Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTQTBFX9QXNY17XT7Y7SX19

Aurora pushed aside a low-hanging bough and stepped between two ancient oaks. Moonlight pooled on moss and wildflowers that never wilted. The Heartstone pulsed against her chest, a faint warmth that felt like warning. She lifted a battered lantern. Its flame trembled when she inhaled. Branches leaned inward as though listening. The stones formed a circle around her. Each slab rose like a soldier in silent guard. Moonlight carved deep shadows at their bases. A distant rustle. Leaves shifted though wind lay still. She called out, voice firm. “I know someone’s here.” Her breath curled into mist. She surveyed the clearing. Wildflowers glowed pale in the lantern’s beam. Petals unfolded like silent hands. She traced her scar, that crescent on her wrist. A childhood memory of fear. Now a faint echo of safety. The Heartstone throbbed, beating against the leather of her jacket. Footsteps—soft, deliberate. Something slid across the fallen leaves at her left. She swiveled. Nothing moved but her own shadow, stretched long and ragged. She let the lantern drop to her side. “You can’t hide.” Her words shivered through the grove. No answer but the pulse in her chest and the low hum of the Heartstone. She clenched her fist around the pendant’s silver chain. A whisper fluttered through the stones, a voice just below hearing. “Aurora.” She froze. The lantern’s flame flared, then dimmed. Darkness hunched at the edge of sight. She took a step forward. The stones leaned back, creaking. She pressed toward the center. Ferns rustled along her path. A figure blinked into existence—tall, slender, clad in shifting shadow. It stood behind a standing stone, half-hidden in bark and lichen. She raised the lantern higher. Light spilled over a face as pale as moonlight, eyes black as spilled ink. She swallowed. “I’m not here for you.” He lifted a hand. Fingers bent like bird talons. He stepped into the glow. Bark crumbled at his feet, revealing knotted wood beneath pale skin. “You came,” he said. His voice dropped like stone into water. No echo. No tremor of breath. “I needed to find the portal,” she said. “The Heartstone led me.” He tilted his head. Night air drifted through his hair. “It leads anywhere,” he said. “Or nowhere at all.” She watched his lips move. She felt her pulse hammer in ears. The lantern’s flame guttered. She flicked it back to life. Behind her, one of the stones shifted. Roots ground against earth. A figure slipped from shadow and pressed near the perimeter, its shape blurred by wildflowers. She lunged, lantern swinging. Flames licked at dark leaves. The figure recoiled beyond reach. She took two hurried steps. Heartstone warmed, then cool. A pulse of light shivered across her palm. “What do you want?” she said. He pointed at the sky. Moonlight gleamed on silver chain and deep crimson gem. “Power,” he said. “Or death.” She ground her teeth. The forest exhaled. Branches sighed. “I need answers,” she said. “No tricks.” He met her gaze. He spread arms. The stones at his back groaned. A circle of moonlit glyphs appeared at the base of each slab, faint runes that thrummed in the dark. She felt something cold wrap around her spine. Her knees stiffened. The grove trembled. A whisper crawled across her ear. “Give it to me.” She whipped around. The second shape pressed close—taller, faceless, body draped in ivy and nightshade. Its voice braided with the wind. No mouth, no eyes. Yet she heard it clear. “Hand over the stone.” Aurora’s breath stumbled. She grounded herself, feet pressed into soft moss. She slipped a hand beneath her jacket, shielded the Heartstone. “I came alone,” she said. “I leave alone.” The first figure laughed. A sound that sucked warmth from the lantern. His laughter spread, echoing in every direction. The stones glowed faint red, as though the Heartstone itself had bled into them. He stepped closer. Her scent must have carried among the flowers because they bowed toward him, petals opening like hungry mouths. A twig snapped behind her. She spun. Nothing. Her lantern wavered. Shadow pooled inside the ring of stones. She glimpsed movement—hair brushing bark, a shoulder arching. Her jaw clenched. She flicked the lantern’s