Circular Gallifreyan Novels & Stories

“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

Only endless black water under a starless sky, and Dacia. She’s not the calm, crowned queen I’m used to. Tonight she is terrifying: eight feet tall, armor of living blood, hair moving like liquid obsidian, eyes twin dying galaxies. The 10 pieces I’ve collected orbit her like planets afraid to fall. Dacia (voice that vibrates in my bones): *It is time, child. No more games. There are no more pretty treasures hidden in caves and mirrors. They were destroyed. Long ago. By my own hand, when I saw what the Circle would do with them.*

“Do not break the circle.” The current convulsed. A long pale shape uncoiled beneath the surface, its outline distorted by the ward but unmistakable. It was longer than three carriages, serpentine, its head crested with what looked like shards of bone. As it passed under a rift of mist, one enormous eye opened — black rimmed with silver, staring at them with a kind of ancient sadness. Caleb stumbled back. “Nope,” he said hoarsely. “Nope, nope, nope.”

Cullen nodded. Aislinn stopped and looked contemplative. She was trying to think if there was anything else she knew that Cullen might find helpful to know. Not to mention if she told him everything right now then she'd be able to say honestly that she didn't have any more information. "Um, I've heard him use the word druid. Between that and him calling the compound the Circle and the research I did when I had that luxury I was able to draw conclusions and make connections about that. But it's not like the original druids in Europe from 500BC kept records or books so that I could figure out what he was thinking he was. But I could pretty much guess he wasn't the Winston Churchill kind of dru

God-markings. My blood ran cold. “It was hidden behind a false wall,” Cassius continued. “We wouldn’t have found it if Cardan hadn’t ordered the entire place torn apart stone by stone.” Harley leaned forward. “What does it say?” Cassius’s jaw tightened. “We’re still translating, but we recognize some of it. It’s old. Very old. It references… the Primordials.” My heart stopped. “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “That’s impossible. They were sealed away. All of them—”

And as I move toward him, he takes his eyes and heads to the ground in a low bow. I began to walk into another hallway with him behind me; the one that held my subjects. I hear the fast thud of Augustine's heartbeat, I also hear their heartbeats as well, and I can tell how many they are in the room ahead. My senses kick in. I twitch my nose and my golden eyes flare up in the dark hallway; I detest the smell of Aarde, it is the smell of the Karbouter, also known as the Goblin. I smell it first before the whiff of the Werewolves and vampires runs up my nostrils.

My eyes squint, my body moving closer as I notice a gold circle at the position of her heart. Against my better judgement, and knowing the walls are laced with wolfsbane, I press it. Nothing…. until I hear movement of stone floor tiles behind me, the ground opening up and some kind of rock lifting out. It was like something out of a neolithic time period…similar to the large stones humans used to bury their dead during the stone age. It was angled at 45 degrees; metal large hoops poorly drilled into the sides….as words littered the body of the stone. Words that I do not understand…they do not even look