A Forgotten Shrine Novels & Stories

The grandfather clock in the grand hallway of the Silvercrest packhouse struck midnight, its heavy, rhythmic ticks echoing like a countdown through the silent room. Evelyn Vance sat perfectly still on the edge of the leather armchair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The silver band on her left ring finger felt exceptionally heavy tonight, cold against her skin. Three years. For exactly one thousand and ninety-five days, she had worn that ring, and for those exact same days, she had been a ghost in her own home.

she breathed, trying to console him, but she didn’t have the words. As the others came up to the hill top, they paused in the same shock and horror. Jordan’s eyes dropped, welling with tears, and he grabbed his wife and held her tightly as he silently wept. Ignatius was speechless, his eyes wide with astonishment at the godless sight of an above ground cemetery without any stones. Justice and Kypher kept their eyes fixed on the remnants of the city, and she saw the anger burning in their fiery gaze. The messengers from Asrymn removed their hats and held them, their heads bowed in a woeful reverence while the others stayed in saddened silence. “Reminds me of the raids,” Vanguard quietly noted

The Forgotten Water was originally the exclusive holy water of the Forgotten Valley. The Forgotten Valley was originally a hidden organization. A few years ago, by chance, Debra was taken to the Forgotten Valley. She was forced to take the water and forget everything. Later, when Darryl knew the truth, he ordered the Elysium Gate to destroy the Forgotten Valley. When the Forgotten Valley was destroyed, several disciples escaped to Westrington and were found by the Five Poison Sect. In this way, the formula of the Forgotten Water was also passed to the Five Poison Sect.

--- A Forgotten Path The journey began at dusk. Lena, Cassian, Mira, Dorian, and Idris rode out under the dying light, cloaks pulled tight against the chill. They rode toward the Forgotten Path—a place that had once been swallowed by the Rift now left untouched in the wake of its collapse. It was the only place the Remnant could have hidden. The only place left to search. Mira rode beside Lena, her expression unreadable. “So. We’re going straight into the place where reality is already broken.”

The sense of being watched intensified. By late afternoon, they reached the first marker. It was a stone, ancient and weathered, carved with symbols that made Elara’s skin prickle with recognition. The same symbols from the ravine, from the tower, from her visions. Maren stopped before it, her expression reverent. “The boundary stone. Beyond this point, we enter the Forgotten Lands.” “What makes them forgotten?” Dane asked. “The packs who lived here,” Maren replied. “They were erased from history deliberately. Their names were removed from the records. Their territories were declared forbidden.”

I continued, “but it wasn’t Amara. It was something else. Older. Like a title.” Kael’s brows furrowed. “Do you remember it?” I nodded once. “Ashirah.” He stepped back slowly. “That name hasn’t been spoken in a thousand years.” “I know.” We left the temple before dawn, cloaked, silent. Only Victor knew we were gone. Cyrus had vanished, but I felt the pull of him through the sigil—like a string tugging behind my ribs, drawing me deeper into forgotten woods no longer on any map. By midday, we stood before a ruin buried in ivy and snow. A shrine carved from bones and obsidian. Blood symbols ran along the walls in languages I couldn’t read—but understood.

She put on a cold face and a professional smile. Liam was secretly observing Jacyn's reaction. Did he just see her being jealous just now? But what he saw next made him drop his countenance. There was a hint of coldness in her eyes. He just couldn't fathom her anymore. What will he do for her to remember him? He had done everything already but it seemed that she really had no memories of him. He was really forgotten… "We're here, Young Master." Jawn spoke, waking him from his trance.

His Forgotten Luna Season Two: Chapter Eight *The next day* The people of Mountain moon Pack were all curious to know what had happened to their Alpha especially the Elders who had been wanting to contact him but his Beta will always chase them away saying that their Alpha wasn't strong enough to come outside and attend to everyone. After the mating ritual party they didn't hear from him and neither did they know if he had found his mate because that was the last day the Elders of the village had given to him to found his mate since he's most likely to be cursed by the moon goddess.

In her grief and love, Autumn decided to build a shrine in Luma's memory. Beneath the gnarled branches of an ancient willow that swayed like a dancer behind Mirabella Estate, Autumn knelt on the damp earth, straining against the weight of stones as she gathered them, her palms raw and bloodied from the effort. One by one, she chiseled intricate soul sigils into their surface—each marking a symbol of remembrance, protection, and the hope of return. The stones wove together into a cairn that resonated softly with magic, fragile yet unwavering in its strength.

“It’s more than memory. It’s anchor. It’s where it was first denied. The original breach—sealed with blood and silence.” They were here to unearth a secret. And maybe, if they were lucky, a weapon. --- The shrine was broken in three places: where the old offerings had been stolen, where a salt-flood had swallowed the west wing, and where something beneath had clawed upward. Maya and Sefina knelt beside the largest split in the foundation. The floorboards had warped into strange angles—scratched with circular marks. Jonas stood back, hand on the only working flare, ready to light it at the first unnatural twitch.