Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAY522WB2NTQNJRF9BR9P7

Aurora gripped the Fae-forged blade's hilt, its moonsilver chill seeping through her glove into her palm. The small crescent scar on her wrist itched under the leather. Nyx hovered at her shoulder, a humanoid silhouette of writhing shadow, violet eyes flickering like distant storm lights. They crouched behind a bramble-choked ridge in Richmond Park. Dusk bled into the trees. Twisted oaks loomed ahead, bark etched with spirals that pulsed faint green. No birds called. No wind stirred leaves. "Those stones," Aurora whispered, nodding toward the ring. "Eva swore they marked the way." Nyx's form thinned, tendrils probing the air. "Boundaries hum. This one sings." She straightened, boots sinking into damp earth. Heartstone pendant lay heavy against her chest, silent—no warmth, no throb. Whatever rift hid here stayed cold to its Hel-tuned pulse. One step closed the gap. Fingers brushed the nearest oak. Bark yielded like warm wax, then snapped firm. A shiver raced up her arm, electric honey in her veins. The world folded. Air thickened, laced with scents of crushed mint and sun-warmed honey. Grass sprang ankle-high underfoot, blades tipped silver, each quiver releasing sparks that danced upward and fizzled. Aurora blinked. Sky arched above, not bruised twilight but a dome of rippling teal, threaded with gold veins like lightning frozen mid-strike. Flowers carpeted the clearing—blooms the size of fists, petals layered in iridescent sheaths that shifted from cobalt to flame with every breath. One cluster unfurled as she passed, stamens uncoiling like tiny serpents, exhaling chimes that layered into a melody sharp as glass. Nyx solidified beside her, taller now, six-foot-two frame blocking chunks of light. "Solid ground pulls at me. Shadows here cling." Aurora knelt, touched a petal. It parted under her fingertip, revealing a core that pulsed liquid pearl. Warmth bloomed in her chest, not the pendant's heat but something lighter, threading through ribs. "Listen." Distant laughter bubbled, childlike and wild, chased by flutes that wove no tune she knew—notes twisting backward, echoing before the sound struck. She rose, scanned the ring. Eight oaks encircled them, trunks merged at roots into a single mass, branches interlacing overhead into a cage of living filigree. Beyond, paths forked: one dusted white with what looked like crushed bone, another lined with thorns that wept ruby droplets, evaporating mid-fall. "Pick one." Nyx flowed ahead, incorporeal again, vanishing into the thorn path's shade. "Blood calls blood." Aurora followed, blade drawn now, its leaf-shape catching glints from nowhere. Thorns curved away as she neared, parting like courtiers. Droplets plinked onto soil, each splash birthing sprouts that twisted into miniature vines, leaves broad and veined purple. Deeper, the path widened into a glade. Trees here shed bark in sheets that floated upward, defying gravity, stacking into clouds that drifted lazy circles. Fruits dangled from branches—globes striped crimson and gold, skins taut, emitting low purrs like contented cats. She plucked one. Flesh yielded soft, juice bursting sweet-tart across tongue, fizzing like champagne trapped in cells. Vision sharpened; colors deepened, teal sky now etched with fractals. Nyx rematerialized, snatching a fruit. Shadow fingers crushed it, black tendrils drinking the pulp. "Time frays here. Your pulse slows." Aurora checked her watch. Hands blurred, stuck at 6:47. She tapped the face. Nothing. "Feels right to me." A ripple crossed the glade. Grass parted, revealing a stream. Water flowed uphill, surface skinned with lily pads that beat like hearts, each throb sending ripples that climbed the bank. She dipped a hand. Current tugged playful, cool silk wrapping fingers, then warmer, urging her wrist deeper. Nyx's violet gaze fixed upstream. "Eyes watch." Figures danced in the water's sheen—not reflections, but silhouettes prancing on the bed, elongated limbs twirling to silent