Page 17

17

RETURN TO THE PALACE

T horne felt the change before they even reached the first outpost. The forest's pulse grew fainter with each step, like a heartbeat fading under layers of stone. Where wild magic once sang in his blood, now only echoes remained. He flexed his fingers, watching silver sparks sputter and die against his skin.

“Getting homesick already?” Kai's voice carried more observation than jest.

“The land here...” Thorne searched for words. “It remembers what it was. But humans have buried those memories under cobblestone and iron.”

Briar flitted between branches overhead, their usually bright form dimmed in the tamed landscape. “Feels wrong,” they chittered. “Like wearing shoes made of ice.”

Silas shifted closer, his warmth a steady anchor against Thorne's side. Their bond pulsed with unspoken understanding. No words needed for this shared awareness of what they approached: his world, his rules, his father.

A patrol emerged from the morning mist, armor gleaming with royal insignia. The captain's eyes widened at the sight of their group, recognition and protocol warring across his features.

“Lord Ashworth,” he saluted crisply. “We've been searching for you. The capital has... concerns about recent events.”

Thorne watched Silas's posture change. Shoulders straightened, chin lifted, every movement radiating the noble bearing he'd shed in the forest. It was like watching water freeze into ice.

“Captain Reynolds,” Silas acknowledged. “We appreciate the escort but we're here on urgent business.”

The captain's gaze lingered briefly on Nathaniel, then shifted to Thorne. Something like fear flickered in his eyes before he composed himself again. “Of course, my lord. We’ll send word ahead to ensure preparations are made.”

As the soldiers formed ranks around them, Thorne caught fragments of whispered conversations. Words like guardian , battle , and darkness drifted on the wind. News had traveled fast, warped and magnified with each retelling.

“They're afraid of you,” Kai murmured when they resumed walking.

“They should be afraid of what's coming,” Thorne replied. “Fear of me is misplaced energy.”

The road widened, forest giving way to farmland. Each mile stripped another layer of connection until Thorne felt almost naked, exposed. Only his link to Silas remained constant, a lifeline of shared power thrumming between them.

Nathaniel sat upright in his carriage, composed and watchful. As they passed through a small market town, villagers gathered to stare. Whispers followed their procession.

“It's really him,” someone murmured. “The exiled lord, returned after all these years.”

“Come to save us, has he?” another voice asked skeptically.

Nathaniel straightened under their scrutiny, decades of exile giving way to noble bearing. “The Ashworths stand united against the darkness,” he declared, voice carrying despite his physical frailty.

The words rippled through the crowd. Some nodded approval, others remained wary.

“Bold move,” Kai commented quietly. “Making such public declarations.”

“Necessary ones,” Nathaniel replied. “Fear breeds in silence. Truth requires proclamation.”

A raven landed on his shoulder, feathers rustling with urgent whispers. A fox emerged from nearby brush, eyes glowing with Elder Willow's fading light.

The message was clear. Sebastian's influence poisoned the Eldergrove's edges, shadow tendrils reaching deeper each hour. The council struggled to maintain basic protections. Elder Willow herself flickered like a candle in strong wind.

“Bad news?” Silas asked quietly, noting Thorne's darkening expression.

“The forest dies while I play human politics,” Thorne growled. “Elder Willow weakens. The council needs guidance I cannot give from here.”

Understanding dawned in Silas's eyes, followed quickly by resignation. “You have to go back.”

“Not yet,” Thorne insisted. “I won't leave you to face your father alone.”

“I'm not alone,” Silas gestured to their companions. “Kai, Nathaniel, Diana when we arrive. You're needed elsewhere.”

Briar landed on Thorne's other shoulder, unusually subdued. “The trees cry,” they whispered. “Elder Willow's light dims. Without her...”

They didn't need to finish. Without Elder Willow, the forest's ancient defenses would crumble. Sebastian would have free reign to corrupt everything Thorne had sworn to protect.

“Tonight,” Thorne decided.

Silas nodded, but his hand found Thorne's, fingers intertwining. Neither spoke of how wrong separation felt after everything they'd survived together.

The capital's spires appeared on the horizon as afternoon shadows lengthened. Crowds gathered along the main road, news of their approach spreading like wildfire. Some cheered, others watched with hostile silence. Thorne noted how rumors had fractured public opinion. Hero or harbinger, savior or threat, the stories multiplied with each retelling.

Diana met them at the palace gates, relief naked on her usually composed features. “Thank the gods,” she breathed, embracing Silas with surprising force. “When we heard about the battle...”

“We survived,” Silas assured her. “Though not unchanged.”

