Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMVE1YGM65DGXNFT1TJKX7

The air shimmered around them as Aurora stepped through the ancient oak standing stones. Her skin prickled with gooseflesh despite the mild evening temperature. Behind her, Nyx flowed like liquid shadow, their form rippling at the edges as they passed through the threshold. "It feels... different in here," Aurora whispered, her breath visible in sudden, unexpected cold. The Heartstone Pendant against her chest pulsed with warmth, a stark contrast to the chill air. "The Veil is thin here," Nyx's voice was barely audible, like wind through autumn leaves. "Time and space fold differently within the Grove." Aurora rubbed the crescent scar on her left wrist—an old nervous habit—as she surveyed what lay before them. The standing stones had appeared to encircle nothing but ordinary woodland from outside, but now they stood at the edge of a clearing that shouldn't exist within the bounds of Richmond Park. Wildflowers carpeted the ground in impossible profusion—lilacs and snowdrops growing side by side, summer blooms tangled with spring bulbs. The colors were too vivid, each petal defined with unnatural clarity. The amber light filtering through the canopy above seemed to come from no particular source, as if the air itself were luminous. "Does it always look like this?" Aurora asked, crouching to examine a cluster of bluebells that chimed faintly when her fingers brushed their petals. "No two visits are ever quite the same," Nyx replied, their violet eyes scanning the perimeter. "The Grove reshapes itself according to Isolde's whims... or perhaps her visions." As they ventured deeper, Aurora noticed their footfalls made no sound. The earth beneath felt springy yet solid. Nyx, of course, left no mark at all, their shadowy form hovering just above the ground. But Aurora was surprised to see that she, too, made no imprint on the soft loam, as if the forest floor rejected any evidence of her passing. "Like walking on memory foam that immediately springs back," she murmured. The Grove opened further as they progressed, revealing a circular clearing at its heart. Ancient trees formed natural columns around its perimeter, their branches weaving together overhead to create a living cathedral ceiling. Threads of gold and silver light danced between leaves, forming patterns that shifted too quickly to follow. At the center stood a small reflecting pool, its surface perfectly still despite the absence of any visible containment. The water—if it was water—looked more like liquid moonlight. "Careful," Nyx cautioned as Aurora approached the pool. "Look but do not touch. Some reflections show more than merely what stands before them." Aurora knelt beside the pool, the Fae-Forged Blade at her hip suddenly growing colder, its chill penetrating the leather sheath. When she looked into the mirror-like surface, she gasped. Instead of her own reflection, she saw what appeared to be the vineyards of Dymas stretching endlessly under an amber sky. "I can see it," she whispered. "Dymas. Just like in my dreams." "The Grove exists between realms," Nyx explained, keeping a careful distance from the pool. "It touches many places. Many possibilities." A rustle of leaves drew their attention. Neither had heard footsteps, yet suddenly Isolde stood opposite them across the pool. The half-Fae woman's silver hair cascaded around her like a waterfall of moonlight, her pale lavender eyes reflecting the strange ambient glow of the Grove. "The seeker returns with shadow's child," Isolde said, her melodic voice carrying clearly despite its softness. "Both touched by realms beyond, yet neither belonging fully to any." Aurora straightened, fighting the urge to bow. Something about Isolde's presence commanded reverence, though the woman's slight frame and serene expression held no obvious authority. "We need your guidance," Aurora said. "The Heartstone led us here." Isolde smiled, the expression transforming her ageless face into something briefly, startlingly human. "The stone leads nowhere. It merely awakens what already sleeps within." She circled the pool with unhurried grace, leaving no trace of her passage through the wildflowers. "What you seek is not knowledge but confirmation." Frustration flashed across Aurora's face. "I don't have time for riddles, Isolde." "Time?" The half-Fae laughed softly. "There is nothing but time in this place. We could speak for what seems hours to you, and you might return to find mere seconds have passed. Or days." She stopped before Aurora. "Or you might return to find everything changed." Nyx drifted closer, their shadowy form solidifying slightly. "The winter solstice approaches. The Veil weakens." "Indeed," Isolde said. "The barrier thins, and what was separated may once again touch." She reached out, hovering her fingertips just above the surface of Aurora's pendant without making contact. "This bauble from Belphegor's realm warms not from proximity to portals but from resonance with your own nature." Aurora's bright blue eyes widened. "What do you mean, my nature?" Instead of answering directly, Isolde turned and gestured toward a section of the Grove they hadn't yet explored. The undergrowth parted like curtains, revealing a narrow path winding between twin rows of luminescent mushrooms. "Come. There is something you must see before the moon reaches its zenith." They followed her down the glowing path. The mushrooms pulsed in synchronization with Aurora's footfalls, creating ripples of blue-white light that spread outward through the Grove. Overhead, the canopy grew denser, blocking out whatever sky might have existed above, yet the path remained perfectly illuminated. Aurora felt a strange vertigo as they walked. The path seemed to descend, though she could swear they remained level. The sensation of movement without displacement made her stomach