handle. The flame surged. Light hauled fragments of the night into view. A mass of shapes retreated just beyond its edge. She held her ground. “Speak!” she said. He drew nearer. He wore no mask, but something leathery slithered over his shoulders, wrapping around him like smog. He lifted a hand, and the runes on the stones flared blue-white. The air vibrated. The Heartstone flared against her chest. She lunged forward, chains rattling. The stranger recoiled. He hissed. “Fool,” he said. “You cannot contain it.” She jabbed the lantern at him. Firelight struck his face and revealed cracks beneath skin, lines of ember that pulsed with a sick glow. He struck a finger to the sky. The runes pulsed. A low chant built behind her, voices made of leaves and bone. The rustle of petals, the creak of roots. Aurora felt her heart pound. She strained against the tremor. The pendant sang against her ribs. Her breath came in bursts. A circle of blue flame blossomed at her feet. She jumped back. Wildflowers ignited, petals twisting to ash in an instant. Smoke curled, stinging her eyes. She choked out a gasp. The stranger narrowed his eyes. The flame vanished. He stepped across the ash, motionless as carved stone. “What did you do?” she asked. He knelt by the scorched blooms. He pressed a finger into the charred ground. Ash crumbled between his fingers. He stood, black petals trapped in his palm. “This is not your world to command,” he said. He tossed the petals into the wind. They spiralled upward, starlight caught in their edges. They extinguished before they fell to earth again. Aurora steadied herself. Her limbs shook. She pressed her fingers to the Heartstone. It pulsed, ragged like a wounded bird. “How do I control it?” she said. He circled her, each footfall a note in a silent dirge. He leaned close. Her lantern light trembled across his face, deepening the cracks of ember. “Control?” he said. “You think the Heartstone obeys you?” She swallowed. She drew in a breath that burned her lungs. “It’s mine,” she said. He laughed again. A hollow, cracking sound. He raised both hands, palms out. “Then prove it.” Moonlight flared as though caught in a sudden gale. The stones around them heaved. Vines lanced from the earth, twisting toward her. Petals rained down like tears. She dropped to one knee. Her hands shook as she pressed the Heartstone between her palms. Its warmth spread up her arms. A pulse of light burst from the gem, spilling across the mossy floor. Vines recoiled. Stones shuttered circuits of runes in white fire. She clamped her eyes shut. The chant rose in a fierce tide, drowning the night creatures. She held the pendant tighter. Her nails bit into the chain. She opened her eyes. Blue light snapped from the gem’s core. It cut through the shadows, carved a swath through the grove. The stranger recoiled, face bone-white beneath his dark hair. She rose. Lantern nearly forgotten in her other hand. Petals drifted around her boots like falling snow. The vines writhed and retreated into the soil. Runes dimmed. The stones fell silent. She stared at the Heartstone. Its glow faded to a steady red pulse. He stood, cloaked in the hush. He straightened, hair brushing the carved oak. “You’ve stirred the boundary,” he said. Her vision narrowed to him, to the stones, to the lantern flame beneath her thumb. “I came for truth,” she said. He studied her. Raw light from the gem sharpened his features. He wore no expression she recognised. “Truth,” he repeated. “A dangerous quest.” She let the lantern dangle. Flames quivered along its edges. The grove held its breath. She slid the pendant back beneath her jacket. The lantern’s light expanded, bathing her in gold. She stepped toward the nearest stone. Fingers pressed inked runes. They glowed faintly beneath her touch. He murmured something under his breath. A thread of mist uncoiled at his feet. She pulled away. “Show me the portal,” she said. He nodded once. The grove darkened. Moonlight withdrew from the clearing. The stones’ runes spiralled outward, drawing webs of pale light across the grass. Aurora raised the lantern, heart hammering. She didn’t look back as the path revealed itself—a ribbon of glowing glyphs leading beyond the circle of oaks, deeper into the night.