AI Aurora stepped through the iron gate that marked the edge of Richmond Park, the moon a thin sickle behind the ancient oaks. The night air smelled of damp earth and something sweet, like honeyed rot. She pulled the silver chain of the Heartstone Pendant from her pocket, the crimson stone humming faintly against her palm.
“It’s not supposed to be this quiet,” she muttered, her breath forming clouds that vanished as quickly as the sound of a distant owl. The pendant’s glow pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, a soft ember in the darkness.
She moved toward the circle of standing stones, each slab covered in moss that whispered when the wind brushed them. The stones seemed to lean inward, as if listening . The wildflowers that grew in the clearing glowed faintly, their petals a perpetual bloom that defied the season.
“Show me what you hide,” she whispered, holding the pendant out. The stone’s inner light flared, casting a warm halo on the stone’s surface. A low, almost musical hum rose from the ground, reverberating through the soles of her boots.
A rustle came from the edge of the clearing, a sound that should have been a leaf falling but carried a metallic rasp. Aurora turned, eyes narrowing, but saw only a silhouette of a fern swaying in a breeze she could not feel.
“Who’s there?” she asked, voice steady despite the tremor that traveled through her throat. No answer, only the faint echo of her own words returning from the stone circle.
She stepped closer to the central stone, its surface etched with runes that glowed faintly in the pendant’s light. The air grew thicker, as if the night itself pressed against her skin. Her left wrist, where the crescent scar sat, tingled with a cold that spider the warmth of the stone.
“Did you bring me here?” she said, half to the stone, half to the darkness beyond. The silence answered with a soft sigh, like a breath exhaled from a sleeping beast.
A flicker of movement caught her eye—a shape darting between the trunks, barely perceptible. She squinted, heart thudding against her ribs. The shape vanished, leaving only a lingering scent of ozone.
She pressed the pendant harder against her chest, the crimson stone thumping in time with the unseen pulse . “I’m not leaving until I find the portal,” she declared, voice low, laced with resolve . The stone’s glow steadied, casting longer shadows that seemed to crawl toward her .
A low chuckle rippled through the grove, not from any creature she could see. It sounded like wind through cracked glass, like a child’s giggle turned sour. Aurora’s eyes darted, scanning the darkness for a source.
“The night is full of ears,” she said, her words cutting through the tension . Her hand brushed the scar on her wrist, feeling the faint scar of the accident that had left it. She clenched her fist, nails digging into the skin.
A sudden gust surged through the clearing, though the sky was still, the stars obscured by a thin veil of mist. The wildflowers shivered, their petals trembling as if bracing for a storm . The stones vibrated , a low resonance that seemed to echo from the earth’s core.
“Stop it,” she urged, voice steadier than she felt. The pendant’s glow flared brighter, casting a ruby hue across the stones. Shadows elongated, forming shapes that resembled twisted limbs reaching toward her.
A whisper rose, barely audible, a chorus of voices speaking a language she could not decipher. The words slipped through her mind like cold water through a cracked pipe. She pressed her palm to the stone, feeling its ancient power surge through her.
“Enough,” she said, and the whisper died, leaving a hollow silence that pressed against her ears. The pendant’s pulse slowed, its light dimming to a soft ember.
She turned away from the stones, intending to leave, when she heard a soft we, like a child’s laugh, coming from behind a thicket of brambles. She spun, eyes scanning for a source, but the darkness offered no answer.
“Do you think I’d come all this way for a joke?” she called, voice echoing off the stone walls . The laughter ceased, replaced by a faint rustling that grew louder, as if dozens of tiny feet were scurrying across the ground.
She took a step forward, the grass underfoot muffling her movements. The pendant’s glow pulsed once more, a heartbeat that seemed to sync with the unseen presence . “What do you want?” she asked, her tone firm, though her shoulders trembled .
A cold hand brushed her cheek, invisible yet unmistakable. The sensation was like a feather dipped in ice, gliding across her skin. She flinched, eyes widening.
“Show yourself,” she demanded, voice cracking the stillness . The pendant flared, casting a crimson arc that illuminated a figure standing just beyond the stones—a silhouette of a woman, hair flowing like ink, eyes reflecting the pendant’s light.
