Page 98 of Shattered Crown

“I remember my first transformation,” Eliar said, his voice carrying the music of distant stars. “The vastness threatens to erase who you were. But it doesn't have to.” He knelt beside them. “The key is not to fight the expansion, but to remain rooted in what makes you yourself.”

“How?” Thorne's question held desperate hope.

“Through connections.” Eliar gestured to Silas. “Through love. Through purpose. The cosmic awareness is a tool, not your identity.”

Silas felt Thorne's grip on him tighten. Through their bond, he sensed Thorne trying to process Eliar's words, struggling to find balance between his expanded consciousness and his essential self.

“We should secure the area,” Diana interrupted, ever practical. “The Eldergrove's defenses are compromised. We're vulnerable here.”

Lyra emerged from another path, several loyal guardians behind her. “We've maintained what barriers we could, but without central coordination, they're failing.”

“The Heart Grove,” Briar said. “It's the most protected area, even now.”

They moved as a group, surrounding Thorne and Silas protectively. The journey through the wounded forest revealed more damage. Corrupted patches where Sebastian's influence had taken root, areas where reality itself seemed thin and fractured.

Thorne walked as if in a daze, leaning heavily on Silas. Every few steps, he would flinch or gasp, reacting to something only he could perceive through his expanded senses.

“The northern grove just fell,” he whispered at one point. “I felt them die. Every single one.”

Silas could only hold him tighter, sharing the burden of grief through their bond.

The Heart Grove, when they reached it, showed signs of recent battle. Scorch marks marred ancient stones, and several trees bore wounds that wept silver sap. But the central area remained intact, protected by layers of old magic.

Surprisingly, Lady Evangeline arrived with additional support from the palace. Her presence represented the crown's commitment and provided political weight to Thorne's position. She dismounted from her horse with the grace of someone half her age, her silver hair catching the filtered sunlight. Guards formed a protective circle around her, but she waved them back.

“The crown stands with the Eldergrove,” Lady Evangeline announced formally. “What affects one realm affects all.”

Her eyes found Thorne, and something shifted in her expression—a softening that Silas had rarely seen in his grandmother. She approached slowly, studying Thorne's transformed state with a mixture of awe and unexpected familiarity.

“May I?” she asked, gesturing to a space beside Thorne.

Thorne nodded, still overwhelmed by his new awareness. Lady Evangeline settled beside him with deliberate care, her formal court attire incongruous against the forest floor.

“You remind me of someone,” she said quietly. “Long ago, before fear made us forget what we once were.”

Thorne turned to her, cosmic eyes focusing with effort. “Who?”

“Your predecessor's predecessor. We called him Starweaver.” Her voice held a distant quality, as if reaching back through decades. “I was very young, barely more than a child. My father brought me to witness the last formal meeting between crown and grove.”

Silas started. This was history he'd never heard, stories kept from official records.

“Starweaver had eyes like yours,” Lady Evangeline continued. “Depths that held galaxies. He terrified most of the court, but I...” She smiled slightly. “I thought he was beautiful. The way you are beautiful now—terrible and wonderful at once.”

Thorne's expression flickered with interest despite his grief. “What happened to him?”

“Politics. Fear. The gradual erosion of trust.” Lady Evangeline's hands twisted in her lap. “The court convinced itself that such power threatened human sovereignty. They built walls—physical, magical, political. Starweaver withdrew, heartbroken. The forest closed its borders. And we all pretended it was for the best.”

“Until now,” Thorne said softly.

“Until now.” She reached out, hesitated, then gently touched Thorne's arm. Energy sparked at the contact, but she didn't flinch. “I've spent decades regretting that silence. Watching the divide grow wider, the misunderstanding deeper. When Silas chose you, chose love over tradition, I saw a chance to mend what my generation broke.”

Thorne stared at her, processing this revelation. Through their bond, Silas felt his surprise, his reassessment of the formidable lady he'd known only as a political force.

“Why tell me this now?” Thorne asked.

“Because you need to know that isolation wasn't always the way. That there were times when human and guardian worked side by side, loved side by side.” Her eyes flickered to Silas. “What you and my grandson share isn't an aberration. It's a return to what should have been.”

She stood, brushing dirt from her skirts with practiced motions. “I brought more than guards,” she announced to the group. “I brought records. Documents hidden in the royal archives that detail the old alliances, the shared magics, the bonds that once united our peoples.”

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