lurch. "Your perception adjusts poorly to the Grove's nature," Isolde observed without turning. "Most mortals find it disorienting at first." "I'm not most mortals," Aurora muttered, gripping the hilt of her Fae blade for reassurance. Its coldness against her palm anchored her, providing a fixed point of sensation in the shifting landscape. "No," Isolde agreed. "You are not." The path terminated abruptly at a cliff edge that hadn't been visible until they stood upon it. Below stretched a vast panorama that couldn't possibly exist within Richmond Park—or anywhere on Earth. A twilight landscape of twisted spires and floating islands extended to the horizon, where three moons of different sizes and colors hung impossibly close. "The Fae Realms," Nyx whispered, their form growing more transparent with apparent agitation. "We shouldn't be able to see this so clearly." "The Veil has already begun to fray," Isolde said. She pointed to where the landscape seemed to bleed into another—the amber skies and lush vineyards of Dymas visible through a shimmering distortion. "The realms overlap where the boundaries grow weak." Aurora watched, transfixed, as what appeared to be people moved through the vineyards—tall, elegant figures harvesting fruit that glowed from within. In the distance, enormous structures rose like cathedrals built for giants, their spires piercing the amber sky. "Prince Belphegor prepares a feast," Isolde said, her voice taking on a rhythmic quality. "A celebration of the solstice breach. What was sundered will rejoin, what was hidden will emerge." "This is why the Heartstone was sent to me," Aurora realized aloud. "Someone wants me to find a way through when the Veil falls." Isolde neither confirmed nor denied this, her lavender eyes reflecting the triple moons. "The stone recognizes its kin. It calls to blood that remembers." Aurora's hand unconsciously moved to the crescent scar on her wrist. "What aren't you telling me, Isolde?" The half-Fae woman smiled enigmatically. "I cannot lie, child of two worlds. But truth has many facets, and you are not ready to see all sides yet." The landscape before them suddenly rippled, as if viewed through disturbed water. The moons flickered, and the vision of Dymas intensified. For a moment, Aurora could smell exotic spices and hear distant music drifting up from the realm below. "He sees us," Nyx hissed, pulling back from the edge. "We must go." Isolde remained unperturbed. "Prince Belphegor has always known where to find me. It is you he searches for, Nightwhisper." Nyx's form shuddered at the use of that name. "Then we have overstayed our welcome." "Perhaps," Isolde conceded. She turned to Aurora and, with fluid grace, removed a small vial from within her flowing garments. The container appeared to be carved from a single crystal and contained what looked like liquid starlight. "When you stand at the crossroads between worlds, three drops beneath your tongue will allow you to choose your path." Aurora hesitated before taking the vial. "What does that mean? What choice?" "The only one that matters," Isolde replied. "The choice of who you truly are." The Grove around them began to shift, the path behind them elongating impossibly. The triple moons overhead accelerated their journey across the sky. "The zenith approaches," Isolde said. "You must return before the Grove seals itself for the night. Even I cannot protect you from what walks these paths when darkness falls completely." Without warning, she leaned forward and placed a cool kiss on Aurora's forehead. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through Aurora's body, making the Heartstone Pendant flare with crimson light. "Remember," Isolde whispered against her skin. "The Veil parts for those who already belong to both sides." Before Aurora could ask what this meant, Nyx grasped her arm, their touch surprisingly solid for a being of shadow. "We need to leave. Now." They fled down the path as the mushrooms' glow began to fade. The Grove twisted around them, distances contracting and expanding unpredictably. Trees that had stood meters apart now crowded together, their bark rippling with symbols that burned themselves into Aurora's peripheral vision. The standing stones appeared suddenly before them, much closer than they should have been. Beyond them, Richmond Park looked impossibly mundane and distant, like a painting viewed through frosted glass. "Don't look back," Nyx warned as they pulled Aurora toward the threshold. "The Grove shows its true nature at moonrise." Aurora clutched the crystal vial in one hand and the Fae blade in the other as they burst through the standing stones. The transition felt like pushing through a membrane, a moment of resistance followed by sudden release. They stumbled onto ordinary English soil as the last daylight faded from the sky. Behind them, the standing stones hummed with power, and for just a moment, Aurora thought she could see all three colored moons reflected in their weathered surfaces. Then the vision was gone, leaving only ancient oak and the first stars appearing overhead. The Heartstone Pendant grew cool against her skin, its pulse subsiding to dormancy once more. "Did that really happen?" Aurora asked, her voice sounding too loud and flat in the normal acoustics of the park. Nyx, now fully solidified in the gathering darkness, pointed to the crystal vial still clutched in her hand. "The Seer's gifts are real enough. Though her purpose in giving them is rarely what it seems." Aurora stared back at the standing stones, now just weather-worn monuments in an ordinary park. But she knew what lay beyond—and what was coming with the solstice. "Three drops beneath my tongue," she murmured, "when I stand at the crossroads." The crystal felt cold against her palm—not the supernatural chill of Fae-forged metal, but the simple coldness of night falling over London.