Page 85 of Soul of Thorns
I growl, running harder, faster, through the smoke and raging anger of the spirits on this mountain.
Undeserving.
Weak.
Pathetic.
Nothing.
Evil, just like us.
My boots skid as I pull myself to a sudden stop.
I am three-quarters of the way up the mountain now, but before me is a fork in the path. One path goes up with an arch of thorns curling over it. One goes down with an arch of shinning black stone carved over it.
I look out past the mountain trails and to the expansive view. Dark lands stretch out so far it’s hard to even fathom. The ring of burning red flame glows only a mile away, and beyond it, the green vines covered in thorns that surround the rest of the lands. I can just make out the lands beyond, scattered shades of green. Hazy and vague but there.
Far but visible.
This way, the voices tell me. Streaks of black and red and yellow light soar past me and through the path on the left, through the thorn arch, leading farther up the mountain.
I swallow, panting. A choice. I have to make a choice.
A gentle nudge pushes me right. A harsh rush of magic pushes me left. Well, isn’t this a fun game?
“Which way do I go?” I mutter aloud, more to myself than anything, but my wraith murmurs in confusion.
“A riddle, perhaps?” He wafts beside me. “What are the voices telling you?”
“You don’t hear them?” I finally ask. I hadn’t thought much of it, mostly because I refused to think much of anything. I knew my feet had to continue, and anything else was a distraction. Now... I have to stop. I am forced to consider many things.
“What I hear is for me. What you hear is for you.”
“What do you hear?”
He sighs. “Oh, a myriad of things. Some of these spirits I have known personally. They hate me for the choices I made. They are jealous I’ve been free for many years, working for the temporary Shadow Court Queen.”
Temporary. “The Queen of The Whisperwood,” I whisper.
“Is not Corranda,” he says. Telling me what I already knew but refused to consider. “She is a steward. Holding it only until you arrive to take your rightful place.”
I pull in a long breath.
“You, Caelynn, are Queen of the Whisperwood.”
I close my eyes, grief hitting me hard. Agony of what I’ve lost bombards me. I haven’t let any of it settle in my mind. What should have been. Those beautiful lands I adored so much, the shadow sprites, the phantoms, my people living in doubt and poverty.
What belonged to me, stolen.
I shake my head. It was lost long ago. I cannot uncover it now. It’s too late.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to Darren. To the people thousands of miles away that will never know what I’ve done. To the shadow sprites.
“It was never your fault, child.”
I close my eyes and release a long breath. All of the guilt I’ve held— I could allow it to swallow me whole. I ache with it, and I accept that ache. But I will not let what I’ve lost define me.
I have so much good still here.
