Page 16

CHAPTER 16

BJORN

T he Whispering Woods lived up to its name.

As we made our way through the ancient trees, their leaves rustled with soft murmurs that almost sounded like words.

Smoke padded silently at my side, occasionally sniffing the air with wary interest, while Merry rode in Rosalyn’s basket, his little golden horn peeking out as he surveyed our surroundings.

I walked a few paces behind Rosalyn and Kellen, watching as sunlight filtered through the canopy above, creating dancing patterns on Rosalyn’s wings and hair.

She was so easy with people, and her nature was so kind.

Perhaps she hadn’t followed her mother’s path to becoming an ambassador of her culture, but I saw how her presence softened all around her.

Even the stoic dryad smiled and eased in her presence.

Every time she laughed at something Kellen said, something twisted painfully in my chest.

I should be the one making her laugh, not maintaining this careful distance.

The truth of my situation was inescapable.

Now that Winifred had learned my secret, everything was ruined.

That brief dream, that I was simply a man loved by a woman, was over as quickly as it had come to life.

Once more, I was Prince Bjorn of Frostfjord, heir to duty and responsibility.

And she was Rosalyn Hartwood of Moonshine Hollow, whose life and business were firmly rooted here in the Summerlands.

To let myself love her—or to let her love me—would only lead to heartbreak for both of us.

And yet, I couldn’t look away from her.

“We’re getting close,” Kellen said.

“I can feel the forest’s energy shifting.”

Rosalyn nodded, her wings fluttering slightly.

“Something here feels…ancient.”

She wasn’t wrong.

The deeper we ventured into the woods, the more I felt a strange resonance with the land.

It reminded me of the sacred groves back home.

My runes tingled beneath my skin, responding to the magic in the air.

“Do you feel that?” I asked without thinking.

Rosalyn glanced back at me, a questioning look in her eyes.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“It’s like the air is…singing.”

Our eyes held for a moment too long before I forced myself to look away.

“It feels similar to old places in Frostfjord,” I said, fighting to keep my voice neutral.

“Your homeland must be beautiful,” Rosalyn said, an edge of something—Hurt?

Curiosity?

—in her voice.

“It is a stark beauty.”

“I have visited Dryad Aelderin on Brunndale before. It is a rugged place. As for me, I prefer places that don’t freeze your bones,” Kellen interjected with a chuckle, breaking the tension.

“While my connection is closest with Silver Vale, the forest here still whispers. Its voice is ancient and quiet, but I believe we’ve found what we’re looking for.”

The trees opened into a small clearing, revealing the Thread Stone.

Unlike the standing stone the fairies had shown us, this was a perfect circle of pale gray stone about waist-high, with an opening in the center large enough to pass an arm through.

Intricate carvings spiraled across its surface, some resembling runes that were not unlike those that marked my skin.

Moss and violets grew at its base.

“Wow, it’s beautiful,” Rosalyn whispered.

I found myself nodding in agreement.

“And powerful.”

Kellen approached it cautiously.

“No wonder the fairies couldn’t fix this themselves. This kind of old magic requires something different to channel it.” He glanced back at us.

“Sometimes they say things are meant to be. What are the chances we’d have a Rune elf and a pixie in Moonshine Hollow at the same time? Your magic creates a duality. This should work.”

Setting down his pack, Kellen began clearing the area around the stone of debris and fallen leaves.

Rosalyn helped, placing Merry’s basket in a safe spot before joining the dryad.

I hesitated a moment, then pulled out the map of the Ley lines.

“So, we must pull the frayed lines back and rethread them through the stone. Once we do, they should continue on to the standing stone where Rosalyn and I met the fairies, and from then on, be in alignment.”

“Can this stone really fix all that?” Rosalyn asked, eyeing the Thread Stone skeptically.

“The calibration wands should help us direct the energy where it needs to go,” I replied.

Kellen gave the stone a pensive look.

“It’s going to take considerable power. Are you both prepared for that?”

Rosalyn and I exchanged glances.

“What do you mean by considerable?” she asked, a worried expression on her face.

“Based on what I understand from Elder Thornberry’s book, you’ll need to channel your magic through the stone, with Bjorn acting as the northern pole on one side and you acting on the southern pole on the other. Bjorn will refocus the magic into a straight line, but you must use your magnetism to pull it through,” Kellen explained.