Her gaze swept their group, lingering on Thorne before settling on Nathaniel. “Him,” she whispered. “After all these years.”

“You know me?” Nathaniel asked.

“I was a child when you were exiled,” Diana replied. “But stories persist. Your return will cause quite a stir.”

“Good,” Nathaniel managed a grim smile. “Time to shake things up.”

Guards ushered them through increasingly ornate corridors. Thorne felt magic layered into the very stones, ancient protections mingling with newer wards. Some reacted to his presence, testing and probing before accepting his passage.

In private chambers, Diana's formality dropped. “Your father woke three days ago,” she reported. “Coherent but... changed. He speaks little of what happened during his coma.”

“His position on magical integration?” Silas asked.

“Unclear. He's met with various factions but commits to nothing. The court fractures further each day.”

“And the shadows?” Thorne interjected. “Have they reached here?”

Diana's expression darkened. “Small incidents. Servants reporting strange dreams. Minor artifacts behaving erratically. Nothing overt, but the pattern suggests infiltration.”

“Sebastian tests our defenses,” Thorne concluded. “Probing for weakness before striking in force.”

They spent the next hour implementing additional protections. Thorne wove guardian magic through existing wards while Diana coordinated with palace security. Kai and Briar added their own touches, creating a layered defense that might buy time when assault came.

Silas watched as Thorne moved methodically along the palace's ancient walls, his transformed hands tracing patterns that glowed briefly before sinking into the stone. The guardian's movements were precise but strained, his newly recovered strength clearly being pushed to its limits.

“Are you sure you're strong enough for this?” Silas asked, concern evident in his voice. “You've barely recovered from what happened.”

Thorne paused, his cosmic eyes meeting Silas's. “I have to be,” he replied simply. “These existing wards were designed to keep guardians out, not to protect against what's coming. They need to be... repurposed.”

As Thorne worked, the stones beneath his touch seemed to awaken. Patterns that had lain dormant for centuries—guardian runes hidden beneath layers of mortar and royal insignia—began to glow with renewed purpose. The castle walls themselves appeared to exhale, as if remembering a connection long forgotten.

They spent the next hour implementing additional protections. Thorne wove guardian magic through existing wards while Diana coordinated with palace security. Kai and Briar added their own touches, creating a layered defense that might buy time when assault came.

As evening fell, servants prepared chambers for their group. Thorne found himself alone with Silas for the first time since leaving the forest. The weight of impending separation pressed between them.

The night air curled in through the half-cracked window, laced with the wild scent of distant pine and blooming starvine. Thorne stood beside the bed, his fingers laced with Silas’s, heart thrumming with the ache of what he was about to leave behind. The pull of the Eldergrove whispered at the edges of his magic, a quiet urgency laced with worry. Elder Willow was weakening. He could feel it, even now—a thinning of her song in the symphony of the forest.

But Silas’s eyes were on him.

“Stay,” the young man whispered, voice low and raw with feeling. He reached up, fingertips brushing Thorne’s cheek like they were memorizing the slope of it.

Thorne didn’t answer with words. Instead, he closed the small distance between them and crushed their mouths together, swallowing whatever breath remained between them. Silas tasted like the summer rain that clung to the leaves outside. Like sweetness. Like safety. Like home.

They fell into each other without grace, their bodies a tangle of limbs and need. Thorne’s hands roamed Silas’s skin, relearning it like a sacred text—freckles and scars and every shiver his touch inspired. He pressed kisses along the curve of Silas’s jaw, down his throat, then lower still, mouth reverent as he worshipped the body beneath him.

Clothes were shed without ceremony, littering the stone floor. The fireplace crackled in the background, casting gold over pale skin and scars and shifting tattoos that glowed faintly across Thorne’s arms. His magic stirred, responding to the emotional storm inside him. Not just lust, but fear. Longing. Love.

Silas opened for him, legs parted and eyes half-lidded, flushed and beautiful. He looked at Thorne like he was something holy.

“You have me,” Silas said, voice rough. “Take me.”

Thorne did.

He slicked his cock with spit and need, pressing it slowly into Silas’s waiting hole, inch by inch. The stretch made Silas gasp, fingers clutching at Thorne’s shoulders as his back arched. Thorne groaned low in his throat, burying himself to the hilt with a shudder that threatened to undo him far too soon.

They moved together, hips rocking in a rhythm carved from years of yearning. Every thrust was slow, deep, meant to be remembered. Silas trembled beneath him, moaning into Thorne’s mouth, nails scraping deliciously down his back.

