Night had fallen like a heavy curtain over Thornwood, wrapping the ancient forest in impenetrable shadow. The pale crescent moon hung low in the sky, casting shards of silver light through the thick canopy, but the darkness between the trees seemed to swallow the beams whole. Every step Kaelyn Everen took was slow and measured, her boots sinking softly into the damp earth. The scent of moss, wet bark, and something older—something like raw magic—filled the air.
She couldn't shake the sensation that the forest was alive in more ways than one. Each rustle of leaves, every whisper of the wind through the branches, seemed like a secret message meant just for her. It was as if Thornwood itself was watching, waiting, weaving some ancient spell that would change her forever.
Liora's warning echoed in her mind: See beyond the veil. Risk losing yourself.
What did it mean? Kaelyn felt the thorn's sting on her wrist—the raw, biting pain mingled with a strange warmth that pulsed like a heartbeat beneath her skin. The forest's power was bound to her now, as inescapable as her own blood.
Suddenly, a sharp sound shattered the stillness—a low grunt, a curse half-swallowed by thick brush. Kaelyn froze, every nerve alert. She crouched behind a wide oak, her hand instinctively slipping beneath her cloak to grip the hilt of her dagger.
"Show yourself!" she demanded, voice firm but low.
A figure emerged from the shadows—lean, fast, and wary. His clothes were torn, dirt and blood staining the faded fabric, and his dark eyes flicked nervously from side to side before landing on her. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace.
"I don't want trouble," he said quietly. "Name's Eran."
Kaelyn didn't lower her dagger yet. "Eran. Who are you? What are you doing in the Thornwood?"
The man hesitated, then took a cautious step forward. "I'm the exiled prince of Eldareth. Or at least, I was—until my family decided I was too dangerous to live."
The weight of those words pressed down on Kaelyn like a stone. A prince in exile, hiding in the heart of the forest where legends and curses grew like weeds.
"Why here?" she asked, eyes narrowed. "Why the Thornwood?"
Eran gave a bitter laugh. "Because this place is the only sanctuary left for those who flee the crown. My father's men tried to burn the forest last season—thought that fire could break the Queen's curse."
Kaelyn's mind flashed back to the blackened ruins near her village. "Did it work?"
He shook his head. "It only made the curse stronger. The Thornwood fought back. It's more alive, more dangerous than ever. Now, I'm hunted by my own blood—and by the shadows that serve the Queen."
Kaelyn swallowed hard. "Then we want the same thing. Answers. And maybe a way to end this."
Eran studied her closely, as if weighing the truth in her eyes. "You carry the mark of the cursed bloodline. Your aunt—she was tied to the Thorn Queen's fate deeper than you know."
Kaelyn's breath caught. "I need to find her. I need to know what she was protecting."
A long moment passed before Eran nodded slowly. "Then we travel together. The forest doesn't forgive, and the answers lie far beyond what the eye can see."
Without warning, a howl shattered the silence—a raw, guttural cry that was neither fully animal nor spirit. The sound sent a shiver racing down Kaelyn's spine.
"What was that?" she whispered.
Eran's hand moved to the dagger at his belt, his eyes scanning the shadows with sharp intensity. "Hunters. Creatures born of the Queen's wrath. They track by scent and sound. We don't have much time."
He dragged Kaelyn behind a thick clump of bushes as shapes began to move—pale, thorn-covered beasts with glowing eyes that seemed to burn through the dark. Their breathing was cold, like mist, and the air around them hummed with a dark magic.
"Stay silent. Stay still," Eran warned. Kaelyn pressed herself flat, heart hammering as the creatures prowled close, sniffing the air. Time slowed, stretched thin and taut like the string of a bow ready to snap.
Finally, the beasts slipped away into the shadows, leaving behind only the echo of their haunting cries.
Kaelyn's breath came in ragged gasps. "What are those things?"
"Guardians," Eran said grimly. "Not all of the Queen's servants wear crowns. Some wear claws."
She looked out at the forest around them, the trees seeming to close in, their branches like grasping fingers. The power of Thornwood wrapped around them like a living thing—wild, ancient, dangerous.
"We can't stay here," Eran said urgently. "If we want answers, we have to go deeper. But beware—this forest twists the mind and warps the soul. You'll see things no mortal was meant to witness."
Kaelyn met his gaze, feeling something harden inside her—a resolve stronger than fear. "I'm ready. Whatever comes, I won't turn away."
Eran nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "Good. Because once you step past the veil, there's no going back."
Together, they pressed forward into the heart of the Thornwood, the shadows whispering secrets and the promise of vengeance lurking beneath every leaf and thorn.