“It will be like redirecting a river with your bare hands. I will do what I can to ground the energy with earth magic, to steady it, but you should expect… It will be a lot.”

Rosalyn paused, then looked at me.

“If we work together, Bjorn and I can handle it.”

My heart skipped a beat at her words, which were clearly about more than the Ley lines.

I gave her a soft smile, chiding myself for my distance toward her and any hurt it may have caused her.

“Good. Let’s prepare,” Kellen said.

We spent the next hour getting ready.

Kellen gathered specific plants and herbs to help stabilize the ritual, arranging them in a circular pattern around the Thread Stone.

I examined the stone more closely, studying its runes.

Many were familiar, symbols for balance, harmony, and connection, but others were unlike any I’d encountered.

If I cast enchantments similar to those on the stone, it may help me pull the Ley lines back in place to thread them through to Rosalyn.

Rosalyn, meanwhile, prepared the calibration wands and the vial of moonlight essence.

She handled the magical tools with surprising deftness for someone who claimed to have limited magical abilities.

Perhaps she was underestimating her skills.

Finally, Kellen nodded, satisfied with his work.

“I think I’m ready. You two?”

Rosalyn and I both nodded.

“Bjorn, you should stand there.” He pointed to one side of the Thread Stone.

“And, Rosalyn, you there.” He indicated the opposite side.

“I’ll ground the magic as best I can and maintain a protection barrier around us. This kind of magic can have…unpredictable effects.”

We took our positions.

Rosalyn looked at me across the stone circle, her blue eyes reflecting the now-dying sunlight.

“Ready?” she asked softly.

“Ready.”

Kellen handed us each a calibration wand.

“Visualize the lines straightening and flowing properly.”

Rosalyn uncorked the vial of moonlight essence and carefully poured it over the Thread Stone.

The liquid seemed to sink into the stone, causing the carved runes to glow with a soft silver light.

I nodded to her and began casting myself, drawing enchantments for the runes in the air.

As I did so, the air around us began to feel charged.

The hair on my arms rose, and I heard the crackle of magic.

“It’s reacting already, Bjorn,” Kellen said excitedly.

“The runic enchantments will help strengthen my pull,” I replied.

“Bjorn,” Kellen said, “don’t forget. You fix things. That’s what you do. You can do this. Rosalyn?”

“I’m ready,” she said, raising her wand.

“Welcome the energy to the south,” Kellen told her.

“Call it forth with all your pixie tenderness and warmth. Let it be drawn to you.”

Rosalyn nodded.

We began by tuning the wands to the stone.

Rosalyn and I stood on either side of the Thread Stone.

I looked at Rosalyn.

“On three?”

She nodded.

“One. Two…”

On three, we touched our wands to the Thread Stone.

The effect was immediate and startling.

A surge of magic rushed through me, so powerful it nearly took my breath away.

My runes sparked to life beneath my shirt, glowing bright enough that their blue light was visible even through the fabric.

Across from me, Rosalyn gasped, her wings fluttering fast to help her keep her balance, shedding a cascade of glittering dust that seemed to be drawn toward the stone.

Her entire body took on a soft pink glow, just as when we’d made love.

The memory of that night sent another pulse of magic through me, and the Thread Stone responded, its glow intensifying.

“Focus,” Kellen reminded us.

“Visualize the Ley lines straightening. Bjorn, pull the frayed energy toward you. Rosalyn, be ready to thread the magic!”

I closed my eyes, picturing the twisted magical currents we’d seen on the map.

In my mind, I reached for them, using my natural talent for fixing things to identify precisely where they had kinked and distorted.

I could feel Rosalyn’s magic on the other side of the stone, warm and vibrant like summer sunshine, while mine was calm and steady like a mountain stream.

I worked hard, my heart pounding and my body sweating as I strained to pull the lines together.

My footing fumbled as the stray stands sought to tear away from me and the wand.

“Steady,” Kellen called.

“Steady.”

I heard the dryad speaking his people’s tongue, and suddenly, my connection to the earth felt firmer, more rooted.

“I almost have it,” I said, pulling the strands back into one massive, glowing blue-and-gold line of power, which sparked and bucked, wanting to rip away from me.

But the wand kept it in line.

I took slow, deliberate steps as I tried to redirect the nearly combined lines toward the thread stone.

The magic was chaos, wanting to pull away.

I found myself straining, tugging at the power.

I recited the runic enchantments over and over again.

