Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTQVMN4J71A9B37YJDGQDP7

Aurora Carter pushed through the heavy door of The Raven's Nest, a beacon of light from the green neon sign outside spilling into the dimly lit interior. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the change in lighting as she scanned the room. Her eyes roamed over the worn leather booths and weathered tables, drinking in the familiar sights and sounds of the bar she'd come to know so well since moving to London. She made her way towards an empty stool at the far end of the bar, carefully avoiding the grasping hands of a tipsy patron who was clearly a little too eager for some late-night companionship. She slid onto the seat, her bright blue eyes meeting the gaze of the bartender on the other side of the polished mahogany. His neatly trimmed beard, matching his grey-streaked auburn hair, twitched upwards in recognition and he gave her a small nod. "Evening, Aurora," Silas said, his deep voice warm and familiar. "The usual?" She nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. "Please, Silas." He set to work, his deft hands making quick work of preparing her go-to martini. As she waited, Aurora found her gaze drawn to the myriad of old maps and black-and-white photographs that adorned the walls, chronicling the many decades Silas had seen in his time from MI6 agent to seasoned barkeep. Her drink appeared before her, condensation already beading on the cool glass. She reached for it, her fingers brushing over the small crescent-shaped scar on her wrist as she did. The mark, a remnant of a childhood accident, was a constant reminder of her past—a past she couldn't shake, no matter how hard she tried. Aurora took a sip of her martini, savoring the cool burn of the alcohol as it slid smoothly down her throat. She closed her eyes, letting her mind wander for just a moment. That was when she heard it. A voice, deep and rich, one that she'd know anywhere. One that sent an electric shock racing down her spine. "Well, if it isn't Aurora 'Rory' Carter." Her eyes snapped open. She whirled around on her stool to find herself face to face with a ghost from her past. "Malphora," she breathed, the name feeling foreign and familiar all at once. He looked different than she remembered. His once neatly styled blond hair had grown unruly and his sharp jaw was hidden beneath a thick beard. But his eyes, bright green and shimmering with mischief, were exactly the same. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he chuckled, sliding onto the stool next to her. "What's it been, three, four years?" "Try five," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. She watched as Silas approached, his limp more pronounced than usual as he neared them. "What brings you back to London?" "Oh, you know, just blowing in with the breeze. You know me, Rory, I can never stay in one place too long." She did know that. It was part of why they'd parted ways in the first place. Aurora couldn't bring herself to match his wanderlust, her roots too deeply entrenched in the life she'd built for herself in the city. "So, how've you been?" Malphora asked, signaling to Silas for a drink of his own. "Still working for that law firm?" "I'm not, actually," Aurora said, shaking her head. "I left about a year ago. I'm working part-time at a restaurant now." Malphora raised an eyebrow. "Really? I never thought I'd see the day Miss By-the-Books traded in her pencil skirts for an apron." Aurora bristled at his words, the nickname he'd so affectionately given her years ago now feeling like a barb. "Things change, Mal. People change." Malphora held up his hands in mock surrender. "Easy there, tiger. I wasn't trying to offend you." She sighed, running a hand through her straight, shoulder-length black hair. "I know. I'm just…tired." "Tired of what, the rat race? Because I could've told you years ago that busting your ass at that soul-sucking firm wasn't going to make you happy." Aurora fixed him with a pointed stare. "And I suppose gallivanting around the globe, never staying in one place long enough to put down roots is the key to happiness?" Malphora shrugged. "It works for me." "Yeah, well, maybe it doesn't work for everyone." They sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them thick and heavy. Aurora took another sip of her martini, scarcely tasting it this time. "You ever think about it?" Malphora asked suddenly, his voice low. "About what could've been?" Aurora's breath caught in her chest. "Every day," she whispered, her bright blue eyes meeting his green ones. "I think about it every damn day." Malphora's gaze softened. He reached out, his hand coming to rest on top of hers. "Same here, babe. Same here." They sat like that, lost in the weight of the years between them until Silas returned with a drink for Malphora. He slid it across the bar, his hazel eyes darting between the two of them. "On the house," he said gruffly, a knowing look on his face. "Consider it a little blast from the past." Aurora offered him a grateful smile, murmuring her thanks as she pulled her hand from beneath Malphora's. They fell into easy conversation after that, reminiscing about days gone by and dreams left unfulfilled. The weight of all those unspoken regrets hung heavy between them, a reminder of the time they'd lost.