Page 19 of Eternal Thorns (The Feybound Chronicles #1)

18

TRUST'S FIRST BLOOM

T he first shared memory hit Silas like stepping into sunlight after too long in darkness. Unlike the dream-visions, which had felt like watching scenes play out from a distance, this willing sharing carried startling intimacy. Every emotion, every nuance of experience flowed through their connection with crystalline clarity.

“Oh,” Silas breathed, steadying himself against the chamber's wall.

Through this enhanced link, he felt the precise moment Thorne first recognized something special in Marcus. The guardian's initial wonder at finding a human who could truly grasp forest magic's nature radiated through the memory like dawn breaking.

“I wasn't prepared for this,” Silas admitted quietly. The sharing carried such raw authenticity that it left him feeling both honored and somehow vulnerable.

More memories flowed between them. Thorne teaching Marcus the proper way to approach ancient trees, delighting in his quick grasp of forest protocols. The precious moments of shared discovery as they explored the boundaries between human craft and forest magic. The growing affection that had made every breakthrough feel more significant because it was shared.

The key's warmth spread through Silas's chest as he realized he was broadcasting his own emotions just as clearly through their connection. His genuine empathy for Thorne's past pain, his fierce desire to understand rather than judge, his growing awareness of how perfectly their magical signatures harmonized together.

But there was something else bleeding through, something that had nothing to do with ancient bonds or magical resonance. A personal attraction to the forest guardian himself.

Their connection wavered as both registered this unexpected layer of response. Thorne's form flickered rapidly while Silas felt heat rise in his cheeks that had nothing to do with magical warmth.

“Right then,” Kai said from somewhere near the entrance, his voice carrying careful neutrality. “I'll just go make sure no shadow monsters are sneaking up on us.” His footsteps retreated, leaving them alone in the sacred space.

“Be careful. We don’t know what it is capable of.”

“You know me. I am always careful.” Kai said before doing what he needed to do.

The chamber's symbols continued their flowing dance around them, but their patterns seemed to carry new significance. What had looked like abstract designs now clearly told stories of connection between realms.

“I didn't mean-” Silas started, then stopped.

Because he had meant it, hadn't he? Every response, every emotion flowing through their connection carried absolute truth. The key and bracelet made deception impossible, even if he'd wanted to hide.

“This wasn't supposed to happen,” Thorne finally spoke. His tone carried no rejection, only wonder at finding himself so thoroughly understood.

More memories flowed between them, but now they carried new layers of meaning.

“Well,” Silas said finally, “I suppose this complicates things.”

Thorne's responding laugh carried equal parts humor and disbelief. “You think?”

They had much to discuss, much to understand about this unexpected development. But for now, in this protected space where truth flowed freely between them, they simply let themselves acknowledge what had begun to bloom.

Some connections, it seemed, transcended even centuries of careful separation.

Silas found himself unconsciously moving closer to Thorne. Their magical connection had grown so natural that physical proximity felt inevitable, like flowers turning toward sun. The forest guardian's form settled into more consistent solidity, his ethereal beauty becoming more pronounced as centuries of careful barriers lowered.

The sacred chamber's symbols danced around them, responding to their deepening connection. But Silas barely noticed the magical display, too caught by how starlight seemed to flow beneath Thorne's skin, how his eyes held entire forests in their depths.

“This is dangerous,” Thorne murmured, though he made no move to increase the distance between them.

A particularly powerful memory crashed through their bond. The first time Thorne had trusted Marcus enough to show him the twilight grove's heart. The intensity of remembered hope and subsequent betrayal made Silas stumble. Thorne's hands caught him instantly, steadying him with surprising gentleness.

Forest magic sparked where they touched, silver light dancing around their point of contact. Neither pulled away.

“How long has it been,” Silas asked softly, “since anyone saw you as more than just the forest's guardian?”

Thorne's form flickered rapidly, but his hands remained steady on Silas's arms.

The shadow entity seized upon their shared vulnerability, its darkness pressing harder against the chamber's barriers.

Such precious weakness, it whispered. Guardian and heir, both so desperate for connection they'll risk everything to find it.

But instead of pulling apart, they instinctively moved closer together. Silas reached out both physically and magically, offering support as Thorne battled the darkness he'd carried for so long. The guardian's surprise at this simple act of care felt like a wound in itself.

“No one's offered you comfort in centuries, have they?” Silas realized. “They've only seen you as someone to fear or seek favor from, never as someone who carries his own grief.”

Without conscious thought, Silas lifted his hand to Thorne's face, fingers tracing one of the luminous patterns that flowed across his skin. The gesture carried meaning beyond words. It was an acknowledgment of Thorne as an individual, not just a figure from history or magical entity.

The forest guardian went absolutely still at the touch. Forest magic surged around them. The key and bracelet pulsed brightly, their combined power creating a sphere of silver light that pushed back the shadow's influence.

“You're breaking every rule of proper protocol,” Thorne said roughly, but he leaned almost imperceptibly into the touch.

“Good.” Silas kept his hand where it was, thumb brushing another glowing mark. “Maybe some rules need breaking.”

