Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPFJ1ERADMZA6W7CP500M8

Rory pushed aside the thick curtain of vines and stepped into the Grove. The moment she crossed the ancient oak standing stones that marked its boundary, a sensation washed over her like a cool breath — everything seemed sharper, more alive. She glanced back just to reassure herself that Richmond Park was still there, but the dense foliage swallowed the path behind her. She was alone now, deep in Isolde's Grove, but she clung to a sense of purpose. In one hand, she clutched the Heartstone Pendant, a deep crimson relic on a silver chain that gleamed faintly even in the half-light. In the other, she held a small flashlight, though its beam did little to cut through the otherworldly gloom. Wildflowers carpeted the ground in a riot of colors, despite the late hour. If the stories Yu-Fei told her were true, this was where the artifact’s powers would become clear. Eva had said to trust no one, yet Yu-Fei insisted Rory must come tonight, alone. The air was dense, saturated with the scents of earth and damp bark. Leaves rustled where there was no wind, like whispers exchanged behind her back. Rory couldn't shake the feeling that the Grove knew she was intruding. Her breath came quick and shallow as she picked her way through the clusters of wildflowers that grew in defiance of the seasons. Minutes passed, or perhaps hours. Time played tricks in the Fae Grove. She leaned against the gnarled trunk of an oak tree, letting her nerves settle. But then she heard it — a low hum, almost imperceptible, but constant. It vibrated through the roots to her feet, a frequency just below hearing. She checked the Heartstone, which now glowed slightly, pulsing as if inflamed by the ambient magic. She let it dangle in front of her, its warmth noticeable even through the chill creeping into her bones. "Get a grip," she whispered to herself, her breath puffing out in small clouds. "Eva's waited long enough." Night deepened. She reminded herself that Yu-Fei described this place as both a sanctuary and a trap. It resided between worlds, bending rules, as Rory now suspected, more out of whim than respect for natural laws. A twig snapped somewhere to her left, followed by a rustle like footsteps through dead leaves. She swung the flashlight around, the beam landing on nothing but empty underbrush. Nerves frayed, she moved forward. The low hum grew louder, muxculating with new sounds — distant laughter, perhaps a child's, or the soft rustle of fabric. The light played tricks on her, shadows morphing into shapes that vanished when looked at directly. She knew she had to focus, to clear her mind. She replayed the steps in her head. Enter the Grove, reach the heart of the circle, and use the Pendant. Simplicity itself, but simplicity never accounted for the treachery of unfamiliar places. The path tightened, forcing her to squeeze between two trees whose branches formed an arch. As she crossed it, the feeling of being watched intensified. She could swear she saw movement in the corner of her eye, but every time she turned her head, the Grove revealed nothing. Her pulse quickened, her breath harsher than before. You’re not losing it, she told herself. They’re just trying to scare you. With determination, she pressed on. The hum now carried a rhythm, almost musical, and she realized it emanated from beneath, as if the ground itself was alive, stirring. Rory clutched the Heartstone tighter, feeling its pulse match her own increasingly frantic heartbeat. Off to the right, a flicker of light caught her eye. She turned, but there was nothing there, only the gloom and underbrush. Then to her left, a soft chuckle echoed through the grove, turning her spine cold. She steeled herself and trudged further, reaching a small clearing at the center. Here, the low hum was a throbbing heartbeat, resonating through her bones. In the middle of the clearing stood a circular arrangement of tree stumps, each carved with ancient runes. Rory recognized the symbols from Yu-Fei's stories, inscriptions of protection and power. She stepped into the circle, her anxiety peaking as if some hidden crescendo was about to be reached. She rummaged through her jacket pocket and produced a small piece of parchment, an incantation written in a language she only partially understood. Placing the Heartstone in the center stump, she began to read. Her voice was shaky but grew firmer as she continued. The pendant’s glow turned from a faint flicker to a steady, intense light. Then everything went silent — the hum, the chuckles, even her own breath. The air thickened, pressing in on her, as if the Grove itself held its breath. Rory's heart pounded in her ears, blood rushing in a dizzying cadence. She tried to focus on her incantation, but the words faltered on her tongue. A laugh, high and sinister, erupted from the shadows, shattering the silence. Rory whirled around, flashlight raised, but all she saw were the thick shadows beyond the stones. The laughter grew louder, spreading out like ripples in water. She took a step back, her foot bumping into the stump where the Heartstone lay glowing with an almost unbearable brightness. Her ankle caught on a root, sending her sprawling backward. She pressed her scarred wrist against the ground to steady herself, but the texture felt wrong—smooth and warm, like flesh. She pulled away in horror, scrambling to her feet. When she looked at her hand, she saw smears of dark liquid, glistening in the Heartstone's eerie light. Panic surged through her, and she grabbed the pendant, its warmth searing her skin. She had to finish the ritual. She had to close whatever door had been opened. She recited the final lines, her voice breaking and tears streaming down her face. The laughter halted abruptly, replaced by a deafening silence that seemed to stretch into eternity. For a heartbeat, everything froze. Then a force like a coil releasing pushed her to the ground. The Heartstone’s glow intensified, bathing the clearing in its crimson light. Rory felt an almost electric charge in the air, the sensation of a vast energy funneling through her, as if the Grove itself was exhaling. Suddenly, it was over. The oppressive weight lifted, and the Grove fell into a stillness so profound it was as if nothing had ever moved at all. Rory staggered to her feet, feeling an overwhelming urge to flee. She grabbed the Heartstone, now cool to the touch, slipped it back around her neck, and ran. As she made her way back, the forest seemed to part for her, the path clearer than it had ever been. Breathless and trembling, she burst through the curtain of vines and collapsed just beyond the standing stones. She lay there, chest heaving, the weight of the ordeal pressing on her mind. She had entered the Grove for answers, and though she was leaving with more questions, she sensed that she had at least survived its test. Looking back one last time, she saw the standing stones loom silently, guardians of the mystery she had partially touched but never fully grasped. She would come back someday, but not tonight. As Rory got to her feet and started the long walk back to her flat above Silas' bar, she felt the Heartstone's pulsing warmth against her chest, a reminder of both what she had faced and what still awaited her.