Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRK2BD0EGZC62RYN6G8TNB

The moon hung high, painting Richmond Park with shades of silver and shadow. Aurora Carter tightened her grip on the Heartstone Pendant dangling from her neck, its warmth a whisper against her skin. She'd come here to the Fae Grove for answers, driven by a sense both nagging and insistent. Eva had mentioned it in passing — a place of whispered secrets and hidden truths. But standing there now, beneath the skeletal sprawl of ancient oaks, Aurora couldn’t shake the feeling something was watching. Her footsteps whispered over the carpet of fallen leaves, each one a crisp reminder of her intrusion. She noted the oak standing stones that marked the grove's boundary, gnarled and imposing, as if they've borne witness to centuries of secrets. The whisper of the wind through them sounded almost like voices speaking in soft, lilting tones. She checked her wrist; sure enough, the scar there formed a familiar crescent caught in the pale moon's light. Touching it grounded her, even as the night pressed in. The wildflowers that should have lent a comforting, natural smell to the air were oddly scentless, their vibrant colors pallid in the darkness. Even the air here seemed thicker, more oppressive. Her breath clouded in front of her, merging with the mist that curled around her legs like the tendrils of some half-formed thought. Rory knew she was alone — she'd seen to that. It was deliberate. Yet, the night refused to let her feel it. A twig snapped sharply to her right, rattling her thoughts. She stiffened, turning her head sharply, but saw only shadows swaying in the breeze. Carry on, she urged herself, dragging in a lungful of cold, damp air. Only the wind. Yet her skin prickled with unease. A spectral laughter floated on the air, so faint it could have been another trick of the wind. Aurora paused, angling her head, listening harder, the sound melting into the rustle of leaves overhead. She stifled the temptation to call out. Only silence hummed back, the grove holding its secrets close. Closer now to the heart of the grove, Aurora's heartbeat matched the gentle pulse of the pendant around her neck. Her eyes, by now adjusted to the dim light, picked out something unusual. A flicker of movement low to the ground, gone too quick to grasp but unmistakable. Someone was here. She peered into the shadows, searching for confirmation. “Show yourself,” she whispered between clenched teeth, though her voice faltered before dissipating into the night. Nothing responded but the distant hoot of an owl — or was it an owl? — the very sound of it curling under her skin like a threat. She took a calculated step forward, each footfall a measured invitation for whatever lurked to reveal itself. The mist seemed to thicken, snake-like, as if aware that she was closing in on the grove's secrets. Somewhere to her left, a shuffle, the sound of leaves stirred by an unseen foot. Her sharp blue eyes darted toward the sound, her imagination weaving shapes from darkened shadows. “You’re getting jumpy,” she whispered, her dry laugh swallowed by the night. Keeping on, she forced herself deeper into the grove, drawn by the promise of something she didn't yet understand, her hands curled into fists to ward off the chill seeping into her bones. The standing stones loomed closer, marking a center, a point of resonance she couldn’t deny. Without warning, the pendant burned hot against her chest, a sharp, insistent pulse. She flinched, surprised by the flash of energy. It was a warning, she realized, just a fraction too late. Something shifted behind her, the whisper of cloth against bark unmistakable. “Who’s there?” Rory’s voice, firm now, cut through the air with a new strength. Silence answered once more, the grove holding its breath. Her shoulders tensed, every muscle taut with anticipation. Around her, the shapes in the darkness seemed to close in, each step forward matched by the sound of something retreating just beyond sight. Rory turned in a slow circle, her eyes sweeping the darkness, her every instinct screaming to leave. But the pendant pulsed again, demanding attention. Its glow cut through the shadows, illuminating paths that hadn’t existed an eye-blink before. Her feet moved instinctively, the grove's secrets guiding her deeper into its heart. The pulse of the Heartstone led her to the tallest of the standing stones, its surface etched with sigils long forgotten by time. Rory traced a finger over one, the stone surprisingly warm, as if retaining the heat of a sun that never touched it. Another sound, closer this time — a breath, soft but undeniably human. Her gaze snapped towards it, every sense alight. A silhouette loomed at the edge of her vision, indistinct but undeniably present. Her heart beat a rhythm of warning. “Show yourself,” her voice commanded again, stronger now, fueled by the knowledge that she was right — she was not alone. The figure stood still for a moment longer, just outside the reach of shadow, before merging into the darkness. As if this had been a test, one she didn’t understand but had passed nonetheless. Silence and stillness returned to the grove, pressing down around her once more. Aurora Carter stood her ground, the Heartstone’s glow reflecting in her sharp blue gaze, heart thundering as the wrongness of the night settled heavy around her like a shroud. She could turn back, abandon this chase and return to the safety of the night’s embrace. Yet something in the air, heavy with unseen consequence and promise, compelled her to remain, rooted in place as the clock of the grove ticked onward. Whatever had started this night, it wasn’t over. Not yet. And Rory knew — deep in her bones — that whatever lay at the heart of this darkness would not hide for long.