On the other side of the stone, Rosalyn began to speak her own spells.

I didn’t know what charms they were, but they were light and airy, appearing like glimmering pink butterflies, the scent of cookies, scones, and baked bread drifting faintly toward me.

With my muscles straining, I pulled the magic into line and directed it through the Thread Stone.

“Rosalyn!” I called out to her in a warning.

The Ley lines slipped through the stone.

When they did so, they intertwined once more.

The air around us shimmered with magical energy.

“It’s working!” Rosalyn exclaimed, holding her wand before her, pulling the magic through.

But even as she spoke, the magic began to surge unpredictably.

The beam of light splintered into a dozen smaller beams that shot off in different directions.

Nearby plants suddenly sprouted flowers that bloomed and wilted in seconds.

The ground beneath our feet trembled.

“Hold steady, Rosalyn!” Kellen called, extending his arms.

“Bjorn, steady the magic. Keep it in line. Hold onto it for Rosalyn.” Kellen recited enchantments loudly, green energy flowing from his hands, grounding the wild energy that bucked and kicked, yearning to break free.

“Both of you hold on. The Ley lines are resisting!”

Kellen was right.

I could feel a stubborn resistance as if the magic had grown accustomed to its disrupted state and was fighting our attempts to change it.

Sweat beaded on my brow as I channeled more power into the Thread Stone.

“Rosalyn,” I called to her, “we need more! You must pull harder.”

She nodded, her face a mask of concentration.

Her wings beat rapidly, generating more glittering dust that seemed to amplify the magic.

The pink glow around her brightened, and I felt a surge in her magical output.

But the Ley lines resisted.

I could see the strain on Rosalyn’s face.

I needed more magic.

I had to hold the line to make it safer for Rosalyn.

Making up my mind, I drew upon the deep wells of magic I never accessed—the power that came with my royal blood.

All royal family members carried special magic, but I never used mine.

It was not me .

I was not that .

But now…

to protect her, I dipped into that magic.

It responded at once.

My runes blazed brighter than ever, no longer just visible through my shirt but burning through the fabric itself, revealing the intricate patterns that marked me as a prince of the royal house of Frostfjord.

Rosalyn fluttered faster now and began to sing, her voice soft and welcoming.

I didn’t understand her words—they were pixie—but I guessed it to be one of her people’s ancient songs.

The aura around her softened, the forest floor blazing with flowers of every color.

The air shimmered gold.

Magical butterflies fluttered around her.

It was a scene of beauty.

Rosalyn’s hair blazed bright red, the strands pulsing like living rubies.

It was…

mesmerizing.

The resistance suddenly gave way, like a knot finally coming untied.

The beam of light from the Thread Stone stabilized, taking on a prismatic quality.

Through the hole in the center of the stone, I could see the Ley line finally weaving itself back together without resistance.

“The Ley line!” Kellen exclaimed.

“It’s realigning!”

A huge smile crossed Rosalyn’s face.

Around us, chaos continued to reign as the magical discharge created all manner of strange effects.

Trees temporarily turned crystalline and chimed like bells in the breeze.

Flowers sprouted from Smoke’s fur, making him sneeze sparks.

Merry’s horn shot tiny rainbows in all directions.

Working together, we gently pulled the Ley line back into its proper paths.

Just as the ritual neared its end, a voice called from the edge of the clearing.

“What a magnificent sight!”

I saw Elder Thornberry from the corner of my eye, but I paid him no mind.

My eyes were on Rosalyn, ensuring I held the last Ley line in check as it flowed toward her.

Nothing mattered more than making sure she was safe.

While Rosalyn’s magic was beautiful, it was also strong.

With great skill, she coaxed the last of the magic through, tenderly helping it realign.

The magic between us straightened and began to flow like a calm river.

A sound like a bell tolled, and the energy slowly sank back into the earth.

I could see its glow traveling toward the standing stone where we had met the fairies.

The magic had been realigned.

“You can let go,” Kellen called to us.

“The work is done.”

Breathing deeply, Rosalyn released the power.

Once I was sure she was safe, I also moved my wand away.

The runes on my body, however, still shimmered bright blue.

When Elder Thornberry looked at me, he gasped.

“Bjorn,” he said.

“Those runes! Those are the royal runes of Frostfjord! Why, my own father made me learn them as a child. Those are the runes of the royal house.”

The words hung in the air.

