Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMR7MBBCJXR8526J4AQQZT3

The amber light hit her first—warm as honey, thick as summer—before her feet even touched solid ground. Aurora stumbled forward, her boots sinking into grass that was too green, too vibrant, wrong in a way that made her stomach clench. The Heartstone pendant burned against her collarbone, pulsing heat through the thin fabric of her shirt. She pressed her palm flat against her chest, feeling the rapid drum of her own heartbeat alongside the stone's strange rhythm. "Easy." Nyx's voice barely rose above a whisper, their shadow-form flickering at the edges as they solidified beside her. Their violet eyes swept the landscape, scanning for threats. "The transition affects mortals differently." "Differently how?" Aurora managed, straightening her spine despite the nausea rolling through her in waves. "You could vomit. You could faint." A pause. "You could dissolve into the space between spaces and never re-form." She shot them a look. "You might have mentioned that before we stepped through." "You did not ask." The amber sky stretched endless above them, no sun visible but light everywhere—diffuse and golden, like perpetual late afternoon. No clouds. No stars. Just that strange, honeyed glow that made everything feel slightly unreal, as though she'd stepped into a photograph left too long in the sun. Behind her, Isolde's bare feet made no sound on the grass. Aurora had learned to stop expecting it—the Seer moved through the world like smoke, leaving no trace of her passage. When she turned, she found the Half-Fae standing perfectly still, her silver hair drifting in a breeze Aurora couldn't feel, her pale lavender eyes fixed on something in the distance. "The vines," Isolde said, her voice carrying that melodic quality that made everything sound half-song. "They remember." Aurora followed her gaze. Beyond the clearing where they'd arrived, the landscape rolled into gentle hills covered in vineyards—but these were no ordinary grapes. The vines crawled across trellises of pale stone, their leaves shifting through colors that had no names, their fruit swollen and glistening in clusters of deep purple-black, crimson, and something that wasn't quite gold. The air smelled thick with sweetness, almost cloying, underscored by something darker. Fermentation. Rot. "Where exactly are we?" Aurora asked, though the pendant's heat had already given her the answer. Hel. One of its realms. "Dymas." Nyx moved forward, their form rippling between solid and shadow as they passed beneath the branches of an enormous tree—oak, maybe, but twisted in on itself, bark spiraling in patterns that made her eyes water if she looked too long. "The domain of Gluttony. Prince Belphegor's territory." "I know what it is." She caught up to them, her hand instinctively moving to the Fae blade strapped at her hip. The moonsilver hummed cold against her palm, a counterpoint to the Heartstone's warmth. "I meant—what is this place? These vines, this light—" "A vineyard." Isolde drifted past them both, her white dress trailing through flowers that bent toward her as she passed. "One of many. Dymas provides sustenance for all of Hel. The souls here cook, brew, cultivate. They serve." "And in exchange?" Nyx's laugh was a rustle of dead leaves. "They eat. They drink. They consume until there is nothing left of them but hunger." The path wound between the vineyards, the stones pale and smooth beneath Aurora's boots. She tried to memorize the route—left at the twisted oak, straight past the fountain that ran with something viscous and amber, right where the trellises arched overhead—but the landscape seemed to shift when she wasn't looking. A tree she could have sworn was on her left appeared on her right. A row of fruit-heavy branches stretched longer than physics should allow. "The realm knows you're here." Isolde's voice came from somewhere to Aurora's right, though the Seer hadn't seemed to move. "It tastes new hungers." "I'm not hungry." "Not yet." Isolde's pale eyes caught hers, and for a moment, the pupils seemed to shift, swirling like ink in water. "But you will be. Everyone hungers in Dymas. It is the nature of the place. The question is not whether you will eat—but what you will consume, and what will consume you in turn." Aurora's mouth had gone dry despite the thick, sweet air. She walked faster, her boots clicking against stone that gradually widened into a proper road. The vineyards gave way to orchards—trees heavy with fruits she didn't recognize, some luminous and pulsing with inner light, others dark as bruises and weeping sap that steamed where it hit the ground. Nyx moved beside her, their presence a cool shadow in the eternal amber warmth. "Your pendant," they said quietly. "It grows more agitated." She glanced down. The Heartstone pulsed rapidly now, its crimson glow visible even through her shirt. The warmth had shifted from pleasant to urgent, like a second heartbeat trying to sync with her own. "We're getting closer to something." "Or something is getting closer to you." The road curved, and the trees parted to reveal a structure that stole the breath from Aurora's lungs. It wasn't a palace—not exactly. It rose from the earth like something grown rather than built, walls of pale stone twined with living vines, towers that spiraled impossibly upward, windows of colored glass that caught the amber light and fractured it into a thousand shifting patterns. Tables sprawled across the grounds before it, hundreds of them, laden with dishes that steamed and glistened and smelled of things Aurora couldn't name but suddenly, desperately wanted to taste. People—no, not people, souls—moved among the tables. They wore fine clothes in rich fabrics, their faces flushed with pleasure, their laughter carrying on the warm breeze. But something was wrong with their movements. Too fluid. Too controlled. And when one of them turned toward her, Aurora saw that their eyes were hollow, empty, starving. "Helbound." Nyx's voice was barely audible now. "Contracted souls. They serve the feasts, maintain the grounds, cook the endless meals. Their contracts bind them here until—" "Until what?" "Until the hunger consumes even the contract." Aurora's hand tightened on the Fae blade. The coldness of it grounded her, cut through the thick sweetness clogging her thoughts. She realized with sudden clarity that she'd been breathing deeper, her body craving the rich scents that drifted from the feast tables. Her stomach, empty since breakfast, clenched with a want that bordered on pain. Don't, she told herself. Don't eat anything. Don't drink anything. Don't— "A traveler!" The voice came from her left, bright and musical and warm. Aurora spun, her blade half-drawn, and found herself face-to-face with a woman who seemed carved from honey and gold. Her skin gleamed in the amber light, her eyes the deep purple of wine, her smile wide and welcoming. She wore a dress of deep burgundy, and when she moved, the fabric rippled like liquid. "You've come to the Feast of Endless Summer." The woman's gaze traveled over Aurora, assessing, hungry in a way that had nothing to do with food. "How wonderful. We so rarely receive living guests. Please—sit. Eat. You must be famished after your journey." Behind her, Isolde made a sound that might have been warning. Nyx had gone perfectly still, their shadow-form flickering with tension. But Aurora kept her hand on her blade and met the woman's smile with a level look of her own. "I'll stand, thanks. And I ate before I got here." The woman's smile didn't falter. If anything, it widened. "Oh, darling." She gestured toward the endless tables, the steaming dishes, the wine that flowed in crystal rivers. "In Dymas, everyone is always hungry. The only question is how long you can resist before you give in." The Heartstone burned against Aurora's chest. The Fae blade froze against her palm. And somewhere in the distance, through the amber light and the impossible vineyards, a bell began to toll—deep and slow, counting out seconds that felt like hours. She thought, not for the first time, that she should have stayed in Cardiff. Should have endured law school. Should have done anything other than follow her best friend to London and into a world she'd never believed existed. But here she was. And the feast was just beginning.