Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTYQ2VVNRYS74MDH6XNJSVN

Aurora Carter tightened her jacket against the chill, the Heartstone pendant resting warm against her chest as she stepped into the Fae Grove. The air hummed with a low, almost imperceptible vibration that made her teeth ache. The ancient oak standing stones loomed ahead, their silhouettes jagged and unnaturally still against the moonlit sky. Wildflowers carpeted the ground, their petals unnaturally vibrant even in the dim light, as though they’d been dipped in moonlight itself. She had come here for answers. The pendant had led her, its pulse quickening as she’d approached the Grove. The weight of it against her skin felt like a promise, or maybe a warning. Rory wasn’t sure which anymore. The moment she crossed the boundary marked by the stones, the world shifted. The hum in the air grew louder, denser, pressing against her eardrums like a weight. The Grove seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction, the trees taller and darker than they had been moments ago. She glanced over her shoulder, but the stones were gone. Only a wall of trees greeted her, their trunks twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching like crooked fingers. “Great,” she muttered under her breath, her voice swallowed by the oppressive stillness. “No going back now.” She moved forward, her boots crunching softly against the forest floor. The wildflowers seemed to lean toward her as she passed, their petals brushing against her legs like tiny hands. She ignored them, focusing on the pendant’s warmth. It pulsed rhythmically now, a steady beat that matched her heart. Or was it the other way around? A rustle in the undergrowth made her freeze. Her breath caught in her throat as she scanned the shadows. Nothing moved. The trees stood silent, their branches unmoving in the still air. Rory shook her head, chiding herself. She was imagining things, that was all. The Grove was messing with her head. She pressed on, her pace quickening. The deeper she went, the more the Grove seemed to close in around her. The trees clustered tighter, their trunks pressing together like the walls of a labyrinth. The air grew colder, sharper, biting at her skin. Her breath misted in front of her, though the moonlight remained warm on her skin. She rubbed her arms, her fingers brushing the crescent-shaped scar on her wrist. A childhood accident, her mother had always said. Rory wasn’t so sure anymore. A sound cut through the silence—a low, guttural growl that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Rory spun around, her heart hammering in her chest. The trees loomed around her, their shadows darker and deeper than they had been a moment ago. She strained her eyes, trying to pierce the gloom, but there was nothing there. “Show yourself,” she demanded, her voice steadier than she felt. The words echoed strangely, bouncing off the trees in a way that made them sound distorted, almost alien. The growl came again, closer this time. Rory’s hand instinctively went to the pendant, her fingers curling around it. Its warmth surged, pulsing against her palm in time with her racing heart. She scanned the shadows again, her eyes catching on a flicker of movement at the edge of her vision. She turned sharply, but whatever it was had vanished. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps now, the cold air burning her lungs. She forced herself to move forward, her legs stiff with fear. The pendant’s warmth was her only guide, its pulses growing stronger as she pressed deeper into the Grove. The trees seemed to whisper around her, their leaves rustling in a language she couldn’t understand. She swore she heard her name, whispered just loudly enough to make her skin crawl. “Rory…” She froze, her blood turning to ice. The voice was faint, barely audible, but unmistakably her own. Her head snapped toward the sound, her eyes wide with disbelief. There was nothing there—just shadows and trees and the endless, oppressive dark. “This isn’t real,” she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut. “This isn’t real.” The pendant pulsed violently against her chest, its warmth flaring like a warning. Her eyes snapped open just as something moved in front of her—a figure, tall and shadowed, standing between the trees. Her breath caught in her throat as she took a step back, her heart pounding so loudly she could feel it in her skull. The figure didn’t move. It just stood there, silhouetted against the moonlight, its shape indistinct but unmistakably human. Rory’s hand tightened around the pendant, its warmth grounding her even as her fear threatened to overwhelm her. “Who are you?” she called, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. The figure didn’t respond. It tilted its head slightly, as though studying her, before taking a single step forward. Rory stumbled back, her boots catching on a root. She barely managed to catch herself, her pulse racing as she scrambled to her feet. When she looked up, the figure was gone. She spun around, her breath coming in panicked gasps. The trees seemed to shift around her, their branches twisting and curling as though alive. The whispering grew louder, more insistent, her name repeated over and over in a chorus of voices she didn’t recognize. “Rory… Rory… Rory…” She pressed her hands to her ears, squeezing her eyes shut. The pendant’s warmth surged again, its pulse frantic now, urging her to move. She forced herself to take a step forward, then another, her legs shaking with every step. The whispers grew louder, the shadows darker, until she couldn’t tell which way was forward and which was back. A hand grabbed her shoulder, its grip cold and unyielding. She screamed, whirling around to face whatever had touched her, but there was nothing there. Just the trees, their branches reaching like claws, their shadows twisting and writhing like living things. Her chest tightened, her breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps. The pendant pulsed violently, its warmth searing against her skin. She stumbled forward, her vision blurring as the Grove seemed to close in around her. The whispers were deafening now, the shadows pressing against her from every side. “Enough!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “Leave me alone!” The Grove fell silent. The whispers stopped, the shadows stilled. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her ragged breathing and the steady pulse of the pendant against her chest. She opened her eyes, her vision swimming as the Grove began to fade around her. The trees shifted, their trunks straightening, their branches retreating. The wildflowers wilted, their petals curling inward as though ashamed. The warmth of the pendant spread through her chest, soothing her racing heart. She blinked, and suddenly she was standing in a small clearing, the standing stones just ahead of her. The moon hung low in the sky, its light soft and welcoming. The Grove was silent, peaceful, as though nothing had happened. Rory stared at the stones, her legs trembling beneath her. Her fingers brushed the pendant, its warmth steady now, reassuring. She glanced over her shoulder at the peaceful Grove, her mind racing with questions she couldn’t answer. “What the hell was that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The pendant pulsed once, softly, as though in response. She took a deep breath, her hands shaking as she pushed her hair out of her face. Whatever had happened in the Grove, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t ready for the answers she’d been seeking. Not yet.