rhythm. One paused, head cocking, as if scenting her. Aurora yanked back, water droplets clinging, evaporating into steam that smelled of vanilla and ash. "Playthings or traps?" "Both." The bone-dust path tempted now, visible through trees. White powder shifted under unseen feet, forming prints that filled instantly, erased. She veered that way, Nyx a whisper at her heels. Dust coated boots, fine as talc, tingling soles. Each step birthed faint glows, blue motes rising to join the bark-clouds. Unease coiled low. Air pressed closer, breaths shallower. Pendant stirred—a faint twitch, not its usual Hel-warning pulse, but enough to prickle neck hairs. "Getting tight." Nyx solidified, hand—cool smoke—on her shoulder. "Veins tighten. Push." Ahead, the path spilled into a hollow. Standing stones ringed it smaller now, moss-cloaked, humming bass notes that vibrated teeth. Center: a pool, surface mirror-flat, reflecting not sky but stars in daylight swirl. Aurora edged near. Reflection stared back—not her face, but silver-haired woman, lavender eyes piercing, lips curving sly. She recoiled. Pool undisturbed. "Did you—" Nyx leaned over, shadow spilling across surface. Stars warped, violet flares answering. "She sees through." Ripples spread unprompted. Mist rose, coiling into form. Ethereal woman materialized, waist-length silver hair floating untethered, bare feet hovering inches above grass—no prints marred the dust. Pale lavender eyes locked on Aurora. "Seekers cross thorns and bones, yet thirst for deeper draughts. What riddles chase you into my weave?" Aurora tightened grip on blade, its cold grounding her. Isolde. The Seer. Voice wove like smoke, each word bending light. "Eva sent word. Hel stirs. Portals bleed. We need sight." Isolde drifted closer, no step taken. Air sweetened, flowers chiming frantic. "Sight spills free, but chains bind the pour. Touch the heart, or let shadows sip?" Nyx's form bulked, violet glow sharpening. "No games. Truth, seer." Isolde's laugh tinkled, petals shuddering. She extended hand, palm up. A wildflower bloomed there instant, black-centered. "Truth wears masks in groves where hours dance. Follow the upward stream. Find the oak that drinks stars." She dissolved into mist, sucked back to pool. Surface smoothed, stars steady. Aurora scowled at the water. "Cryptic bitch." Nyx pointed upstream, where water defied, climbing a root-woven hill. "She points." They climbed. Uphill flow splashed calves, invigorating, muscles lightening. Trees thinned, revealing orchard: apples hung upside-down from roots protruding skyward, bark inverted. One branch snagged her sleeve. Fruit tumbled free, rolling uphill into grass. She snatched it. Bite crunched—flesh spiced cinnamon fire, vision splitting: glimpses of amber skies, endless tables groaning under roasts. Pendant warmed proper now, crimson glow seeping through shirt. "Hel echo?" Nyx nodded, shadows lengthening despite teal dome. "Veil thins here." Summit crested. Vast hollow yawned, ringed cliffs of crystal veined emerald, waterfalls plummeting upward into mist-veils. Central tree dominated: oak colossal, trunk split into faces—grinning, weeping, blind—branches plunging into earth and sky both. Roots pulsed, drinking from upward streams converging. Fruits clustered thick, skins translucent, innards swirling galaxies. Aurora approached. Faces tracked her, wooden eyes creaking. One mouth parted. "Thirst?" She froze. Voice gravel-deep, wind through hollows. Nyx circled, tendrils probing roots. "Living. Old." "Drink stars, child of iron and law. Or flee the weave's unravel." Blade hummed in her fist, luminescent faint. Cliffs echoed laughter again, flutes twisting sharper. She reached for fruit. Skin split eager, juice thick starlit. One sip, and world tilted—time stretched, seconds balloons inflating. Vines stirred at roots, questing. Nyx yanked her back. "Not yet." Deeper hollow beckoned, paths spiraling into tree's base, shadows thick with whispers. Aurora licked lips, stars dancing on tongue. "In." They plunged toward the maw.