Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNEVHR6VW0APFVY0E3KJGVE

The forest around them seemed to shift and breathe as they moved deeper into Richmond Park. The air grew thick with the scent of honeysuckle and something else — something ancient and faintly metallic, like blood mixed with moonlight. Rory felt a prickle along her skin, the same sensation she'd experienced when holding Isolde's pendant too long. The Heartstone was warm against her chest, pulsing gently as if trying to match the rhythm of her heartbeat. "Stay close," Nyx murmured, their form shifting between shadow and solidity as they moved. "The Grove doesn't like strangers." The trees here were different from the ones they'd passed earlier. These were ancient oaks with bark like weathered stone, their branches twisting into shapes that seemed almost deliberate — faces and symbols carved by time itself. Wildflowers bloomed in impossible colors, petals that shimmered between purple and silver as the light caught them. Rory reached out to touch one, and it dissolved into mist at her fingertips. "Careful," Isolde warned, her silver hair catching the dappled light that filtered through the canopy. "The flora here responds to intent. Curiosity is welcome. Greed is not." They emerged into a clearing where standing stones rose from the earth like silent sentinels. The stones were carved with swirling patterns that seemed to move when Rory wasn't looking directly at them. At the center of the clearing stood a single massive oak, its trunk wider than a car and its branches reaching toward the sky like fingers grasping for stars. Isolde stepped forward, her bare feet making no sound on the mossy ground. "Welcome to the boundary between worlds," she said, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. "The Veil is thin here. You can almost see it, can't you?" Rory squinted, and for a moment she thought she saw it — a faint shimmering in the air, like heat rising from pavement on a summer day, but with colors that didn't exist in the natural world. Violet and silver and something deeper, darker. The Heartstone pulsed faster against her skin. Nyx moved to the base of the great oak, their shadow-form flowing up the bark like ink in water. "The portal is active," they whispered, their voice carrying that strange echo that always accompanied them. "Someone has been here recently." "Impossible," Isolde said sharply. "This grove is hidden even from the Fae. Only those with the Sight can find it, and even then, only if I wish to be found." Rory felt a chill despite the warm afternoon air. She'd learned to trust Isolde's certainty, but something about the way Nyx's violet eyes glowed told her they weren't wrong. Someone had been here. Recently. The clearing began to change around them. The standing stones seemed to lean closer, their carved patterns glowing with an inner light. The wildflowers rose higher, their stems thickening into something more substantial. Rory's breath caught in her throat as she realized the flowers weren't just responding to their presence — they were watching. "We should leave," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "This doesn't feel right." Isolde's expression softened with understanding. "The Grove tests all who enter. It wants to know if you're worthy of its secrets." She turned to face Rory directly, her pale lavender eyes intense. "But you're right to be cautious. The longer we stay, the more the boundaries blur." Nyx was already moving, their form solidifying into something more human as they approached one of the standing stones. They placed a shadowy hand against the carved surface, and the patterns there flared bright. "There's a trace of Fae magic here," they said, their voice tight with concentration. "But mixed with something else. Something darker." Rory stepped closer, the Heartstone burning hot against her skin now. She could feel the pendant pulling her forward, toward the standing stone where Nyx stood. The carved patterns seemed to call to her, whispering secrets in a language she didn't understand but somehow recognized. "Don't—" Isolde started, but Rory was already reaching out. Her fingers brushed the stone, and the world exploded into sensation. Images flooded her mind — a winter solstice ceremony, Fae nobles in glittering armor, a ritual circle drawn in blood, and at the center of it all, a figure in shadow with eyes like dying stars. The vision shifted, showing her the same figure standing in this very clearing, their hand raised in a gesture of power that made the air itself scream. Rory stumbled back, gasping for breath. The Heartstone was searing against her chest, and when she looked down, she saw that the crimson gem was glowing with an intensity that made her wince. The silver chain felt warm, almost alive against her skin. "What did you see?" Nyx asked, their voice urgent. Rory shook her head, trying to clear the remnants of the vision. "A ritual. Something about the solstice. And someone — someone powerful. Someone who shouldn't be here." Isolde moved to stand beside her, her expression grave. "The winter solstice is approaching. The Veil will be at its weakest then." She glanced at the Heartstone, her eyes widening slightly. "That pendant — where did you get it?" Rory's hand went to the pendant instinctively. "I don't know. It was left for me. With a note that just said 'protect this.'" "The Heartstone of Dymas," Isolde breathed. "Prince Belphegor's own sigil. If what you've seen is true, then someone is planning to use it to tear open the Veil completely." The clearing seemed to darken around them, though the sun was still high in the sky. The wildflowers wilted and then rebloomed in shades of crimson and black. The standing stones groaned as if awakening from a long slumber. "We need to leave," Nyx said, their form already beginning to dissolve into shadow. "Now." But Rory couldn't move. The Heartstone was pulling her toward the great oak at the center of the clearing, its warmth now a steady, comforting presence. She could feel something there — a presence, ancient and patient, waiting for her. Isolde caught her arm. "Rory, no. The Grove is trying to claim you." But Rory was already walking, drawn forward by a force she couldn't name. The Heartstone led her to the base of the oak, where the roots formed natural steps leading down into darkness. She could see now that the tree wasn't just a tree — it was a gateway, its hollow trunk opening into a space that seemed to exist in multiple dimensions at once. "The portal to Dymas," Isolde whispered behind her. "But it's been sealed for centuries." Rory reached the entrance and paused, looking back at her companions. Nyx was fully shadow now, their violet eyes the only solid point in their form. Isolde stood with her hand outstretched, her expression torn between fear and something like hope. "The solstice is three days away," Rory said, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. "If someone is planning to use the Heartstone to open the Veil, we need to know why. And we need to stop them." She stepped into the darkness of the oak's hollow, the Heartstone blazing like a star against her chest. The last thing she heard before the world folded in on itself was Isolde's voice, soft but clear: "Be careful what you seek, Aurora Carter. Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again."