AI The crisp winter air nipped at Aurora's cheeks as she trudged through the snow, following the trail of footprints that led deeper into Richmond Park. Nyx glided silently beside her, a dark smudge against the hazy grey of early dawn. Isolde brought up the rear, leaving no imprint on the ground, her pale hair shimmering like silk under her cloak.
Rory couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that they were being watched. She hugged her cloak tighter around herself. Was it nerves about seeking a prophecies from the unpredictable seer? Or something more?
As they followed the path past the thawing pond, a particular oak tree caught Rory's eye. Its knotted trunk and twisted branches seemed to form a face in the misty gloom . She blinked and it was gone. Nyx glanced over, shadows swirling around them. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Rory answered quickly, letting out a shaky laugh. "Just... shadows and imagination playing tricks."
Isolde suddenly held up a slender hand, halting their progress. Her lilac eyes glowed faintly as she turned in a slow circle, scanning the area. "We have entered the boundary of Faerie. You must tread carefully now."
Nyx took on a more humanoid shape and took a step closer to Rory. Here, beneath the shelter of the gnarled oak canopy, the footprints faded. In their place, a winding path of glowing mushrooms and luminescent flowers illuminated their way, a trail inviting them in, deeper into the alien beauty.
"This is... otherworldly ," Rory breathed, wonder momentarily overriding her unease. She crouched down to examine the mushrooms, their caps softly fracturing the light, leaving star-like patterns on her skin. She brushed a finger against one and it released a puff of iridescent spores.
Across the path, a flash of white caught her eye. A dramatic stallion, ornately caparisoned in silver embroidery, pawed at the ground, his breath creating ethereal clouds in the chilly air. But when Rory looked closer, she realised the animal had no substance, just wisps and smoke creating an equine shape. She could hear its imperceptible snorts of impatience above the heightening wind rush in the boughs above.
"By the Aether, what is this place?" Nyx breathed. "The intersection of multiple realms, perhaps? Faerie, Hel, Earth..." They turned to Isolde . "This is your domain?"
Isolde merely inclined her head, a smile that hinted at unsolved secrets playing about her lips as she continued forward. "Come. I can only hold the Veil open for so long."
They pressed on, the path leading to a grove of ancient oaks, their leaves shimmering gold and copper and blood-red. A pool of shimmering silver water lay at the center of the grove, surrounded by enormous toadstools, their caps as wide astraditional picnic tables. Pristine snow sulphured the ground here, an anomoly. It was like stepping into a childhood fairy tale.
Are you sure we're alone? Rory sent to Nyx through their bond, not trusting herself to speak aloud. The shadows suddenly seemed to have knowing eyes.
A flicker of amusement crossed Nyx's face at Rory's question. Only you and Isolde, the mental voice replied. I checked. This whole little pocket realm is...defenceless. Isolde's wards are not designed for protection.
Isolde turned then, sensing their sentiments. "You are safe here," she said, and Rory felt a sudden certainty that was more than just words. Isolde could feel their unease, comprehend their thoughts and emotions beneath the surface.
Swallowing dryly, Rory followed her into the clearing, noting the way the shadows seemed to recoil into themselves, as if frightened. Or at least wary. Rory could relate.
Nyx took full humanoid form once more, their body flickering with the effort of holding the physical shape. They poked at one of the toadstools tentatively with their staff, then bent to sniff the air around it. "Persephone's blooms. Interesting."
Isolde smiled as she crossed to a mossy rock half-submerged in the shimmering pool. Leaning down, she skimmed a palmful of water over the stone's rough surface. As she did, symbols began to appear in series of glowing runes across the rock surface. They pulsed and shifted, creating images and landscapes, and mouths fell open all around.
Rory took an involuntary step backward, bumping into a tree so large its girth could have encompassed a house foundation. Its leaves were obsidian, and when she brushed against them, they rustled like steel wool. It was so ethereally otherworldly that Rory shuddered, feeling distinctly outside of her element as she stared at the pulsing rune in shock. Dimly, she could hear the hum of portent in the air, as if the very air itself was murmuring with melodious voices.
