Kaelyn pressed deeper into the forest, where the twisted branches knotted overhead like fingers clawing at the sky. The air grew cooler, the shadows darker, as if the Thornwood itself was pulling her into its ancient heart. Each step was muffled by a carpet of moss and fallen leaves, and the silence pressed so close it felt as though the trees themselves were holding their breath.
The blood on her wrist had stopped dripping, but the sting lingered—an ever-present reminder of the price she'd already paid. Her thoughts churned with the Thorn Queen's words, haunting and half-revealed.
A key. A reckoning.
Kaelyn wasn't sure if she believed it—or if she wanted to.
The forest seemed to whisper in riddles, the wind carrying fragments of forgotten songs and half-remembered names. She paused beside an ancient oak, its bark rough like cracked skin, and pressed her palm against it. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her fingers, like the heartbeat of the forest itself.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
For a long moment, nothing answered—then a soft voice, like the rustling of leaves, seemed to rise from the wood.
Child of thorn and blood, bearer of broken vows…
Kaelyn stepped back, heart pounding.
From the shadows, a figure emerged—not the Thorn Queen this time, but someone smaller, lithe, with eyes like storm clouds and hair tangled with leaves and bark.
"You should not be here," the figure said, voice low and warning. "The forest does not forgive trespassers."
"Then why do you still walk within it?" Kaelyn demanded, not lowering her guard.
The figure smiled, a flash of sharp teeth. "Because I serve the Queen. I am her sentinel, her watcher."
Kaelyn's eyes narrowed. "Then you know what happened to my aunt?"
The sentinel's gaze flickered. "Many things are buried beneath these roots—lies and truths twisted together like briars. Your aunt made a choice, one that bound her fate to the Thorn Queen's in ways you cannot yet understand."
A chill crept along Kaelyn's spine.
"Tell me!" she urged. "I need to know."
The sentinel's smile faded. "Be careful what you seek. The forest's memory is long—and not all truths are meant for mortal ears."
Before Kaelyn could respond, the sentinel vanished into the shadows, leaving behind only the scent of damp earth and secrets.
Shaken, Kaelyn pressed on, her mind racing. The Thornwood was alive with mysteries, each more dangerous than the last.
As dusk deepened into night, she reached a clearing where moonlight spilled like silver through a break in the canopy. At its center lay a stone altar, cracked and worn, etched with runes that glowed faintly under her gaze.
Kaelyn knelt, tracing the symbols with trembling fingers. They told a story—of an ancient pact between the Thorn Queen and the first rulers of Eldareth, sealed in blood and bound by magic.
A sudden rustle behind her made her spin. Shadows shifted, and the Thorn Queen stepped into the light, her presence as commanding and terrifying as ever.
"You have found the heart of the forest's truth," the Queen said softly. "But beware—the deeper you delve, the darker the roots grow."
Kaelyn stood, meeting the Queen's gaze. "I'm not afraid."
The Queen's smile was enigmatic. "Fear is the veil that blinds us. But courage... courage is what breaks the curse."
The night settled around them, thick with promise and peril.
And beneath the veil of thorns, Kaelyn felt the first stirring of a power she never knew she held—and a destiny she could no longer deny.
Kaelyn's fingers trembled as she traced the glowing runes on the ancient altar, the weight of the Thorn Queen's words settling heavily on her shoulders. The air around her thickened, and the forest seemed to hush, as if waiting for something—or someone.
A sudden crack echoed through the trees, sharp and deliberate. Kaelyn spun, heart pounding, to find a figure emerging from the shadows.
Liora.
Her eyes, storm-grey and fierce, scanned Kaelyn with a mixture of suspicion and something softer—reluctant curiosity.
"You shouldn't be here," Liora said, voice low and steady. "The Thornwood doesn't welcome the living. Especially not those who carry the blood of betrayal."
Kaelyn straightened, trying to keep her fear buried beneath determination. "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to find answers. About my aunt... and this curse."
Liora's gaze flickered, the faintest shadow crossing her face. "Your aunt chose this path. No one forced her."
"Then tell me what path," Kaelyn challenged, stepping closer. "Why did she disappear? Why was she marked?"
For a long moment, Liora said nothing. Then she spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper, as if afraid the trees themselves might overhear:
"The Thorn Queen's curse is old—older than any crown or kingdom. It binds those who break the pact with the forest. Your aunt sought to protect you. She knew the price of defiance."
Kaelyn's breath caught. "Protect me? From what?"
Liora's eyes darkened with a storm of memory and regret. "From the Queen's wrath. From the shadows that hunger for blood and vengeance."
She took a step back, her silhouette blurring against the darkening woods. "If you truly seek to undo the curse, you must learn to see beyond the veil. But be warned—the deeper you go, the more you risk losing yourself."
Before Kaelyn could ask more, Liora vanished like mist, swallowed by the forest's breath.
Left alone once again, Kaelyn looked down at her bloodied wrist, feeling the thorns' sting like a promise—and a warning.
The Thornwood was alive.
And it was watching.