Circular Gallifreyan Novels & Stories

Cyril’s body lay motionless near the altar, but his last spell lingered like poison in the air and then the Hollow rose. It wasn’t a beast, not really, but it was ancient and vast, with eyes that looked like they remembered every sin ever committed under a moon. Its form rippled, half-wolf, half-human, and sometimes something worse. When it spoke, the sound came from everywhere at once: the air, the ground and my pulse.

Only two Veilshards escaped. Siran heard the spiralquake before it reached them. Dust fell from the crumbled walls of the Circle of Binding’s outer edge. Wind roared past, carrying not sand or ash but pages. Hundreds. Thousands. Torn from libraries the bloom no longer needed. Each one bore a glyph. Some were letters. Others were full-body diagrams. All written in styles no one had ever seen before. The bloom was no longer recording memory. It was dumpin g it. “What is it doing?” Ari gasped, catching a fluttering page in her hand. It was covered in spiral-script.

The dead center of the bared circle was two wide, tall, and elaborately decorated stone pillars that were curved into each other. I slowly walked towards the pillars trying to get a better look at them. I wished it were daytime so I could see it better. However, it looked like a mix of Celtic runes and Draygonian. I reached out and touched the carvings feeling a slight zap, like an electrical discharge, shot through my fingertips. With a yelp, I jumped back and instinctively shoved my tingling fingers into my mouth, then shook them, trying to wake them back up. "Powerful, aren't they?" a dark voice rumbled out.

' 'I thought it was quite comforting. They'd expected to leave on their horses. The long road back central of the north. Instead, Caelthrien led them to a circular chamber with a raised dais at its center, and at the base of that— Another Silver Spiral stood. Identical to the one beneath Vaelen's court. Same runes. Same impossible structure. "You have one of these," Saeris said. Caelthrien was already moving, and her usual stillness had been replaced by something with edges. "He's not holding as well as I told you. You have less time."

said asked. Kaela turned the disk over in her hand, her voice barely above a whisper. “I saw this in the restricted records once before. It predates Frostfang. Predates Lunari. This wasn’t a bond meant for love or war. It’s... a call. A lock. And we’re the key.” I stood there and my gaze didn’t waver not once. “Then what are we opening?” taking it back. My fingers grazed her palm, and it felt like a shock wave to my heart.

I reach for it. The moment my fingertips brush the etching, the air shifts. The hall exhales. The door creaks open like it’s been waiting centuries just for me and I step through. Inside is a circular chamber with no windows and one massive stone wall covered in symbols and spells written in the old tongue. A flameless torch crackles to life in the center of the room. My eyes catch on one spell, etched in crimson. “Veniah sa'renth ilthrae.”

said Little Fairy softly. They looked to the pagoda the moment she said such. The top of the pagoda indeed had a few huge golden words carved on it. However, these words were from an ancient language that none of these fairies recognized. “Darryl, can you understand them?” Wendy asked. At that moment, the six fairies had subconsciously considered Darryl as someone omnipotent inwardly. Darryl looked at the writings and smiled. These words were seal s, an ancient writing style which not many people could read at the present.

The same shapes we’d seen in the circle, in Evelyn’s relics. “It’s a chamber,” he whispered. “Part of the Hollow I was told about.” I peered closer. The carvings glowed faintly in the torchlight. Spiral shapes, runes, faces half-hidden. Roots crawling over them. Like the trees outside wanted in. Daniel knelt. “This is binding script. It’s older than the Order. Before Crowe’s father’s era. Somewhere between blood and bone.” Sarah touched one rune gently. Her finger trembled. “If someone turned ritual energy into architecture… they used this to channel power.”

“Before the castle. Before all of this.” “From where?” I shook my head. “You wouldn’t believe me.” “Try me.” I looked down at the letter again. The ink had faded in some places, but the mark was still clear a small crescent sliced through the centre by a single line. It wasn’t a royal crest or a common seal. It was older. “It’s the sign of the Shadow Circle,” I said quietly. His expression changed instantly. “That’s a myth.” “No.” I met his eyes. “It’s not.”

“A ghost that refuses to stay dead.” Sable’s pulse tripped. “Months?” Lyra’s control slipped for half a heartbeat—just enough for Sable to see the truth behind it. Lyra had been hearing Caelan—something like him—since the coffin closed. Lyra set the circlet on Sable’s wrist. The moment it touched skin, the entire room flared white. Not torchlight. Bond-light. Sable gasped as cold and heat slammed through her veins at once, her vision fracturing into sharp flashes: