Circular Gallifreyan Novels & Stories

Burn marks at the edges, as if something powerful had exploded from the center. “A ritual circle,” Halric muttered, kneeling to study it. “But old. Ancient. Some of these glyphs… I thought they were banned.” “They were,” I said. “This one here—” I pointed, my fingers trembling. “This is the Rune of Hollowing. It means ‘to empty the vessel.’” Nilo crouched beside me. “Then this one here means ‘spirit inversion.’ And over here—” he pointed to a jagged shape etched in blood-red stone, “’gate.’”

What if Evangeline used him against them? Suddenly, Lucian stopped, his senses alert. "Listen." Aria held her breath, straining to hear. A low, guttural growl echoed through the air, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. "Gargolyles," Lucian said, his voice low. "Ancient creatures, guardians of the Spire. They're fiercely territorial." They prepared for battle, their senses heightened. The gargolyles emerged from the shadows, their bodies a grotesque blend of stone and flesh, their eyes glowing with an eerie green light. They were massive creatures, their wings spanning the width of the narrow path.

“But there's this ancient rumor of it being a Faerie Gate Circle—it's a remnant of a race that dates back before the Elder Vampires.” 'A Faerie Gate Circle?' Sofia repeated incredulously in her voice full of deep doubt. "I am not saying that is what it is," he continued, folding his arms across his body. "I am saying that that is what the legends here and the forbidden texts say. There was a entire historical plaque dedicated to it in the welcoming center. I come here a lot, and I almost forgot about this place until I saw your special power anomaly that night." Contributions Sofia blinked at him and then turned her gaze back to the peculiar circular formation. "This has something to do with

“Aside from the joy of making me smaller.” Lucian didn’t answer immediately. He crossed to the wall and pulled down a roll of linen. When he unwrapped it, I saw a brass disk—green with age—etched with a spiral and a ring of lettering that refused to be English. “Crowe collects patterns,” he said. “A vampiric signature that trips the lines like thunder? He’ll claim it’s an aberration, then he’ll call it his.” “Mark me,” I said flatly.

said Eva. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking, yes. It’s a similar type of spelled cages that caused the ghoul problem in Côtes-des-Neiges cemetery last year, but there is more to them. There is some volatility coming from its binding agent, and it has an elf signature imprinted into it. Elves would be able to tweak with the coating of a spelled cage so that its content could seep out and enter the pores of the person holding it.” “The question becomes, what are they after? If the rogue wolf transporting them was found within Red Crescent pack land… Emma, do you have any corpses buried within your pack land?” said Eva.

From the scorched earth, a series of luminous glyphs ignited ancient runes that traced a circle within circles, sealing the sisters’ fate. The ground trembled. Jaws tightened. Fur bristled. All waited for the final act. Without warning, spectral moonlight congealed near the center of the circle. Then, from memory and legend, a figure emerged: Tall, gaunt, clad in lunar armor etched with runes. His eyes one molten silver, the other deep eclipse scanned the assembled wolves with stern authority. “I am Kaelorian,” he proclaimed in a voice like a storm’s low rumble.

He nodded again, this time looking impressed by my question, then spoke again, "The ring of Lythian and the journal of Lythian are named alike because they are both connected to the ancient civilization of Lythian and hold significant power that can shape the fate of the realm we're in. The connection between the ring and the journal lies in their origins and purpose. Both artifacts were created by the ancient civilization of Lythian. The people of Lythian were known for their wisdom and understanding of the supernatural forces that governed their world. As I've explained earlier, the journal of Lythian was a powerful repository of knowledge that contained ancient secrets, spells, and inform

The gift of the teal talisman. In a time long forgotten, in the mystical realm of Serathia, there existed a fabled necklace known as the Teal Talisman. Its origin lay shrouded in the annals of history, a tale woven in darkness and mystery. As the legend goes, the Teal Talisman was created by a powerful vampire sorceress named Sylara, whose enchantments were said to be unparalleled. The necklace was forged from rare gemstones imbued with ancient arcane spells, granting it wondrous magical powers beyond mortal comprehension.

Guilt sat heavy in my chest. "Because of your father," Lyanna corrected sharply. "Don't take blame for defending yourself." The chamber was massive—circular, with stone seats carved into the walls rising up like an amphitheater. Already dozens of supernatural leaders filled the seats. Vampires with their too-pale skin and ancient eyes. Fae with their otherworldly beauty and pointed ears. Witches whose power crackled visibly around them. And werewolves, so many werewolves, their eyes tracking my movement as I entered.

A cold, eerie sensation zinged up my spine. “My room’s not that far from the library. Shouldn’t we be there by now?” I asked, attempting to see beyond Maeve’s wand light. “We would be, yes,” she said. “Except we’re not going to your bedroom. A very special someone wants to see you.” I halted. “What are you talking about? Who?” In response, she faced me and pulled up her sleeve. Maeve murmured an unfamiliar spell as she pointed her wand at her wrist. Before my eyes, black ink appeared in the stylized V and ouroboros—5th Circle’s mark.