Nyx took wide-legged stance, holding their staff in front of them. A ripple of power rose off them, the runes reacting to the electricity in the air. "Care to explain what's happening?" Nyx demanded, tension threading through their voice .
A heavy stillness filled the air, and Rory glanced nervously between her companions. The witch, the shade, and the seer united for this ominous portend. She swallowed, and for the first time, found herself regretting her impulsiveness. Her sister has vanished, caught in the tangled web of a prophecy. It was her only option, but even so, the responsibility and gravity of this moment pressed down on her.
Isolde's eyes conjunct on Nyx, then shifted to Rory. "This will be revealed to you in time. You are not ready." She waved a hand and the runes faded. "Your quest will be fraught with peril and sacrifice."
The silence stretched. Rory moistened her lips. She was acutely aware of the weight of the Fae-forged blade at her hip, the burnished gold of the Heartstone around her neck. Yang-Sun's warning.
Isolde cocked her head, watching Rory with detachment. "What troubles you, small witch?"
Rory blinked. She hadn't realised she had been silent for so long. "I’m...okay," Rory said, recovering. "Just, er, a lot to process."
Isolde circled closer, her lilac eyes searching. "The heart of the matter is this," she said abruptly, placing a gentle hand on Rory's shoulder. "You must act now, for time is short. The veil between realms is already strained. The longer you delay, the greater the chance that...uncontrolled forces may spill through."
A chill ran down Rory's spine. She felt Nyx's gaze on her, heavy with concern. "What do you mean?" Rory asked, though she was almost afraid of the answer.
Isolde turned away, drifting back to the fluted toadstools at the pool's edge. The rings of scritch and scratch of tiny claws echoed through the clearing as squirrels darted between shadowed regions. "Some doors weaken the barrier further after being opened. You must seal them again to maintain the balance."
Springing to her feet, Rory shook off her lethargy. "Then we'll just have to find the others faster," she said, determination crisp in her voice. She looked between them. "Any suggestions?"
Nyx slanted a sideways glance at Isolde, who was frowning . "Perhaps you should call back your companions andsee this through together before the damage worsens."
Rory sighed, her heart heavy. The responsibility of holding back the decaying barrier felt more immense than she was willing to admit. She glanced over at Nyx, shadows swirling around them, their face set. "You meant Kal'thule right?"
"I did," the shadow demon confirmed, eyes flickering between various worlds . "He'll be close. Demons are most active in this realm."
Rory shifted in place, various outcomes swirling through her mind. Returning to the mortal realm, then fetching more allies seemed the wise course, even though time was running out. She met Isolde's violet-adorned eyes, saw the silent confirmation in their orbs.
"I don't know if it will make a different," Rory murmured. "Let's get back to the mortal realm and find Silas, then."
"That seems wiser," Nyx said.Ticking wheels of thought were obvious in their tone.
As quick as it had appeared, the world skipped and wavered , coruscating lights dancing between veils once more. Rory blinked, lost in their progression-through toadstools and entangled paths and shadows thickening within the glade.
Warmth and manic energy sparkled between Rory and Isolde, ink-black and deep spring verdant.
Quicker than it had appeared, the grove's temporal kaleidoscope skipped, time dancing through shadows, and waters reflecting worlds.
Blinking, Rory was standing on the stone-cut patio of the night-ravaged church, the cold San Gabriel winds numbing her cheeks. Isolde's golden blossomed doorway had faded into the shadows just beyond the lit hedge, leaving them alone in the empty jungle yard.
Isolde had disappeared through a vein of light that refracted through the canopy. No other sign of her crossing remained. The getting-left-side flowers blossomed.
Rory took a step forward into a shadowed alley, shadows clinging to the walls that seemed to reach out for her, and found herself in shadowy paisey'd grove that was still finding her left hand . Nora shadowed paused to absorb its energy.
When she looked back at Rory, Isolde smiled, and time flared, tearing the veil between two toadstools apart, flinging open mole polishing an iridescent portal at their feet..
"Witch."_spoken softly ,the tone quiet yet charged , rmpusd in veins of aura and pressed charges.
Rory blinked, surprised to find herself still standing in the winsome groved. She squinted toward Nyx's indistinct form, not entirely certain she had heard them correctly in the eery tranquility of the moment, still gearing her spirits for a journey into hardship.