The figure did not speak. Instead, she lifted a hand, palm open, and a single wildflower hovered in the air, its petals unfurling in slow motion. The flower’s scent was intoxicating, sweet and metallic, filling Aurora’s nostrils with a perfume that made her mind swirl.
“Why are you here?” Aurora asked, stepping closer, the stone’s cold surface pressing against her back.
The figure’s face remained hidden, but the hollow in her chest seemed to echo a sorrow that resonated with Aurora’s own. The flower fell, landing on Aurora’s palm, its petals warm as if freshly plucked.
“A gift,” the figure whispered, the word a syllable that drifted on the wind . “Or a warning.”
Aurora’s breath hitched, the pendant’s glow dimming as the flower’s warmth seeped into her skin. She felt a tug at the edge of her mind, a pull toward something beyond the stones, a portal that seemed to pulse with a promise of answers .
“Will I ever leave?” she asked, voice barely a whisper .
The figure tilted her head, the motion causing the shadows to shift, forming a vortex of darkness at the base of the central stone. The vortex swirled, a silent maelstrom that drew in the faint glow of the pendant.
“You chose this,” the figure said, her voice now a chorus of rustling leaves and distant bells. “There is no turning back.”
Aurora’s heart hammered, the scar on her wrist throbbing as if reminded of past pain. She clenched the pendant tighter, feeling its warmth surge against the cold that seeped from the vortex.
“I’m not afraid,” she declared, though the words tasted like ash . “I’ll find my way out.”
The figure’s silhouette dissolved into a spray of luminescent spores that drifted toward the stones, each spore a tiny ember that hovered before fading. The vortex widened, a yawning gap that seemed to swallow the surrounding night .
Aurora stood at the threshold, the pendant’s glow a dim ember against the encroaching darkness. She felt the weight of the wildflower in her hand, its petals now wilted, as if time had compressed within its bloom.
“The time is different here,” she said aloud, recalling the old stories about the grove. “An hour could be days outside.”
A low, resonant chime rang out, the sound of a bell struck from within the earth. The stones vibrated , a tremor that traveled up through Aurora’s boots to her bones.
She stepped forward, the ground shifting beneath her feet, the wildflowers bending as if bowing . The vortex pulsed , a rhythm that matched the pendant’s faint heartbeat.
“Hold on,” she whispered to herself, her eyes fixed on the dark mouth of the portal. “Don’t let the darkness take you.”
A sudden gust slammed the clearing, a gale that lifted the wildflowers into a vortex of color and light. The pendant’s glow surged, a crimson flare that illuminated the stone circle in a brief, blinding flash.
When the light faded, Aurora found herself standing alone, the stones silent, the wildflowers scattered like confetti on the grass. The pendant hung heavy around her neck, its glow now a steady ember.
She turned, expecting to see the figure, but only the empty night stared back, the moon a thin sliver. A faint rustle rose from the bushes, a sound that could have been a fox or something else entirely.
“Did I make a mistake?” she asked, voice barely audible . The wind answered with a sigh that seemed to carry a distant laugh .
She took a step toward the gate, the path illuminated only by the faint glow of her pendant. The night stretched ahead, a dark blanket that held secrets she could not yet name.
A sudden chill brushed her neck, and the pendant’s glow dimmed further, as if the darkness was feeding on its light. Aurora’s breath fogged in the cold air, her eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement.
“Who’s watching?” she called, the words hanging in the night like a challenge .
Silence answered, then a soft thump from somewhere beyond the trees, a sound that seemed to come from a heart beating in the earth itself .
Aurora tightened her grip on the pendant, the scar on her wrist tingling anew. She felt the pull of the portal, the distortion of time that the grove whispered about, and the weight of a promise she could not yet fulfill.
She moved forward, each step a decision, each breath a thin thread in the night’s tapestry . The darkness pressed close, the wind humming a tune that seemed both ancient and unfamiliar.
The night held its breath, and Aurora stepped into the unknown, the Heartstone Pendant a faint ember against the black.