Page 30 of Eternal Thorns

“Even the streams run darker,” Water Sister murmured, her liquid shape reflecting troubled depths. “As if they're carrying centuries of shed tears back to us.”

“The young ones are dreaming again.” Birch Queen leaned forward, her white bark glowing softly. “Not the gentle dreams of spring and renewal, but visions of the sundering. Dreams they're too young to remember living through.”

“Because they didn't live through them,” Rowan interjected. “These are Thorne's memories bleeding into the forest's consciousness. The entity isn't just feeding on grief - it's spreading it, making us all relive the betrayal.”

“The border guardians report similar disturbances,” added Ash Queen, youngest of the dryad rulers. “Shadow creatures that don't answer to our Guardian's power. They gather near Thornhaven, drawn to the key's magic like moths to flame.”

“Not moths,” Thorne corrected grimly. “More like vultures, circling what they believe will be the site of another breaking.”

“And will it be?” The Elder Willow's question silenced the chamber. “Are we so certain that history must repeat itself?”

Frost Lord, who had remained silent until now, stirred in his seat of crystalline ice. “The young Ashworth responds differently to forest magic. We've all felt it. His touch lacks his ancestor's hunger for power.”

“Which makes him more dangerous, not less,” Thorne argued. “His very genuineness could blind us to”

“To what?” River Lady cut in, her voice rippling with challenge. “To the possibility that not all humans carry betrayal in their hearts? That perhaps this one might choose differently?”

The council chamber filled with murmurs of both agreement and dissent. The younger spirits seemed more willing to consider hope, while the elders who remembered the original betrayal counseled caution.

“The entity plays on exactly these divisions,” Thorne reminded them. “Our hopes, our fears, our inability to trust fully or guard completely. It uses our own nature against us.”

“To what end?” The Elder Willow's question cut through the rising murmurs.

“What else?” Thorne's laugh held no humor. “To ensure history repeats itself. To twist another Ashworth toward betrayal. To complete what began centuries ago - the final sundering of our realms.”

The amphitheater erupted in alarmed discussions. Elemental lords flickered between forms rapidly, their agitation causing breezes to swirl through the grove. Dryads clutched their seedling-children closer, while earth spirits sent nervous tremors through the ground.

“Silence,” the Elder Willow commanded, and even the wind obeyed. “Continue, Guardian. Tell us what you saw in the dream-walking.”

“It's learning to use memories as weapons,” Thorne said. “Not just mine, but the forest's own memories of harmony and betrayal. It whispers possibilities, shows visions of revenge and power. And now, thanks to my foolish attempt at testing Silas, it has a direct connection to both our magics.”

“The dream created a bridge,” Rowan realized. “One that works both ways.”

“Which means we're all in danger,” Thorne concluded. “If this entity fully manifests, it won't stop at corrupting one human. It means to poison the very roots of both realms.”

The Elder Willow stepped into the center of the council circle, and the very air stilled. “There is more.” Her roots pulsed with ancient power as she spoke. “The prophecy stones have revealed new layers. What we face is not just a single choice between restoration and destruction. We face the breaking of a cycle that has bound both realms in shadow for generations.”

She wove magic into the air, creating images that made Thorne's heart stutter. Scene after scene of Ashworths through time, each approaching the forest with the potential for reconciliation. Each time, darkness intervened. Each failure added another layer of poison to the breach between worlds.

“The entity didn't just appear after Marcus's betrayal,” the Elder Willow said quietly. “It was already waiting, ensuring the breach remained open, feeding on each new failure.”

The revelation hit Thorne like a physical blow. How many potential healings had he inadvertently prevented? How often had his bitter guardianship played directly into the shadow's plans?

“This changes everything. Silas isn't just another Ashworth to test. He might be our last chance to break a cycle that's been poisoning both realms for centuries.” Rowan's practical voice cut through Thorne's spiral.

“If we can protect him long enough to understand the truth,” Oak Queen added.

“Which brings us to our choice.” The Elder Willow's gaze fixed on Thorne. “The dream-sharing must continue. It's our best weapon against the shadow's influence, our only chance to show Silas the full scope of what he faces.”

Thorne's form flickered violently. “Interesting, how quickly the council changes its mind. Not long ago, you warned meagainst this very thing. Called it dangerous, reckless, a risk to both realms.” His power lashed out, causing nearby seedlings to wither. “Yet now that we've seen the consequences, now that we know exactly how dangerous it is, suddenly it's our best weapon?”

“Guardian,” Rowan started, but Thorne cut him off.

“No. I want to hear the explanation for this. When it was my suggestion, it was too risky. When it nearly shattered my defenses, that was apparently acceptable collateral damage. But now that the great Elder Willow suggests it, we're all meant to nod sagely and accept the wisdom?”

The council chamber grew deathly quiet. Even the elemental lords, usually indifferent to emotional displays, seemed to hold their breath.

“You're right,” the Elder Willow said softly, and the simple admission stopped Thorne's building rage. “We were wrong to dismiss your initial instinct. You sensed what needed to be done, even if you didn't fully understand why.”

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