A Forgotten Shrine Novels & Stories

"The shrine has been used recently. And not for blessing." Pushing through a final wall of thick ferns, we emerged into a clearing. The sight stole my breath. A wide, swift-moving river cut through the rocks, cascading over a shallow ford. On the far bank, nestled against a cliff face veiled in moss and vines, was the shrine. It wasn't a building, but a circle of standing stones, each taller than Adrien. They were blackened by time and the elements, their surfaces etched with runes so ancient they were almost worn smooth.

Outside the world had changed. Black Hollow’s forest lay in ruin, trees twisted into grotesque forms, the ground cracked and glowed with veins of red fire, And rising from the earth, the Forgotten. Thousands of bodies crawling upward, skin ash-gray, eyes glowing with the moon’s fire. Faces he once knew friends, family, ancient priests. All climbing, reaching. John’s mind reeled. The moment the crown split, the seal undone, the Forgotten answered the call. Not just the shadows from old sacrifice, they were resurrected, ascending.

With that, the voice was gone, leaving behind a deafening silence. The Forgotten Mountains. The name was ancient, whispered in legends as a place that no one returned from. If the deity was there, we had no choice but to go. Draven’s eyes narrowed as he turned to me. "We don’t have much time." I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Asher’s cryptic warning pressing down on me. "No, we don’t." Asher had vanished, leaving us with only cryptic clues and the lingering sense that the true game had just begun.

“That’s probably why the temple’s presence has stayed hidden for so long. Everyone forgot it… or forced themselves to.” I looked at him, the weight of our mission starting to press down again. “And that’s where we’re going?” “That’s exactly where we’re going,” he confirmed, straightening up. “A place abandoned, almost erased from the memory of the people around your city.” “It’s also hidden in plain sight. It’s fitting. The Temple of the Forgotten, hiding among ruins,” he added. Damien and I began our journey toward the Temple of the Forgotten, the soles of our boots pressing into the worn dirt path that stretched endlessly ahead.

I looked ahead. There. Half concealed by ivy and ancient roots. A structure. Small. Forgotten. Waiting. The mark pulsed again. Once. Twice. Three times. "Right here," I murmured. None of them questioned my ability to locate the entrance. By then, they all understood the difference. We pushed through the vines together. The entrance revealed itself slowly. A shrine. Much smaller than the others we'd encountered. And far older. Most of the structure was buried in the side of the hill after centuries had passed. Moss covered most of its surfaces which made it look a little irritating.

A feeling of reverence washed over them as they observed the remnants of a forgotten era. "What is this place?" Zane asked. "It's a mystical shrine, it is old and empty," Claire answered. "Dakota do you remember the shrine of the lost spirit, we encountered the army of goblins there and the lost souls help us find our way out..." Claire said. Dakota nodded his head.

But her fingers curled around it like a promise made in smoke. VAIRO FAMILY ARCHIVES TIME: UNKNOWN A new shrine was being built. Not for Morrow. But for the one who vanished. Old Vairo loyalists had begun whispering in back rooms. About a ghost. A queen who left no record. A woman who didn’t need a name to be feared. The Forgotten Daughter. And somewhere… someone just lit the first candle in her name. LOCATION: UNDERCITY – GLASSHOUSE SAFEHOUSE TIME: 6:44 a.m. The city wasn’t awake yet.

He sent them first to feed on the chaos, while he circled from the high eastern cliffs like a vulture too arrogant to swoop until the prey stopped breathing. I moved to the shrine and knelt, the weight of legacy and war and child pressing into my spine, into my ribs. My fingers danced over the carved stone altar, etched with the stories of she-wolves long gone, the goddesses of fire and fang, mothers and monsters both. They heard me now. I could feel their eyes. I closed mine and whispered, "Let the moon witness what men forget." The earth cracked beneath the shrine, a low moan escaping the rocks as ancient bones stirred beneath. The tunnel wasn't meant for breathers, it had once sealed in t

Chapter 4: The Forgotten Prophecy Emerging from the Shadow Realm, Elara and Aric found themselves standing on the edge of a vast expanse, where the forest gave way to rolling plains dotted with ancient ruins. "This is the Forgotten Plains," Aric explained, his voice tinged with sorrow. "Once, it was a land of great beauty and prosperity. But now, it lies in ruin, a testament to the folly of those who sought to wield powers beyond their understanding." As they explored the desolate landscape, they came upon crumbling statues and weathered tablets, each one bearing cryptic symbols and faded inscriptions. Elara felt a stirring of recognition deep within her soul, as if the stones themselves wer

“She’s not running—she’s becoming.” Now, at the edge of the summit, Serena found the Shrine. Or what was left of it. It stood in ruin—once a great temple carved from blackstone and pyrite, now buried under snow and decay. But the flame was still burning. A single brazier in the center glowed faintly with blue fire. The Forgotten Flame. Inside the Shrine Serena stepped beneath the broken archway, every breath visible in the frozen air. As she neared the flame, something shifted—the temperature dropped. The magic thickened.