Across from me, I saw Rosalyn’s eyes widen, her gaze fixed on runes now clearly visible on my arms and chest.

Elder Thornberry’s expression went from one of confusion to a wide grin.

“By golly, I knew you were too polite to simply be a Master of Horse. King Ramr and Queen Maren have a son named Bjorn. It’s you, isn’t it, Your Highness? You are Prince Bjorn?”

My gaze went to Rosalyn.

The instant she looked at me, she read the guilt on my face.

“Prince?” she whispered, the confusion in her voice cutting deeper than any blade.

“I…”

“Come, come,” the elder said with a smile.

“My word, it was very kind of your father to send one of his children to look after us! A royal prince in Moonshine Hollow? Well, isn’t that something? And your royal magic seems to have helped us from a royal mess! Thank you, Prince Bjorn.”

“ Prince Bjorn,” Rosalyn whispered.

I felt like my heart had dropped from my chest.

And there it was…

Prince Bjorn.

Before I could speak, the troupe of wild fairies appeared, their tiny forms darting through the clearing in patterns of evident joy.

At the front of them glided a fairy man with a small, pointed cap with a red feather.

“Most wondrously done, O Charmed One, and thee, our cherished pixie friend,” the fairy proclaimed, bowing low.

“The veins of magic now flow true once more. From Her Radiance, our queen, I bring thee deepest gratitude.”

“Charmed One?” Kellen repeated, looking at me with new understanding.

“Of course. They recognize your royal magic.”

“I…am honored to help,” I told the fairy.

“We all worked together.”

Elder Thornberry stepped forward, his earlier shock replaced with something like awe.

“Gracious fairy friends, I send the greatest of respect and honor to your queen, and I thank you on behalf of all the citizens of Moonshine Hollow for your help.”

“Of course, Elder Thornberry.” The fairy then turned to Kellen.

“Guardian,” he said, giving the dryad a bow.

“Good Neighbor,” the dryad replied, bowing in kind.

And with that, the fairies departed.

Elder Thornberry smiled widely at me.

“Prince Bjorn of Frostfjord in our humble hollow! What an honor. Prince, had I known your true identity?—”

“Please,” I said, finding my voice at last.

“That’s not… I didn’t come here as a prince. I just came to help the unicorns.”

But it was too late.

The damage was done.

“I think I need to rest,” Rosalyn said suddenly, her voice unnaturally even.

“That took more out of me than I expected,” she said with a forced laugh, then turned to Kellen.

“Thank you for your guidance. And to you, Elder Thornberry, for your wisdom.” She nodded politely to each of them.

Finally, she looked at me.

Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but her chin was held high.

“Goodbye, Your Highness,” she said, the formality a wall between us.

Before I could respond, she gathered Merry in his basket and took to the air, her wings carrying her swiftly away from the clearing.

“Oh my,” Elder Thornberry said, looking between me and Rosalyn’s retreating form.

“Did I say something?”

Kellen placed a hand on the elder’s shoulder.

“Perhaps we should give Bjorn a moment,” he suggested tactfully.

Alone in the clearing save for Smoke, I sank to my knees beside the Thread Stone.

The runes on my skin still glowed faintly, though the intensity had faded with the ritual’s completion.

One fairy that had dawdled at the back of the group, studying a flower the Ley line magic had caused to bloom, paused and looked back at me.

Her brow furrowing, she joined me, hovering in front of me.

“Thou hast done most admirably, Charmed Prince,” she said, studying me with eyes ancient as starlight.

“And yet, methinks thy heart is now as tangled as the Ley lines once were.”

“Can you fix it?” I asked, only half in jest.

She shook her tiny head.

“Some magicks lie beyond even our ken. The heart’s path must be walked by its bearer alone. Yet, as with the Ley lines, ’tis courage that begins the mending,” she said, laying a delicate hand on my shoulder.

“Our deepest gratitude is thine. The balance is restored. Now go and restore thine own world.”

She gave me a crooked smile and then disappeared, leaving me with my thoughts and regrets.

Smoke nudged my hand with his nose, whining softly.

“I know, boy,” I said, scratching behind his ears.

“I’ve made a mess of things.” I looked in the direction Rosalyn had flown.

“But maybe it’s better this way. A clean break.”

Yet even as I said the words, I knew they weren’t true.

Nothing about it felt right.

The Ley lines might’ve been fixed, but the connection that mattered most to me was more broken than ever.

And I had no one to blame but myself.