Chapter 9 — The Vale of Thorns
1500 Words
The mountains rose like broken crowns against the dawn.
Eirena had seen them before once, as a child at the Queen’s knee, staring out from the Starlit Court’s highest spire. Then, they had shimmered with ethereal light, peaks wrapped in veils of silver mist. Now, they were dark and jagged, stripped of beauty by the Queen’s spreading shadow.
Each step toward them felt heavier. The air thickened with cold magic, the scent of iron and frost seeping into her lungs. The closer they came, the more the bond between her and Kael thrummed sometimes with warmth, sometimes with pain.
Kael walked a few paces ahead, his sword slung across his back. He hadn’t spoken much since they left the River of Echoes, but she could feel his tension pulsing through their shared tether. He was wary not just of the Queen’s hunt, but of her.
When the valley opened before them, Eirena stopped.
The Vale of Thorns stretched wide, a bowl-shaped hollow filled with pale vines that shimmered faintly beneath the morning light. Thousands of white blossoms grew in precise, spiraling patterns across the earth, their petals streaked with silver. At the center stood a great, crystalline structure half monument, half living thing its surface covered in runes that pulsed faintly like a sleeping heart.
Kael stared. “What is this place?”
Eirena’s voice was barely a whisper. “A garden of remembrance. The Queen’s first creation.”
He frowned. “You mean… she grew this?”
“Yes,” she said. “From the remnants of the first stars she broke. Each thorn marks a soul she bound to the Crown.”
Kael stepped closer, kneeling beside one of the blossoms. Its petals curled toward him, drawn by warmth. But when he reached to touch it, the stem retracted sharply, thorn slicing across his finger. Blood welled. The flower drank it greedily, and its color deepened to red.
Kael hissed. “They feed on blood?”
“Memory,” Eirena corrected. “Blood just makes it easier.”
He rose slowly, staring at his bleeding hand. “So this is what she built from the souls she took.”
“No,” Eirena said. “This is what she built from the souls she couldn’t control.”
He turned to her sharply. “Couldn’t control?”
She nodded. “When a fae rejects the Crown’s binding, their essence twists. The Queen plants what’s left here to keep them from fading entirely. Each bloom is a prison.”
Kael’s eyes darkened. “And you brought us here because…?”
Eirena swallowed. “Because my essence is rooted here too.”
They reached the monument at the Vale’s center by midday. The crystal surface glowed faintly, casting long, fractured beams of light over the vines below. Up close, Kael saw that it wasn’t one solid mass but countless smaller shards woven together, humming softly with power.
Eirena touched the surface, and the runes ignited beneath her hand.
The air shimmered. The vines around them rustled, turning toward her like living things recognizing their maker.
Kael tensed. “Eirena…”
She closed her eyes. “It’s all right. They remember me.”
Light burst from the monument, rippling outward. In its wake, the thorns bloomed open, revealing faint silhouettes inside each blossom figures of light and memory. Voices filled the air, murmuring fragments of songs and prayers.
Kael stepped back, awe and horror mingling in his expression. “Gods… they’re alive.”
“Barely,” Eirena whispered. “This is what the Queen does to those she loves.”
One of the silhouettes stepped forward a tall, elegant figure with hair of starlight and eyes like molten gold. Her voice was clear and cold, ringing across the valley.
“You should not have come here, child.”
Kael’s hand went to his sword. “Who?”
Eirena raised a trembling hand. “Mother.”
The figure smiled. “Still calling me that. How quaint.”
Kael froze. “That’s her?”
“Not her,” Eirena said quietly. “A projection. A shard of her will, anchored in the Vale.”
The Queen’s reflection tilted her head. “I gave you life, Eirena. I bound the fragments of a dying star into a body that could contain its fire. You are my greatest creation and my greatest disappointment.”
Eirena’s jaw tightened. “You forged me to serve, not to live.”
The Queen’s voice softened, dangerous in its beauty. “You misunderstand. I made you to endure. You carry what the rest of us cannot the balance between mortal decay and eternal light. Without you, the Crown will fall apart.”
“Then let it,” Eirena said. “Let it crumble.”
The Queen’s expression flickered. “You think the world beyond my court will survive without it? You’ve seen the stars dying, haven’t you? Every spark you save from me only hastens their extinction.”
Kael stepped forward. “You’re lying.”
The Queen’s gaze fell on him, and he felt the full weight of her power through the illusion. “And you are the shadow that follows my daughter. Do you even know what she is bound to?”
Kael’s voice was steady. “I know enough.”
Her smile widened. “Then you know that bond will kill you both.”
Eirena flinched. “Enough!”
The Queen’s image began to fade, but her voice lingered in the air, cold and distant.
“Find the second shard, daughter. When you do, you’ll see the truth—that every thorn must return to its crown.”
Then she was gone.
The valley fell silent. The blossoms folded back into their spirals, the vines settling. Kael exhaled slowly, his hands still trembling.
“Well,” he said. “That was… horrifying.”
Eirena didn’t respond. She was staring at the monument, her expression unreadable.
Kael approached carefully. “What did she mean, second shard?”
Eirena touched the crystal again, and a faint pulse of light spread from its core. “The Crown isn’t a single relic. It was forged from three fragments of the same star the Heart, the Thorn, and the Veil.”
“And this?” Kael asked.
“This is the Veil,” she said. “The shard that bridges life and memory. It’s what allows her to erase names from existence.”
Kael frowned. “So if we destroy it”
“She’ll weaken,” Eirena finished. “But it’s not simple. Each shard is alive. Destroying one might unravel the fabric of both realms.”
Kael folded his arms. “And your plan?”
Her eyes glimmered with cold fire. “To take the shards before she can.”
He stared at her. “You want to claim them?”
“Yes.”
“That’s madness.”
“Maybe,” she said softly. “But it’s the only way to stop her.”
He rubbed a hand across his face. “You’re talking about wielding the power that made her a god.”
“I’m talking about rewriting the rules,” she said. “If the Crown can bind, it can unbind. If it can erase, it can restore.”
Kael met her gaze, seeing for the first time the full scope of her intent the fire behind the calm, the desperation beneath her resolve. “Eirena… if you do this, there’s no going back.”
“I know.”
He sighed. “Then I guess I’m coming with you.”
She smiled faintly. “You don’t have to.”
“I do,” he said simply. “Because if you fall, I fall. That’s what the bond means.”
Her eyes softened. “Then may we both learn to stand.”
They made camp beneath the monument as night fell. The valley glowed faintly, the vines breathing in rhythm with the stars. Kael sat near the fire, sharpening his blade while Eirena traced runes into the dirt.
He glanced up. “You’re not sleeping.”
“Could you, after that?”
He smirked. “Fair point.”
Silence stretched between them, comfortable for a while. Then Kael spoke again, quieter. “When she said the bond would kill us… she wasn’t lying, was she?”
Eirena froze. “No. The bond draws from both our life forces. If the balance breaks, it consumes the weaker link.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “And which one of us is that?”
“Neither yet,” she said. “But it’s changing. I feel it.”
Kael leaned back, staring at the stars. “So we’re racing against time and a goddess.”
She smiled faintly. “Just another day, then.”
He turned to her. “You ever wonder what happens if we win?”
Eirena looked at him, her expression unreadable. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought that far.”
“Then maybe you should,” he said softly.
- Writer
