand.

Be careful, be wise, and above all, be honest - with yourself most of all.

- Agnes

P.S. Remember that every memory has two sides. What you see may be truth, but it may not be the whole truth.

The raven remained perched on the windowsill, its head cocked expectantly. Up close, Silas noticed patterns in its feathers that matched the key's engravings.

“She wants a response, doesn't she?” he asked the bird, which clicked its beak in what seemed like affirmation.

“Great,” Kai said. “Now we're taking instructions from magical ravens. Any other childhood fairy tale elements want to show up tonight?”

But Silas was already writing, the key's warmth guiding his hand:

We saw memories of Marcus and Thorne. Not just images - feelings too. The key showed us something about their relationship, something that feels important. But if these are tests, what are we being tested for?

The raven accepted his note with surprising delicacy. Before taking flight, it fixed him with one final knowing look, as if to say:You already know the answer to that question.

“So,” Kai said as they watched it disappear into the darkness, “I'm guessing sleep is out of the question after all that?”

Silas touched the key, which had settled into a steady, comforting warmth. The shadow scenes lingered in his mind, particularly that last image of Thorne. The guardian he'd met last night carried centuries of pain and betrayal. But he hadn't always been that way. That smile, that openness, that capacity for trust - it was all still there, buried under grief and time.

Sleep ambushedSilas somewhere between one page of Marcus’ journal and the next. The transition felt strange - not the usual slow drift into dreams, but a deliberate sliding sideways into somewhere else. Somewhere that felt more real than any dream he'd known.

He stood in Thornhaven's grand hall, but not the dusty, shadow-filled space he knew. This hall blazed with life and light. Enchanted candles floated near the ceiling, their flames shifting through rainbow hues. The wooden panels that lined the walls rippled with forest magic, their carved scenes moving like living things.

“The wards need strengthening here,” said a familiar voice, though its tone was entirely unfamiliar.

Thorne stood by the massive fireplace, but this version of the forest guardian bore little resemblance to the bitter spirit who'd confronted Silas. His power flowed like summer starlight, warm and bright. The markings on his skin danced with colors beyond shadow and frost.

“The stone's resistant,” another voice replied, and Silas's breath caught. A young man approached the fireplace, and it was like looking in a mirror that showed a slightly different version of himself. Marcus Ashworth carried himself with the same grace Silas recognized from family portraits, but there was something else - an openness, a burning curiosity that felt startlingly familiar.

“Stone remembers,” Thorne said, running his hand along the carved mantlepiece. “It holds the echo of its creation. We need to work with that memory, not against it.”

Marcus moved closer, and Silas saw what he held - the key, new and bright, its engravings sharp and clear. “Like this?” He pressed it to the stone, and power flowed from his hands. Forest magic and human craft merged, creating patterns that sang with both ancient and new energy.

Thorne's smile transformed his entire being. “Exactly like that. You're learning faster than any human I've taught.”

“I have a good teacher.” The warmth in Marcus's voice made something in Silas's chest ache. This was trust in its purest form - two beings from different worlds, building something beautiful together.

They moved through the hall, weaving protections into the manor's bones. Thorne's power flowed like summer rain, gentle but inexorable. Marcus followed his lead with obvious joy in the work, using the key to bridge their different magics. Wherever they passed, hybrid enchantments bloomed.

“The barrier doesn't have to separate,” Marcus said, watching their magics dance together. “It can connect instead, can't it? Protect while still allowing growth?”

“Now you understand.” Thorne's expression held something beyond mere approval. “This is what was lost, when humans and fey first drew lines between their realms. We forgot we could be stronger together.”

Silas watched them work, his dream-self moving through the scene like a ghost.

This was what Thornhaven had been meant to be. Not a barrier between worlds, but a bridge. Not a prison of memories, but a place where two realms could meet in trust and shared purpose.

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