Magic crackled around them—uncontrolled, untamed. Glyphs appeared along the walls, glowing with green and gold light, shaped by instinct rather than spellwork. Protective sigils burned themselves into the stone floor beneath the bed, a tapestry of warding and connection spun from their joined power.

Thorne pressed his forehead to Silas’s, breath ragged.

“You feel like the forest,” Silas whispered. “Wild. Endless.”

Thorne kissed him. Deep. Possessive.

Afterward, they lay tangled together, neither willing to waste precious moments on sleep.

“Promise me,” Silas murmured against Thorne's chest. “Promise you'll come back.”

“Always,” Thorne vowed. “Nothing could keep me from you.”

* * *

As Thorne dressed, a knock interrupted their last moments together. Diana entered, her expression grim.

“The King requests a private audience with Silas immediately,” she announced. “Before any formal court proceedings.”

Silas tensed. “Now?”

“His Majesty was... insistent.” Diana's careful tone spoke volumes.

Thorne's protective instincts flared. “I'm coming with you.”

“No,” Silas said firmly. “This is exactly what we discussed. My father wants to test me, see if I'll defy him by bringing the forest guardian to our first meeting.”

“It's a power play,” Thorne realized.

“Everything with him is.” Silas squared his shoulders. “Go. Save Elder Willow. I'll handle my father.”

“Be careful,” he whispered. “He may be your father, but he's also the man who abandoned you.”

“And you be safe,” Silas returned. “Come back to me.”

“I love you,” Silas whispered.

“And I you,” Thorne returned. “That will not change with distance.”

Diana stepped forward. “I'll protect him,” she promised. “You have my word.”

Thorne studied her face, reading sincerity beneath her professional mask. “I know you will. Thank you.”

Kai approached next, Briar perched on his shoulder. “We're coming with you,” he announced.

“No,” Thorne shook his head. “Silas needs you here.”

“Silas has an army,” Kai argued. “The forest has you and a handful of weakened guardians. Besides, someone needs to keep Briar out of trouble.”

“Hey!” the sprite protested.

Silas looked at his friend with concern. “Are you sure about this, Kai? It's going to be dangerous. The Eldergrove is in worse shape than when we left.”

Kai's usual smirk softened into something more genuine. “I need to do something concrete, Silas. Politics and palace intrigue were always more your specialty than mine.” A slight flush colored his cheeks. “And if I'm being honest, Eliar is there. After everything that's happened... I need to see him.”

“Ah,” Silas nodded, understanding dawning. “Say no more.”

Thorne considered refusing again, but recognized the wisdom in Kai's words. Additional help would be welcome, especially from those who understood both worlds. And he couldn't deny the strength that came from the bond between Kai and Eliar—he'd seen it firsthand.

“Very well,” he conceded. “But we leave immediately.”

Final preparations took little time. Palace mages offered transportation spells, normally anathema to guardian sensibilities. Thorne accepted, recognizing urgency outweighed tradition.

As mystical energies gathered, Thorne looked back one last time. Silas stood framed in morning light, beautiful and strong despite everything. Kai remained at his side, a steady presence offering support. Their bond pulsed with shared emotion: love, fear, determination.

Then magic swept Thorne away, racing toward a forest that might already be dying.

The spell deposited him at the Eldergrove's edge, where corruption's touch was immediately apparent. Trees that should have been vibrant with spring growth stood twisted and gray. Shadow creatures skittered through undergrowth, fleeing Thorne's presence but not far enough.

Briar found him moments later, having traveled through their own forest paths. “Hurts,” they whispered, pressing close to Thorne's neck. “Everything hurts.”

Thorne reached out with his senses, feeling the forest's pain like physical wounds. Sebastian's power had grown exponentially, feeding on fear and division. What had been subtle corruption now spread like aggressive cancer.

“We need to reach the Heart Grove,” Thorne decided. “Elder Willow first, then assess the full damage.”

They moved quickly through familiar paths made strange by shadow's touch. Creatures that once greeted Thorne with joy now watched with hollow eyes or fled entirely. The very air felt thick, resistant to their passage.

A corrupted dryad attacked near the Crystal Springs. Once beautiful, now she was all thorns and rage, screaming wordlessly as she lunged. Thorne caught her gently, pouring cleansing energy through their connection. She collapsed weeping, free but broken by what she'd become.

“There will be more,” Thorne warned. “Sebastian turns our own against us.”

They encountered proof repeatedly. Corrupted spirits, twisted animals, even the land itself sometimes rose in opposition. Each confrontation drained Thorne's reserves, but stopping to rest meant abandoning others to shadow's embrace.

