Page 35 of Shattered Crown

“You can't do this,” Silas gasped, struggling against the guards. Their grip only tightened, and he felt magical restraints flare to life, ancient symbols burning against his skin. “The old pacts forbid?—”

“Will be rewritten,” the king declared. “As they should have been centuries ago.”

A movement in the crowd drew Silas's attention. Sebastian emerged, his expression contemplative rather than triumphant. “So this is your grand plan,” he observed, studying the ritual components. “Crude, but effective.”

“Sebastian.” The king nodded acknowledgment. “You've arrived just in time to witness our ascendancy.”

“Have I?” Sebastian circled the ritual space, his boots crunching on scattered salt and iron filings. “I notice you didn't invite me to participate in the planning.”

“It was best kept contained,” Thomas said carefully.

Sebastian's laugh held no warmth. “Contained. Interesting word choice.” He rolled up his sleeves, revealing intricate brands carved along his arms. The symbols pulsed with dark power, casting a sickly sheen on the air around him. “For years, you've pretended neutrality while nursing this ambition. Using the fear of magic to gather power.”

The king's face tightened. “Sebastian?—”

“No.” Sebastian's voice cut through the air like a blade. “I've waited long enough for this moment.” He stepped closer to Silas, studying him with new intensity. “You really thought you could wield the Eldergrove's power without understanding its true nature?”

Through their bond, Silas felt Thorne's alarm spike sharply. The forest itself began to stir, an ominous trembling that spoke of fury barely contained.

“The entity has grand plans,” Sebastian continued, his brands growing brighter. “But those plans don't include sharing power with an aging king who lacks the vision to see beyond petty conquest.”

Thomas's eyes widened as understanding dawned too late. “You're working with?—”

“The shadow entity?” Sebastian smiled. “Who do you think showed me these brands? Who revealed the truth about guardian power?” He raised his marked arms. “I've been preparing for this day far longer than you've been scheming, dear uncle.”

Dark energy crackled from Sebastian's outstretched hands. Before Thomas could react, before his guards could intervene, Sebastian struck. A spear of shadow erupted from his palm, piercing the king's chest with terrible force.

The king staggered, his artifacts shattering into useless shards. For a heartbeat, time froze. Father and son locked eyes across the sudden chaos.

Silas wrenched free from his captors. “Father!”

Thomas collapsed to his knees, blood soaking into the ritual earth. The hunting party dissolved into panic, nobles and guards fleeing as Sebastian's true nature revealed itself.

“You were always limited by your humanity,” Sebastian declared, standing over his fallen king. “The Eldergrove requires something more evolved to wield its power.”

Silas felt Thorne's fury like a gathering storm. The crystal at his chest flared with searing heat, its heartbeat matching his own desperate one.

“Thorne,” he whispered, though part of him wanted to warn his guardian away. “Do not come. It is a trap?—”

But the forest had already begun to move.

The trees groaned as if waking from a centuries-long slumber. Roots tore through the tainted earth. Branches twisted into living spears. Creatures of bark and shadow rose from the soil, shedding human illusions. The corrupted magic Sebastian and Thomas had planted could not stand against the raw, ancient will of the Eldergrove.

And at the storm's center stood Thorne.

No longer wearing the fragile mask of humanity, he was something older, more terrible. His antlers spiraled into a crown of living thorns, his skin bark and silver-veined flesh. His eyes—once so tender when they looked at Silas—burned now with the fury of gods and storms.

The hunting party scattered like startled deer. Nobles, guards, and courtiers alike fled before the rising wrath of the forest, their fine clothes snagging on thorns, their trained horses bucking and screaming. Even enchanted hounds whimpered and cowered.

Only Sebastian stood his ground, a smirk playing on his lips as his brands flared with answering darkness. “Finally,” he breathed. “A worthy opponent.”

Thorne answered with a sound that cracked the very air—not words, but the breaking of something ancient and sacred. The forest responded to his fury, branches reaching like claws toward heaven, roots erupting beneath feet that had dared violate sacred ground. Each step warped reality around him, rage and power intertwining in a display that made the very air shimmer with heat.

“You.” Thorne's voice resonated with harmonics that made leaves tremble. “You orchestrated this travesty.”

Sebastian's smirk widened as he faced the guardian. “About time you arrived. I was beginning to think my cousin's bond meant nothing.”

“My boy,” the king rasped, his voice cold even as life drained from him. His eyes narrowed, assessing Silas as he always had, calculation persisting even through trauma. “I tried... to build something that would endure.”

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