Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMCYBQWX6FZ815K10B87D8

Aurora Carter stood at the edge of the Fae Grove, the ancient oak standing stones looming like silent sentinels in the moonlight. The air was thick with the scent of wildflowers, their vibrant colors muted in the silvery glow. She adjusted the strap of her messenger bag, the weight of the Heartstone Pendant pressing lightly against her chest. The deep crimson gem pulsed faintly, a subtle warmth that seemed to seep into her skin. She had come here at Eva's insistence, a cryptic message urging her to find something important in the Grove. Rory had learned to trust Eva's instincts, even when they led her to places like this — places that felt like they existed on the edge of reality. She took a deep breath, the cool night air filling her lungs, and stepped past the standing stones. The moment she crossed the threshold, the world seemed to shift. The sounds of the city faded, replaced by an eerie stillness. Time moved differently here, she reminded herself. An hour inside could be minutes or days outside. She glanced at her watch, noting the time before she ventured deeper into the clearing. The wildflowers brushed against her legs as she walked, their petals soft and cool. The trees around her were ancient, their gnarled branches twisting towards the sky like skeletal fingers. She felt a shiver run down her spine, but she pushed it aside. She had a job to do. As she moved further into the Grove, the sense of wrongness began to build. It was subtle at first — a rustling in the underbrush that seemed too deliberate, shadows that flickered at the edge of her vision. She paused, listening intently, but heard nothing beyond the whisper of the wind through the leaves. "Eva?" she called out softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. There was no response, only the oppressive silence pressing in around her. She tightened her grip on the strap of her bag and continued forward, her eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. The path wound deeper into the Grove, the trees growing denser, their branches intertwining overhead to form a canopy that blocked out the moonlight. Rory's heart began to pound in her chest, the rhythmic thud echoing in her ears. She reached up to touch the Heartstone Pendant, its warmth a small comfort in the encroaching darkness. A sudden rustling to her left made her freeze. She turned slowly, her eyes straining to see through the gloom. For a moment, she thought she saw a figure standing among the trees, but when she blinked, it was gone. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, and forced herself to keep moving. The path led her to a small clearing, the ground carpeted with soft moss. In the center stood a stone altar, its surface worn smooth by time. Rory approached cautiously, her eyes darting around the clearing. The sense of being watched was almost overwhelming now, a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She reached the altar and placed her hand on its cool surface. The Heartstone Pendant pulsed more strongly, the warmth spreading through her chest. She closed her eyes, trying to focus, to sense whatever it was that Eva had sent her to find. A soft whispering filled the air, like the rustle of leaves in a breeze. Rory's eyes snapped open, her heart racing. The whispering grew louder, more insistent, but she couldn't make out the words. She turned in a slow circle, her eyes wide, searching for the source of the sound. The shadows at the edge of the clearing seemed to shift and move, coalescing into vague shapes that danced just beyond her vision. She took a step back, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The whispering grew louder still, a cacophony of voices that seemed to come from all around her. "Who's there?" she demanded, her voice trembling. The whispering stopped abruptly, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake. Rory's pulse pounded in her ears, the silence almost deafening. A figure stepped out of the shadows, its form indistinct in the darkness. Rory's breath caught in her throat as she tried to make out its features. It moved closer, and she could see that it was a woman, her face pale and gaunt, eyes hollow and empty. "Eva?" Rory whispered, her voice barely audible. The woman shook her head slowly, a sad smile playing on her lips. "Not Eva," she said, her voice a soft, mournful echo. "But I know why you're here." Rory took a step back, her mind racing. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice stronger now, though still tinged with fear. The woman tilted her head, her empty eyes seeming to bore into Rory's soul. "I am a guardian of this place," she said. "And you are not welcome here." Rory's hand went to the Heartstone Pendant, its warmth a small comfort against the chill that had settled over her. "I was sent here by a friend," she said, her voice steadying. "I'm looking for something important." The woman nodded slowly. "I know what you seek," she said. "But it comes at a price." Rory's heart sank. She had known this wouldn't be easy, but the weight of the woman's words pressed down on her like a physical force. "What price?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. The woman stepped closer, her form becoming more solid, more real. "You must leave something of yourself behind," she said. "A piece of your soul, to bind you to this place." Rory's breath caught in her throat. She had heard stories of the Fae and their bargains, but she had never imagined she would be faced with one herself. She glanced down at the Heartstone Pendant, its faint glow a reminder of why she was here. "I'll do it," she said, her voice firm. "Tell me what I need to do." The woman smiled, a sad, knowing smile. "Place your hand on the altar," she said. "And speak your name." Rory hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, her hand trembling as she placed it on the cold stone. She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting the woman's hollow gaze. "Aurora Carter," she said, her voice steady. The woman nodded, and a sudden pain shot through Rory's hand, spreading up her arm and into her chest. She gasped, her vision blurring as the pain intensified. She felt a part of herself being pulled away, a piece of her soul torn from her body. When the pain finally subsided, Rory collapsed to her knees, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The woman was gone, the clearing silent once more. She felt a deep emptiness inside her, a void where a part of her soul had once been. But she had what she came for. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small, intricately carved box. Inside was a key, its surface etched with ancient runes. She had no idea what it opened, but she knew it was important. Rory stood slowly, her legs trembling. She glanced around the clearing one last time, then turned and made her way back down the path. The sense of wrongness still lingered, but she pushed it aside. She had what she needed, and she would find a way to make it right. As she stepped back through the standing stones, the world shifted once more. The sounds of the city returned, the oppressive silence lifting. She glanced at her watch, noting that only a few minutes had passed. Rory took a deep breath, the cool night air filling her lungs. She had faced the darkness and come out the other side. But she knew that the price she had paid would haunt her for the rest of her life.