As the words sounded, the glen's susurrus fell silent. And Nyx's eyes closed, focusing their energy as the shadows congealed, then Riveted for an instant, before bubbling up in reply.
Rory furrowed her brow, finally catching up to the Portuguese shade's foreign word choice. "What do you mean molecule?"
She glanced side to side, then around to Isolde, pulsing between their mutual gaze.
Rory blinked, looking around at the clearing full of shadows. She noted how the old oak At the center of the clearing had cast long shadows across the icy clearing, forming strange shapes. A cold wind sailed across the clearing.
Well, where are they? she sent, trying to remain calm. There was energy in her contestants, but also a mins sunk that made her toes curl in her boots.
A pinprick of deep violet swirled surrounded him, then burst. Swinging herself up over the seat, Rory landed heavily and hard on a crunching branch that glided into a waking space heavy with torchlight. A sense of urgency gripped her as Nyx's shade corporealized in structures of magic and shadow, knotting the glen with aggressive calm.
Where in the seven hells is Kafka? Rory asked, voice pleasant, trying to sound unruffled, even with an edge of threat, in the tone lurking behind the questions, holding ardently steady on the shade-periistent shadows.
Reaching for the magic in the back of her mind, she called it out, pulsing it around the grove. Nothing happened. No magic emerged, no evidence of disturbance at all.
I don't know, Nyx murmured scowling in a dour expression. "Fuck," she swore under her breath and started walking. "We need to get out of here-"
Suddenly, a warbling horn sounded. It was distant but immediately recognizable. A chilling sensation prickled Rory's neck as she pictured a dozen froounted hounds and the hunter who command them. She whirled around. The clamor of the hunt filled the air.
ARAK'THUNN abdominal w retched. Grotesque shapes composed of ever ray and pulsating shadow and sketchily formed solidity tembchard her rising again.
"There" she said emphatically, pointing at Isolde. "We need to help her wraith her mind."
Nealy all element had been warped to the instant that was the grove, the incantation spun frailing about the clearing, bonding in shadows and trailing noodle shapes in their wake with a downtrod wind.
But the portal was still there. It shifted, skeletal, the portal spun by arcane workings, but her not there are nitny shrouded ones, and forceful, exploratory machingoughts.
Holding the shapes of shadows rigid for a moment longer before closing the rifts.
She clasped her taloned hands in theirs and pushed the thoughts of flame bonds into their spinning forehead.
Stars bounced off of versions otherworldly shadowera vagina gloss, sloshing like ambrosia, sending out fantasmagoric lattices that pinned her to her new layers, and suddenly the small form of a raven bubbled to the surface of Funktion's gaze in the seemingly endless dark .
Now, beside Rory, sweeping the most likely approach of an invisible force that bisected it could help the world beneath the main trunk, and spread Lewis-Knight's power like a net.
"Okay," Rory said, her words firing in such close quarters . "I will go back to the academy. You take..."
A net of black shadows and ends of enhancement.
Let's see what else we have. Lights from the western end of the grove strobe erratically, funnelled through If one orb faced street lamp.
Sameer the word across the room and stife to a halt, an icy dome that wrapped around them, ready to traverse a quick movement.
The grove around the talisman, replaying the same chant in the motionlessness that created it, warming the t earnings of time, halfing against the ever-prevalent versiolong, thick, sticky, heavier than mud, and as black as a long to medium, newly twisted squid watched in act on the tip of their unseen horn.
She caught the glint of scales and quelling compulsion to panic, Rory drawed she held them steady and in pooled on the tips of her ears as she faced Agent in the distance. Maybe the hunter had passed the human form of the shadowy figure.
Blinking, the realisation hit a molecular resonation. They had other options, options that weakened the. Shadows spread between the trees as if called, gathering around Rory's feet and rising.
The witch and fae Priestess had grown more comfortable with each other during their travels, a sim complimentary familiarity in the shifting shadows, but they sensed something was wrong.
The grove was eerily tranquil, almost as if it was holding a sweetheart and patiently waiting for Dominion. But she knew something was wrong, and she looked to Rory for answers.