Page 38 of Favored By the Stars

"Not destroyed," Van said, his voice suddenly serious. "Hidden. Protected. Waiting."

A warm breeze stirred the surrounding leaves, carrying the scent of rain and something else, something ancient and green and alive. My senses, heightened since the temple, detected magic in that breeze, wild and untamed.

"The Gardens are a decent walk from here," Van continued. "If we leave now, we'll arrive before either court can mobilize their forces."

"And you'll answer our questions along the way?" I asked, already knowing I would go regardless of his answer. The pull I felt toward whatever lay ahead was too strong to ignore.

"All that I can," he promised, though something in his tone suggested limits to what he considered possible to share.

Wyn moved to stand beside me. "I want to go," she whispered. "Think of what we might learn in a place forgotten by both courts."

I nodded, though uncertainty gnawed at me. The visions from the temple still swirled in my mind, fractured images of a woman standing between warring factions, her arms outstretched as magic tore through her. Was that my fate, too?

"We should go," I said finally, meeting Thorn's concerned gaze. "If there's something that can help me control... whatever this is becoming," I touched my Mark, which pulsed beneath my fingers with alternating waves of lunar chill and solar heat, "then I need to find it."

Thorn's jaw clenched, but he nodded. "I don't trust him," he murmured, his eyes never leaving Van, "but I trust you."

Those simple words sent a flutter through my chest that had nothing to do with my mark.

"How touching," Van commented, his keen hearing having caught our exchange. "Now, shall we depart before this hillside becomes a battleground?"

We set off through the moonlit forest, Van leading with confident steps that never faltered despite the darkness. Thorn stayed close beside me, his hand occasionally brushing mine in a way that seemed both deliberate and unconscious. Wyn followed, her eyes wide as she took in every detail of the forest, while Volker brought up the rear, his weathered face set in contemplative lines.

"You mentioned the Crescent Diadem," I said to Van as we walked. "What exactly does it do?"

"Stories vary," he replied, ducking beneath a low-hanging branch. "Some say it allows the wearer to channel opposing magics without being destroyed by their conflict. Others claim it reveals hidden truths, paths unseen."

"And which is it?" Wyn asked.

Van's smile flashed in the darkness. "Perhaps both. Perhaps neither. Magic items from that era rarely conform to simple explanations."

"Helpful as always," Thorn muttered.

The forest grew denser as we walked, the trees more ancient. Their bark spiraled in patterns that caught the eye and held it, almost hypnotically. Moss glowed with faint bioluminescence, casting everything in an eerie blue-green light.

I paused, entranced by a cluster of luminous fungi that pulsed in rhythm like a heartbeat. Their caps shimmered with translucent patterns that seemed to form and dissolve, almost like writing in a language I couldn't quite grasp.

"Don't touch those," Van warned without turning. "Dreamer's Caps. One brush of your skin and visions will engulf you for days," Van warned, without turning.

The forest had transformed around us, becoming something wilder and more ancient with each step. Trees twisted into impossible shapes, their branches forming archways and spiraling staircases that led nowhere. Flowers bloomed in the darkness, their petals glowing with inner light, blues and purples and silvers that cast dancing shadows across our path.

A stream appeared beside our trail, its water flowing uphill in defiance of natural law. Tiny motes of light drifted above it, diving and swirling like a playful fish in an invisible current.

"What are those?" I asked, reaching toward one that drifted close.

"Soul-sparks," Wyn answered before Van could, her voice hushed with wonder. "I've read about them, but never thought I'd see one. They're said to be fragments of fae who lived the purest of lives, the ones most devoted to the Moon Goddess and the Sun God."

The spark danced around my outstretched fingers, leaving trails of silvery-gold light that lingered in the air before slowly fading. It felt warm and cool simultaneously against my skin, reminding me uncomfortably of the conflicting sensations in my Mark.

"We're getting close," Van announced, his voice carrying a note of reverence. "The Gardens announce themselves through their inhabitants first."

Thorn had been quiet for the past hour, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings, his body tense and ready. Now he stopped abruptly, causing Volker to nearly collide with him.

"Enough of this," he said, his voice cutting through the magical atmosphere like a blade. "Before we go any further, I want answers, bard."

Van turned, his expression neutral. "You've never been one for patience, have you, Thorn?"

"How do these artifacts, the Crescent Diadem and others, differ from our current objectives, the ones given to us by the goddess herself?" Thorn's hand rested on his sword hilt, his stance wide and immovable. "She spoke of the Starforged Mirror, the Eclipsed Crown, and the Veilshard Pendant. Those are what we seek, what we need to restore balance. What does this Diadem have to do with anything?"

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