Page 71 of Eternal Thorns

“Perhaps this is what the prophecy meant. Not just choosing between realms, but choosing love despite knowing its cost.” The Elder Willow said.

The council continued debating containment strategies, but Thorne found himself increasingly distracted by Silas's steady presence beside him. Even facing such horror, Silas’ natural grace with forest magic showed in every small gesture. The key around his neck pulsed in rhythm with Thorne's own power, creating resonances that made nearby plants grow despite the surrounding corruption.

“We're fated to fail,” Rowan muttered, watching darkness spread through another section of the grove.

“Not necessarily.” Silas's voice cut through the council's worried murmurs.

Silas pressed on. “Think of it like a knife rather than a wild force. If we can channel our connection precisely enough, use our bond as a focused weapon instead of letting it spill everywhere”

“The risk would be astronomical,” Stone Lord rumbled. “One misstep could accelerate the corruption beyond our ability to contain it.”

“There's something else you need to understand.” The Elder Willow's voice cut through chaos like a blade. “We've all misinterpreted the original prophecy. The shadow entity isn't just feeding on your bond. It was born from a bond that was corrupted.”

Thorne's form flickered dangerously. “What?”

“The betrayal between you and Marcus wasn't simply about power or control.” Her roots shifted beneath her as she chose her next words carefully. “It was about love denied. Love twisted into something dark when neither of you could face what was growing between you.”

Centuries of carefully buried feelings crashed through his defenses. He'd never admitted, even to himself, how much he had cared for Marcus. How that unacknowledged love had soured into poison when they both retreated behind safer emotions like ambition and suspicion.

He felt Silas's heart break for his centuries of buried pain. His pure empathy, completely free of judgment or jealousy, made their magic flare dangerously bright.

“All this time,” Thorne said roughly, his form shifting between shadow and substance. “I thought the betrayal was about power. About him choosing control over cooperation.”

“That was part of it,” the Elder Willow agreed. “But not the heart of it. You both felt something deeper growing between you. Something that terrified you both so much you let fear corrupt it into darkness.”

Memories crashed through Thorne's mind. Moments with Marcus that he'd buried beneath bitterness. The way his heart had leapt whenever Marcus had mastered a new spell. How their magic had harmonized so perfectly before fear poisoned everything. The nights spent teaching under starlight, both pretending not to feel the growing connection between them.

“I couldn't face it,” Thorne admitted, his voice cracking. “Neither of us could. So we hid behind other motivations. Let ambition and suspicion cover what we really felt. And that denied love, that corrupted connection-”

“Became the very poison now threatening both realms,” the Elder Willow finished gently.

“So the prophecy wasn't just about healing the breach between realms,” Rowan said. “It was about healing the original wound. About facing love honestly instead of letting fear twist it.”

“Which is exactly why channeling our connection might work,” Silas added. “We're not hiding from what we feel. Not letting fear or duty dictate our choices.”

“It's also why the entity attacks hardest when we're most honest with each other,” Thorne realized, squeezing Silas's hand. “A real bond threatens its very existence. The shadow was born from denied feeling, from connection corrupted by fear. Genuine emotion burns it like sunlight.”

“We should prepare the eastern borders,”Oak Queen suggested as the council drew to a close.

“I'll help with the wards,” Silas said, but Thorne felt him sway slightly from the demonstration's drain.

“No.” Thorne's voice carried centuries of authority. “You need rest.”

“I'm not leaving you alone.” Silas's gray eyes flashed with familiar stubbornness.

“This isn't up for discussion?—”

“Actually, it is.” Silas stepped closer, voice low but firm. “We face this together or not at all. Isn't that what we just proved?”

The council members exchanged knowing looks as they filed out, leaving the grove in twilight silence. Thorne wanted to argue further, but the fierce determination in Silas's face stopped him. Through their bond flowed such pure devotion it made his ancient heart ache.

“Fine,” he conceded. “But stay close.”

“Always,” Silas promised, taking his hand.

The shadow entity struck before they could move, manifesting with such force it made Thorne's ancient power recoil. Not one form but many burst from the darkness, each wearing faces designed to shatter his carefully rebuilt heart.

Marcus stepped from the shadows first, young and earnest as he'd been before betrayal poisoned everything. “Remember how it felt?” the construct asked in Thorne's own voice. “Teaching me forest magic, watching wonder bloom in my eyes? You could have that again.”

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