Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPDGFA1TY6GT9M1GA56NDW

The moon hung low over Richmond Park, casting a silvery glow that danced across the ancient oak standing stones marking the boundary of the Fae Grove. Aurora Carter, known to her friends as Rory, stood at the edge of the clearing, her breath visible in the crisp night air. She clutched the Heartstone Pendant, its deep crimson gemstone pulsing faintly against her palm, a subtle warmth that seemed to seep into her skin. The silver chain dangled between her fingers, catching the moonlight like a spider’s web. Rory had come to the Grove at the behest of a whisper, a half-remembered dream that tugged at the edges of her consciousness. The pendant had been left on her doorstep, wrapped in a scrap of velvet, with no note or explanation. It was the kind of mystery that Rory, with her quick mind and penchant for puzzles, couldn’t resist. But now, standing alone in the clearing, she felt a prickle of unease. The Grove was a place out of time, a pocket between worlds where wildflowers bloomed in defiance of the season. The air was thick with the scent of earth and something sweeter, a fragrance that clung to the back of her throat. Rory took a cautious step forward, her boots crunching softly on the frost-kissed grass. The sound seemed to echo, unnaturally loud in the stillness. She paused, listening. The night was alive with the rustle of leaves, the distant call of an owl. But beneath it all, there was something else—a low hum, almost imperceptible, like the murmur of a distant crowd. Rory turned slowly, scanning the shadows that pooled between the trees. The Grove was empty, but the feeling of being watched was undeniable, a weight pressing against her skin. Rory shook her head, trying to dispel the sensation. She was here for a reason, she reminded herself. The pendant had led her to this place, and she needed to understand why. She took another step, then another, moving deeper into the clearing. The standing stones loomed around her, their surfaces etched with patterns that seemed to shift and change in the moonlight. As she walked, the hum grew louder, resolving into a melody that tugged at her memory. It was a song she had heard before, in dreams and half-remembered moments, a lullaby that spoke of distant places and forgotten promises. Rory’s heart quickened, a mix of fear and anticipation. She reached out, her fingers brushing the rough bark of one of the stones. The surface was warm, almost alive, and she pulled back with a start. The pendant pulsed in her hand, a steady thrum that matched the rhythm of her heart. Rory closed her eyes, focusing on the warmth, the glow that seemed to seep into her bones. She could feel the Grove around her, the ancient power that thrummed beneath the earth, the whisper of leaves in the wind. It was a place of magic, of secrets and shadows, and she was not alone. A rustle in the underbrush made her freeze, her eyes snapping open. The shadows shifted, and for a moment, she thought she saw a figure standing at the edge of the clearing, watching her with eyes that glinted in the darkness. But when she blinked, the figure was gone, leaving only the whisper of leaves in its wake. Rory’s pulse raced, a cold sweat breaking out along her spine. She took a step back, her gaze darting from shadow to shadow. The feeling of wrongness was growing, a creeping dread that coiled in her stomach. She was being hunted, she realized, the thought as clear and sharp as the night air. She turned, ready to flee, but the Grove seemed to shift around her, the path she had taken disappearing into the shadows. Panic flared, but she forced it down, drawing on the cool-headedness that had seen her through so many tight spots. She needed to think, to find a way out before whatever lurked in the darkness closed in. The pendant was warm against her skin, a steady pulse that seemed to guide her. Rory took a deep breath, centering herself, and began to move, her steps careful and deliberate. The melody was louder now, a siren song that pulled at her senses, but she resisted, focusing instead on the path ahead. The Grove was a maze of shadows and light, the trees closing in around her as she moved. The hum was all around her, a living thing that thrummed in her bones. Rory’s breath came in shallow gasps, her heart a drumbeat in her ears. She could feel the presence behind her, a shadow that moved with her, matching her step for step. She stumbled, her foot catching on a root, and went down hard, the impact jarring her bones. The pendant slipped from her grasp, skittering across the ground. Rory scrambled after it, her fingers closing around the cool metal just as the shadows surged forward. She rolled onto her back, the pendant clutched to her chest, and stared up at the figure looming over her. It was tall, impossibly so, its form shifting and changing like smoke. Eyes like burning coals stared down at her, and Rory felt a chill that cut to her core. The figure reached out, a hand of shadow and light, and Rory flinched, expecting the worst. But the touch was gentle, a brush of warmth that sent a shiver down her spine. The pendant pulsed in response, a bright flare of light that drove the shadows back. Rory scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding. The figure watched her, its expression unreadable, and she felt a strange sense of recognition, as if she had seen it before, in dreams and half-remembered moments. The melody was a roar in her ears now, a song of power and promise. The figure gestured, a slow, deliberate motion, and Rory understood. The pendant was a key, a guide, and she was meant to follow. She took a step forward, then another, the shadows parting before her. The path was clear now, a ribbon of moonlight that led deeper into the Grove. Rory hesitated, glancing back at the figure. It nodded, a slow, solemn gesture, and she felt a surge of determination. She was not alone, she realized, not truly. The Grove was a place of magic, of secrets and shadows, and she was part of it now. With a deep breath, Rory stepped forward, the pendant a steady pulse against her skin. The shadows closed in behind her, the melody a whisper in the wind, and she walked into the night, the path unfolding before her like a promise.