Page 46 of Eternal Thorns

The question forced Thorne to confront an uncomfortable truth - either this was an act of unprecedented sophistication, or the forest's patient waiting was finally over.

Silas’ magical sensitivity had grown strong enough that his emotional state broadcast clearly to any spirit paying attention. Wonder rolled off him in waves as he traced the carved symbols, followed by deep respect for their meaning. The pure sincerity of his reactions triggered memories Thorne had thought safely buried.

“Each mark tells a story,” he heard himself explaining to Marcus. “Not just of power, but of partnership. Of trust freely given and honored.”

Marcus's eager face turned up to his, gray eyes bright with curiosity. “Show me how to read them properly?”

The memory twisted something in Thorne's chest. Because where Marcus's enthusiasm had always carried that subtle undertone of ambition, that hunger to possess rather than understand, Silas approached each discovery differently. His wonder came paired with scholarly humility, every revelation met with a healer's instinct to comprehend rather than control.

Twilight painted the grove in shades of purple and silver, highlighting how thoroughly Silas had become entangled with the forest's magic. Each breath he took synchronized with the oak's ancient rhythms. Every gesture harmonized with the natural flow of power through the sacred space.

Such beautiful symmetry,the shadow entity whispered, its presence seeping through the gathering dark.Guardian and heir, both afraid to trust what they recognize in each other.

Thorne growled at the voice, but the shadow's laughter only grew.

We are what your bitterness made us,it reminded him.Every choice to isolate, every wall built against connection, gave us strength. And nowIts presence coiled with anticipation.Now you watch another Ashworth awaken old possibilities, and your heart betrays you with hope.

“You can't hide forever,” Rowan said softly. “The forest itself responds to him as if remembering its true nature. How long before you must do the same?”

The ancient oak's branches shifted again, creating patterns of shadow and light that emphasized its carved symbols. Silas studied them with unchanged reverence, each discovery met with genuine appreciation rather than calculation.

“He's going to find the journal,” Thorne said, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. “All those memories, all those truths I tried to bury.”

“Yes.” The Elder Willow's presence brushed against his consciousness. “The question is, are you ready for him tounderstand not just what was lost, but how it was lost? To see past the bitter guardian to what you once were?”

Such precious hesitation,it whispered, curling through Thorne's fluctuating form.The mighty Guardian, afraid of his own recorded truths.

The mockery struck home because it was accurate. The second journal contained more than mere historical accounts. Within its pages lay Thorne's personal recordings of trust given and ultimately betrayed - every hope, every moment of connection, every sign he should have recognized but chose to ignore.

“He'll see everything,” Thorne said quietly, watching Silas study the oak's entrance. “Not just what happened, but how it felt.”

“Yes.” The Elder Willow's voice carried ancient certainty. “That's rather the point, isn't it?”

Thorne felt Silas's steady resolve. Silas had already sensed the journal's presence, his enhanced awareness telling him exactly what waited within the tree. Yet he approached with neither Marcus's entitled confidence nor a conqueror's determination.

Let him read,the shadow taunted.Let him see how thoroughly trust can shatter. We'll feast on both your pain.

But something in the entity's eagerness gave Thorne pause. It wanted him to prevent this discovery, to choose fear over possibility. Which meant.

“It's afraid,” he realized, his form stabilizing with sudden clarity. “Not of Silas reading the journal, but of how he might understand it.”

Rowan's moss armor clinked as he shifted. “The entity feeds on misunderstanding, on trust corrupted by fear. But if someone were to read those memories with true empathy”

“They might see past the betrayal to what was worth betraying.” The Elder Willow's roots pulsed with approval.

Silas raised the key, its silver light harmonizing with the bracelet's glow. Together they created patterns that made the oak's entrance shimmer with awakening magic.

Remaining hidden meant letting fear win again, choosing bitter safety over the very possibility of healing he claimed to be testing for. Yet revealing himself meant risking everything.

The shadow entity surged forward, desperate to influence this crucial moment.

Remember how trust feels when it breaks,it hissed.Remember what hope costs when it shatters.

This Ashworth had already proved different in every way that mattered. His every action demonstrated not worthiness to be trusted, but worthiness to understand trust's true nature.

“Well,” Rowan said quietly, “what's it going to be?”

Instead of answering, Thorne took action. He stepped partially out of the shadows, allowing his form to become visible while maintaining enough insubstantiality to retreat if needed. The move caught Silas's attention immediately.

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