Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTR54NDEAGEX8VQVK0H2261

In the heart of Soho, The Raven's Nest hummed with the usual evening crowd. The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and the low murmur of conversations. The distinctive green neon sign cast an eerie glow on the cobblestone street outside, beckoning patrons in from the chill of the London night. Aurora Carter, known to most as Rory, pushed open the heavy wooden door, a bell jingling softly overhead. She stepped inside, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The bar was a labyrinth of old maps and black-and-white photographs, each one telling a story of a time long past. She scanned the room, her gaze landing on a familiar face hunched over a glass of amber liquid at the far end of the bar. Silas Blackwood, or Si as she used to call him, looked up as she approached. His hazel eyes, once sharp and piercing, now held a certain weariness. His hair, once a fiery auburn, was now streaked with grey, and a neatly trimmed beard framed his face. A silver signet ring glinted on his right hand, a remnant of his past life. He still carried himself with quiet authority, but there was a stiffness in his movements, a slight limp in his left leg that Rory didn't remember. "Silas," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It was a statement, not a question. She didn't need to ask if it was him. Time might have weathered him, but the essence of the man was still there, etched into the lines of his face. He looked at her, surprise flickering across his features. "Rory," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I heard you were back in London." She nodded, sliding onto the stool next to him. "Been here a few months now. You look... different." Silas chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "A few years can do that to a man. You, on the other hand, haven't changed a bit. Still the same old Rory." Rory smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. She looked around the bar, her gaze landing on a photograph of two young people, arms slung around each other's shoulders. "You still running this place, then?" "Yep," Silas replied, following her gaze. "Best cover story I could think of. Keeps me close to the action, so to speak." Rory raised an eyebrow. "Action? In a bar?" Silas grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You'd be surprised what goes on in here, Rory. But enough about me. What brings you back to London? Last I heard, you were in Cardiff, making a name for yourself in law." Rory's smile faded. She looked down at her hands, tracing the small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist. "That was a long time ago, Si. A lot's changed since then." Silas studied her for a moment, then signaled the bartender for another round. "Want to talk about it?" Rory took a deep breath, her mind flashing back to the past. "I left Cardiff after... after things with Evan got ugly. Eva convinced me to come to London, start fresh. I've been working for Yu-Fei, delivering food. It's not much, but it pays the bills." Silas nodded, his expression unreadable. "And your law degree?" Rory shrugged. "It's on hold. I needed a break, you know? From everything." Silas was silent for a moment, then he reached out, placing a hand over hers. "I'm sorry, Rory. I know things haven't been easy for you." Rory looked at him, her bright blue eyes filled with unshed tears. "Neither have they been for you, Si. I heard about Prague. I'm sorry." Silas withdrew his hand, taking a sip of his drink. "It was a long time ago. I've made my peace with it." Rory nodded, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he held himself rigid. She knew better than to push the subject. Instead, she changed the topic. "You still living above the bar?" Silas nodded. "It's convenient. Close to work, you know?" Rory smiled, a genuine one this time. "You always did love your convenience, Si." Silas chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Some things never change, I guess." They fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The bar around them buzzed with life, but they were isolated in their own little world, two old friends catching up on lost time. After a while, Rory broke the silence. "You know, I've been thinking. About us. About how we used to be." Silas looked at her, his expression guarded. "What about us?" Rory took a deep breath. "We were so young, so full of dreams. We thought we could change the world." Silas smiled, a sad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "We were foolish, Rory. We thought we were invincible." Rory nodded. "We were. But now... now we're just two people, trying to make sense of the mess we've made of our lives." Silas was silent for a moment, then he reached out, his hand covering hers again. "We're still here, Rory. Still fighting. That's something, isn't it?" Rory looked at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "Is it, Si? Is it really?" Silas didn't answer, just squeezed her hand tightly. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air between them, a testament to the weight of time and the regret that came with it. They finished their drinks in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, each wondering what the future held for them. But for now, they were content to be together, two old friends who had found each other again in the heart of Soho.