Page 88 of Shattered Crown

“Child,” she whispered, her voice like autumn leaves scraping stone.

Thorne approached slowly, each step revealing more damage. The corruption had progressed faster than he'd feared, eating away at the very core of her being.

“The outer groves?” she asked.

“Holding, but barely. The shadow creatures grow bolder with each passing hour.”

Elder Willow nodded, the simple motion seeming to cost her greatly. “Call the council. Time grows short.”

The summons went out through root and branch, carried on winds that tasted of decay. One by one, the elder guardians materialized: Oak-Lord with his crown of acorns, River-Singer whose watery form now ran murky, Stone-Heart emerging from the earth itself. Each bore signs of battle, their essence diminished by constant warfare against corruption.

“She fades,” Oak-Lord stated bluntly. “And with her, our coordination.”

“The network unravels,” River-Singer added, her melodious voice cracked with strain. “Individual groves lose contact. Some have gone silent entirely.”

Thorne listened as reports painted an increasingly grim picture. Ancient trees dying overnight, sacred springs turning to poison, protective spirits fleeing or succumbing to shadow's embrace. The Eldergrove, which had stood for millennia, was dying from within.

“We must try the old healing,” Stone-Heart rumbled. “Channel our combined essence.”

“It failed before,” Thorne reminded them. “The corruption adapts, learns from each attempt.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Oak-Lord challenged. “Watch our mother-tree wither?”

Before Thorne could respond, Elder Willow raised a trembling hand. “Enough. The old ways serve us no longer.” Her gaze fixed on Thorne. “Come. We must speak alone.”

The council dispersed reluctantly, their worried glances following Thorne as he approached Elder Willow. She gestured to a moss-covered stone, and he sat, feeling like a child about to receive difficult news.

“You know what comes next,” she said without preamble.

Thorne's chest tightened. “There must be another way.”

“Must there?” Her laugh held no humor. “For three thousand years, I have been the heart of this forest. I have seen empires rise and fall, watched mountains crumble to dust. All things end, Thorne. Even guardians.”

“But the corruption...”

“Is winning because we cling to old patterns.” She leaned forward, her form solidifying briefly with effort. “The leadership of the Eldergrove is not merely a position. It is a transformation. A merging with the forest's primordial consciousness.”

Thorne recoiled instinctively. “I can't. My bond with Silas...”

“Would change, not break.” Elder Willow's eyes, ancient beyond measure, held his. “You fear what you might become. But consider what you already are: a bridge between worlds. Your love for that human boy has already transformed you in ways you don't fully understand.”

“I won't abandon him.”

“Who speaks of abandonment? I speak of evolution.” She gestured weakly at the dying forest around them. “The old separations failed us. Perhaps unity is our only path forward.”

Through their bond, Thorne felt Silas's sudden attention. His partner had sensed the emotional turmoil and now listened carefully.

“Tell me what it means,” Thorne demanded. “All of it.”

Elder Willow sighed, the sound like wind through dead branches. “You would become the nexus, the living heart of the forest's magic. Every tree, every creature, every blade of grass would be part of you. Their pain, your pain. Their joy, your joy.”

“And Silas?”

“Would remain your anchor to the human world. Your bond might be the key to something new, something never before attempted.” Her form flickered dangerously. “The forest needs change, Thorne. It needs someone who understands both isolation and connection.”

She's right,Silas's thoughts whispered through their bond.We've already changed everything else. Why not this?

You don't understand what it would mean,Thorne protested.

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