Their magical bond deepened further, carrying not just shared memory but growing awareness of each other as individuals. Silas felt Thorne's careful control cracking, centuries of isolation crumbling in the face of simple human contact freely offered.

“This wasn't supposed to happen,” Thorne whispered, his form shifting between shadow and light. “You were meant to be another test, another reminder of why isolation is safer.”

“And instead?” Silas kept his voice gentle, understanding the weight of vulnerability in this moment.

“Instead you see too damn much.” But Thorne's hands had settled on Silas's waist, drawing him closer as if unable to help himself. “You don't just understand forest magic, you understand...”

“You,” Silas finished when Thorne faltered. “I understand you.”

The truth of that statement resonated through their connection. This wasn't just about magical compatibility or ancient destiny. It was about two individuals recognizing something in each other that transcended centuries of division.

When Silas traced another luminous pattern on Thorne's skin, the gesture carried promise beyond tradition.

The touch sparked something unexpected. Thorne's form shifted, not in the unstable flickering of before, but in a smooth transformation that took Silas's breath away. The guardian's carefully maintained appearance dissolved into something far more primal and beautiful.

He grew taller, more powerfully built, though his movements retained their otherworldly grace. His hair lengthened into streams of silver-white that moved like moonlight on water, defying normal physics. The sharp angles of his face seemed carved from living wood, yet somehow remained arrestingly beautiful.

“I didn't know,” Thorne breathed, clearly as surprised by this change as Silas. “This form hasn't manifested since-”

“Since before the breaking,” Silas finished, understanding flowing through their connection. This was Thorne as he had been originally - nature's power given perfect form.

His clothing had transformed too, woven from forest shadows and moonlight. Dark greens and silvers shifted like leaves in wind across the ethereal fabric. The ancient symbols carved into bands around his arms glowed with renewed purpose, and a crown of twisted branches materialized above his brow, marking his true authority as guardian.

But it was his eyes that caught and held Silas's attention. They shifted between deep forest green and molten gold, reflecting the pure magic now flowing freely between them. Patterns like tree bark rippled across his skin where Silas touched him, glowing marks appearing and fading like stars.

“You're beautiful,” Silas said simply, because it was true. There was no point pretending he wasn't completely awestruck by this revelation of Thorne's true nature.

The temperature around them fluctuated with Thorne's response to that honest admiration. When he spoke, his voice carried undertones of rustling leaves and distant thunder, yet remained intimately personal.

“I haven't been able to manifest this form since Marcus's betrayal. The pain of it locked away more than just trust, it seems.” He murmured, looking down at his transformed self with wonder.

Silas reached up to trace the crown of branches, marveling at how shadows seemed to cling naturally to Thorne's form even as light danced across his frost-shimmer skin. The guardian's inhuman fluidity made every small movement feel like wind through trees - natural and impossible at once.

Through their bond, Silas felt Thorne's mix of wonder and vulnerability at being seen so completely. This form wasn't just physically revealing, it displayed his true nature as a being of pure forest magic, neither fully spirit nor entirely corporeal.

The space between them seemed to crackle with possibility. Without thinking, Silas leaned forward, closing that final distance. Their first kiss tasted like moonlight and ancient magic, power spiraling around them in dangerous beauty. Thorne's lips were impossibly soft, carrying both winter's chill and summer's warmth. His hands settled on Silas's waist, ethereal yet solid, pulling him closer.

The twilight flowers around them burst into sudden bloom, responding to their combined magic. Silver-gold light danced through the air as centuries of careful distance crumbled. Through their connection, Silas felt Thorne's heart stutter - not with fear this time, but with a joy so fierce it bordered on pain.

When they finally broke apart, Thorne's eyes had shifted to pure forest green, power rippling beneath his skin where Silas touched him. The crown of branches caught starlight as he pressed their foreheads together, sharing breath that tasted of possibilities neither had dared imagine before this moment.

“You impossible creature,” Thorne whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “You brilliant, reckless, precious thing. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

His form flickered slightly, ancient power rippling beneath his skin. “I fought against even meeting you, you know. When the Elder Willow insisted on testing another Ashworth, I was furious. Centuries of carefully maintained isolation, and suddenly I had no choice but to face you.” His laugh held both wonder and disbelief. “I was determined to prove you were just like all the others. To find any excuse to send you away.”

“That worked out well for you,” Silas teased gently, tracing another luminous pattern on Thorne's skin. The simple touch sent sparks of silver light dancing between them.

“Didn't stand a chance.” Thorne's hands tightened on his waist, drawing him impossibly closer. “The moment you approached forest magic with such genuine reverence, such natural understanding. Not trying to control or command, just wanting to learn. Wanting to understand.” His voice roughened. “I was lost before I even admitted I was falling.”

When they finally turned their attention back to the journal's contents, their discussion kept weaving between serious analysis and increasingly personal observations.

“The flow patterns here,” Silas said, pointing to a particularly complex diagram, “they're not just about power distribution. They're about creating harmony between different types of magic, like orchestra sections playing together rather than competing.”

Thorne's carefully maintained aloofness cracked completely. “That's what I tried to explain to the council for decades. Forest magic isn't meant to be controlled, it's meant to be conducted.”

