Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTQZEP84VWPX1GT4H1TXAJD

Aurora stepped beneath the arch of ancient oaks, their gnarled branches clawing the heavy night sky like arthritic fingers. The leaves, unlike in the busy city she’d fled, whispered secrets in a language she couldn’t place. Her boots pressed softly on moss as if the earth itself bore witness to her intrusion. The Fae Grove was nothing like the Richmond Park she’d passed countless times, a hidden pocket folding away from a world too loud and too fast. Her fingers traced the small crescent scar on her left wrist—a dull echo of pain, the only comforting weight in the silence. The pendant at her throat, the Heartstone, thrummed faintly, its deep crimson gem glowing softly under the silver chain. She wished for a tether to reality in this strange place, a reminder that she still held something familiar. The clearing spread wide ahead, wildflowers blooming with an unnatural vibrancy. Their colours sliced through the shadow like small flames. But it was the stillness that unnerved her most. No wind stirred the blooms, not even a breath. The usual night chorus of crickets or owls never found its way here tonight. "Eva said it’d be like this," Aurora murmured, voice barely above a rasp, her breath crystallising in the cold air. "Quiet. Too quiet." She moved forward, each step measured but uneven, as if the ground twisted beneath her feet. She swallowed, tasting something metallic, something thick in the darkness. Her eyes darted, trying to catch the slightest movement. Nothing. Just shadows pooling beneath the standing stones marking the Grove’s edge. A sound broke the silence—just a hurried shuffle, no more than a breath. Rory froze, the word echoing in her mind like a warning. She turned quickly, scanning the perimeter. “Who’s there?” Her voice cracked, sharp and brittle. Nothing answered. No rustle, no reply. Her heart hammered, a drumbeat in her chest. The pendant pulsed warmer, the crimson light deepening. She tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear, sharp blue eyes narrowing. She’d come to the Grove for answers. To find the source of the strange signatures that flickered on her phone’s compass—a failing compass when crossed with GPS, her only hint that this place didn’t quite abide Earth’s rules. Something lay here, something waiting. The night air thickened, pressing down on her lungs. Another sound, closer this time—a soft rustle, like fabric brushing against leaves. She jerked her head toward the left, heart poised on the edge of flight. Out of the corner of her eye, a shadow slipped behind an ancient oak, a figure too quick to catch clearly. No shape, no form, just a fleeting darkness. She blinked, and it was gone. “Show yourself,” she demanded, stepping forward, voice cutting through the stillness. The pendant warmed again, pulse quickening, a silent signal she didn’t fully understand. But it was an anchor she clung to against the rising dread. As she crossed the circle of wildflowers, the air shifted, heavier, as if breathing with her, or perhaps watching. The scent of damp earth mingled with something sweeter, faint and almost intoxicating. A delicate voice, almost a whisper, threaded through the trees. “Rory.” She stilled. The voice—too familiar, too soft, impossible. “Who’s there?” The only response came from the stones—ancient witnesses ringing the clearing, silent but somehow alive. Sweat pricked at her brow despite the chill. She gripped the pendant beneath her jacket, its glow the only certainty. The hours outside would have been mere minutes here. Time felt unraveled, stretched thin, slipping through her fingers. A figure emerged from the shadows, slight and pale, almost blending into the moonlit trees. Aurora’s breath caught; the figure’s eyes shone with a slipping light, half-seen and half-imagined. “You shouldn’t be here,” it breathed, voice like wind through dry leaves. “I need answers,” she said, voice steady despite her racing pulse. “The growing pull I felt. The warmth of this place. Tell me what you know.” The figure’s lips curled, a smile that didn’t reach those glowing eyes. “Answers come at a price,” it said, stepping closer until the wildflowers bowed beneath weightless feet. “Do you understand that, Rory?” She swallowed hard, gripping the pendant tighter. The glow flared, warmth blooming hot in her palm. “I don’t care.” The creature studied her through the moonlight, then vanished like smoke, melting back into the Grove’s breathing shadows. Aurora stood alone, the quiet now a dense presence, filled with unseen watching and unsaid threats. The Grove held its secrets close. And she realized, with a tightening in her chest, that she might not leave with any answers at all.