Kai proved invaluable, his unique magic cutting through corruption like a blade. Briar coordinated with uncorrupted spirits, gathering intelligence and warning of ambushes. Together they carved a path toward the grove's heart.

Night fell before they reached their destination. In darkness, corruption grew bolder. Shadow creatures massed for coordinated assault, testing their defenses with increasing sophistication.

“They learn,” Briar observed, darting between attacks. “Adapting to our tactics.”

“Sebastian guides them,” Thorne replied. “His consciousness spreads through the corruption network.”

The final approach required fighting through densest shadow yet. Thorne drew deeply on his bond with Silas, feeling his mate's strength across the distance. Power blazed from his hands, burning away darkness to reveal the heart grove.

Elder Willow stood at center, her ancient form diminished but still powerful. Once radiant with inner light, now she flickered like a guttering candle. Other guardians surrounded her, channeling what energy remained to sustain her failing essence.

“Thorne,” her voice resonated with fading strength. “You return.”

“I'm sorry I left,” he knelt before her. “I thought... I thought I had more time.”

“Time flows strangely now,” she replied. “Sebastian's power disrupts natural order. Past and future blur.”

Thorne placed his hands on her shoulders, assessing the damage. Corruption had worked deep into her being, poisoning the very essence that made her a nexus of forest power. Healing would require more strength than he possessed alone.

“We need help,” he admitted. “The fey courts, other magical races. This threatens everyone.”

“Messages have been sent,” Elder Willow assured him. “Some answer. Others... others embrace the coming darkness.”

The revelation chilled Thorne's blood. If Sebastian had allies among the courts, their situation was even more dire than imagined.

“What of the palace?” Elder Willow asked. “Young Silas faces his own trials?”

“He meets with his father,” Thorne replied. “Seeking alliance against Sebastian's forces.”

“Good. Unity may be our only salvation.” Her voice faded further. “I must rest now. The others will brief you fully.”

As Elder Willow's consciousness receded, other guardians approached. Their reports painted a comprehensive picture of devastation. Whole sections of forest lost to shadow. Ancient protections failing. Creatures fleeing or succumbing to corruption's call.

“We can't hold much longer,” Rowan admitted. “Not without significant reinforcement.”

Thorne considered their options. Abandoning the Eldergrove meant conceding their greatest stronghold to Sebastian. But remaining to fight might mean losing everything in one catastrophic battle.

“We need to buy time,” he decided. “Strengthen what defenses remain while seeking allies. Kai, can you help establish communication networks?”

“Already on it,” Kai replied. “Briar and I have some ideas about combining human and fey magic for enhanced message spells.”

They worked through the night, implementing emergency measures. Thorne poured his own essence into failing wards, knowing he weakened himself but seeing no alternative. Every hour bought was another chance for help to arrive.

As dawn approached, exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. Only thoughts of Silas, preparing to face his father, kept Thorne focused. Their bond hummed with nervous energy from the palace.

Be strong, he sent through their connection. I'm with you.

The response came immediately: Always.

A scout's warning interrupted his reverie. “Movement at the eastern border. Large force, mixed shadow and corrupted fey.”

“Sebastian tests our readiness,” Thorne growled. “Show me.”

They reached an overlook as the enemy force emerged from shadow. Hundreds strong, a mixture of creatures that should never ally. At their head rode a figure wreathed in darkness.

“Not Sebastian,” Kai observed. “But someone powerful.”

“One of his lieutenants,” Thorne agreed. “Sent to gauge our remaining strength.”

The army advanced deliberately, corruption spreading before them like oil on water. Trees withered at their approach. Animals fled or fell convulsing as shadow touched them.

“We can't match their numbers,” Rowan warned.

“We don't have to,” Thorne replied. “We just need to make victory too costly to pursue.”

He reached deep into the forest's remaining power, calling on ancient pacts and primal forces. The land itself rose in response, thorned barriers erupting from soil, chasms opening to swallow advance units.

Kai added his own magic, weaving illusions that multiplied their apparent numbers. Corrupted fey hesitated, uncertain which targets were real. Briar coordinated with forest spirits, creating confusion in enemy ranks.

The shadow lieutenant raised a hand, dark energy gathering around their form. Thorne recognized the attack pattern and countered with pure forest magic. Powers clashed in spectacular display, neither gaining clear advantage.

“They're probing,” Thorne realized. “Testing our capabilities for the real assault.”

As if hearing his words, the enemy force began withdrawing. They'd gathered the intelligence they sought. The true battle would come soon.

“Double the watches,” Thorne ordered. “Rotate guardians to maintain ward strength. This is going to be a long siege.”