The way his eyes shifted from deep green to molten gold with excitement made Silas's breath catch. He found himself cataloging these small revelations about Thorne's true nature.

“Show me?” Silas asked, gesturing to a particularly fascinating section about magical resonance.

Thorne moved closer without hesitation, his new form radiating warmth that belied his usual frost-touched presence. “Watch,” he said, creating patterns of light between his hands. “When different magical currents align naturally rather than being forced”

The demonstration faltered as their fingers brushed. Silver sparks danced where they touched, their magical signatures harmonizing automatically. Through their connection, Silas felt Thorne's surprise at how natural this felt, how easily they fell into sync.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Kai's voice drifted from the doorway where he'd returned to check on them. “The sprites are taking bets on when you two will figure out you're basically magical soulmates.”

“Shut up, Kai,” Silas muttered, but he couldn't help smiling at Thorne's mix of embarrassment and pleased recognition flowing through their bond.

As midnight deepened toward dawn, they reluctantly acknowledged the need to leave the sacred chamber. But stepping back into the forest proved an unexpected extension of their connection rather than an end to it.

“This way,” Thorne said softly, leading Silas along hidden paths that seemed to form beneath their feet. His crown of twisted branches caught starlight as he moved, making him look like something from ancient legend come to life.

They found themselves stopping frequently to examine interesting phenomena, trading observations about the forest's health that felt more like shared discovery than formal instruction.

“The twilight flowers here are struggling,” Silas noted, kneeling beside a patch of luminous blooms. “Something's blocking their connection to the deeper magical currents.”

“Yes, I've been worried about that.” Thorne knelt beside him, their shoulders brushing. “The shadow entity's influence has been particularly strong in this area.”

Working together, they traced the magical blockage to its source and began carefully clearing it. Their powers merged naturally, Silas's insight complementing Thorne's experience. When the flowers began glowing more brightly, their shared satisfaction flowed warm through their connection.

“You know,” Kai commented, walking a respectful distance behind them, “when Agnes said you might heal the breach between realms, I don't think this is quite what she meant.”

“The best plans are often the unexpected ones,” Thorne said, his voice carrying that gentle tone that made Silas's heart skip. Then, more quietly, “I never thought I could trust like this again.”

Their hands brushed again as they examined a particularly interesting pattern of magical decay. Neither pulled away. Through their bond, Silas felt Thorne's lingering amazement at how easy this felt - sharing not just magic but perspective, working together without fear or suspicion.

“Guardian?” Briar's voice came from a nearby tree, her freckles pulsing with excited light. “The Elder Willow wants to know if she should start planning a handfasting ceremony or if you two are going to keep pretending this is just about magical theory?”

“Briar!” Thorne's form flickered slightly with embarrassment, but his hand remained steady where it touched Silas's.

“Oh! Right!” The sprite darted closer, her glow brightening with mischief. “We haven't done proper introductions. I'm Briar, the Guardian's apprentice and general annoyance. He's been teaching me forest magic for what, three centuries now?”

“Four,” Thorne corrected automatically, then caught himself at her knowing grin.

“Four centuries,” Briar continued, circling them both, “and I have never, not once, seen him like this. Usually he's all 'maintain proper distance' and 'formal protocols must be observed' and 'Briar, stop turning the mushroom circles into dance floors.'”

Her freckles strobed faster as she studied them. “But look at him now! Actually touching someone voluntarily! Smiling! I didn't even know his face could do that anymore.”

“That's enough,” Thorne growled, but there was no real heat in it. Through their connection, Silas felt the guardian's mix of embarrassment and reluctant amusement.

“And his true form!” Briar spun in excited circles. “Do you know how long I've been trying to get him to stop hiding behind all that frost and shadow? Centuries of 'it's more appropriate for a guardian to maintain dignified distance' and you manage it in one night with some hand-holding and meaningful looks.”

“I do not hold hands,” Thorne protested, despite clear evidence to the contrary.

“Sure, and those aren't heart-shapes appearing in your magical patterns right now.” Briar's glow took on a decidedly smug tinge. “Face it, Guardian, you're absolutely smitten. And it's about time.”

The sprite darted over to Silas, her expression turning suddenly serious. “You better be worth all this, by the way. He's been miserable for centuries and if you hurt him, I know exactly which mushrooms cause the most embarrassing rashes.”

“Briar,” Thorne's voice carried warning, but Silas felt the surge of affection he held for his apprentice.

“Just saying what everyone's thinking,” she chirped, then spun back toward the trees. “I'll let the Elder Willow know the handfasting is definitely on. Maybe in the twilight grove? The flowers there are already responding to your magical googly-eyes at each other.”

She vanished in a flash of light, leaving Thorne looking simultaneously mortified and fond. “I apologize for her... everything,” he said. “Four centuries of training and she still has the subtlety of a charging deer.”

“I like her,” Silas said, squeezing Thorne's hand. “She clearly cares about you. And she's not wrong though,” Silas added quietly. “About this being more than just magical theory.”

Thorne's true form shimmered in response, his crown of branches catching starlight. “No,” he agreed softly. “She's not wrong about that at all.”