"Aurora’s boot crunched on something brittle—petals, she realized, though the flora around them didn’t bloom in autumn."
1
"Their shadow form rippled, sharpening into a human silhouette—6’2”, broad-shouldered, face a blur of black where eyes should be, now glowing violet. They stopped short, hand outstretched. Aurora and Isolde paused, too. Ahead, a wall of brambles had erupted from the earth, their thorns glinting with a greenish light. But ten paces back, the brambles lay flat, as if they’d never existed."
2
"“What the hell?” Aurora said. Her voice sounded too loud, even to her own ears. The air here hummed, a low vibration that thrumming in her temples. She touched the Heartstone Pendant at her throat. It pulsed, warm against her skin—not the sharp, urgent thrum it made near Hel portals, but a gentle, steady beat, like a heartbeat. *Not Dymas*, she thought. *Fae-touched Earth*."
3
"“Mortals often do,” Isolde said, but she didn’t sound amused. “Most don’t live long enough to learn the Veil *hears* them.” She stepped through the brambles, and Aurora followed. The air shifted—thicker, as if she’d stepped into a jar. The flowers around them glowed now, their blue centers brighter, turning the grove into a field of starlight. She heard a sound, high and clear, like a glass harmonica, and when she turned, a butterfly with wings of translucent blue fluttered past her ear, leaving a trail of sparkles."
4
"Not you, though.” They stepped beside her, their solid form barely warmer than the night air. “Your pendant—thinks so highly of you."
5
"Aurora’s hand tightened around the pendant. She’d found it in her locker at the Golden Empress, tied with a silver chain, no note. Eva had laughed when she saw it—“Some sugar daddy?”—but Aurora had kept it. *Recognition*, Nyx said. *You*. What did that mean?"
6
"They rounded a cluster of ancient oaks, their trunks gnarled and black, and Aurora stopped. Before them lay a clearing, but not like any she’d ever seen. The grass was a soft, lavender hue, and the trees that ringed the clearing glowed with a light that wasn’t sunlight. In the center, a pool of water mirrored the sky above—*amber*, not blue. “The sky of Dymas,” Isolde said, her voice soft. “Yet we’re still in Hel?”"
7
"Aurora spun. A portal had opened in the air, not far from the standing stones. It was a rift in the Veil, pale and glowing, and from it poured a smell—sweet, cloying, like overripe peaches. The Heartstone pulsed *violently*, hot enough to burn through her shirt."
8
"The portal flared, and a hand—black, scaled, fingers ending in claws—reached through. Aurora fumbled for the Fae-Forged Blade at her waist, its moonsilver edge cold against her palm. Nyx reappeared, solid again, and raised a hand. The shadow creatures that lived in the corners of the grove slithered toward the claw, hissing."
9
"“Help me close it!” Isolde shouted. She raised her hands, and light poured from her lavender eyes. The claw faltered, but a second claw pushed through, followed by a forearm, then a shoulder. Aurora saw a tattoo—three stars, one bleeding black—and her blood ran cold. *Evan’s tattoo*."
10
"Aurora turned. The pool now showed her, but older—35, maybe, with a scar across her cheek, the Heartstone burning at her throat. She was standing in a hall of mirrors, each one showing a different version of her. In one, she was dead, her body drained of blood. In another, she was laughing, with Belphegor at her side. In another—"
11
"Aurora fumbled the Fae Blade free, its edge glowing faintly. The claw let go, and she scrambled back, tripping over a root. Belphegor took a step toward her, and the ground trembled. The standing stones—*the boundary*—were cracking, and the brambles from earlier were now writhing toward the portal, trying to close it. But more shadows poured through, and the Veil itself was fraying, a jagged tear in the air."
12
"Aurora stood, the blade in her hand. Belphegor grinned, and his hand turned into a whip of living shadow, lashing toward her. She ducked, the whip grazing her shoulder, burning like acid. Nyx tackled Belphegor, and the pair fell into the pool, which boiled. Isolde raised her hands, and light filled the clearing, so bright Aurora had to look away. When she opened her eyes, the portal was gone, the brambles had ceased their movement, and the pool was still, showing her reflection—not her, but a version of her with the Heartstone glowing in her chest, the Fae Blade in her hand."
13
"The ground shook again, but not with the steady hum. This time, it was a tremor, short and violent. The standing stones—*the boundary*—shattered, and the grove went dark. Aurora fumbled for her phone, but it had long since died. Her pendant throbbed, warm and insistent."
Target: ≤6% sentences with technical-jargon patterns
analyzedSentences
14
technicalSentenceCount
4
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"The portal flared, and a hand—black, scaled, fingers ending in claws—reached through. Aurora fumbled for the Fae-Forged Blade at her waist, its moonsilver edge …"
1
"The claw reached through, wrapping around Aurora’s ankle. She screamed, pulling back, but it held tight, dragging her toward the portal. Nyx lunged, punching th…"
2
"Aurora fumbled the Fae Blade free, its edge glowing faintly. The claw let go, and she scrambled back, tripping over a root. Belphegor took a step toward her, an…"
3
"Aurora stood, the blade in her hand. Belphegor grinned, and his hand turned into a whip of living shadow, lashing toward her. She ducked, the whip grazing her s…"