Circular Gallifreyan Novels & Stories

Her tantrum wasn’t surprising since she was close to Cassandra and single-handedly managed to embarass herself to society. “Round Two will begin, this time it will be alittle different. If you will Prince Thalion,” she gestured for him to continue to explain the context of the round. “In this round, I will be speaking in my mother tongue, and your answers must correlate.” He explained, uncurling his fingers to showcase a glowing white orb hovering over his palm. “The objective is to make this fairy weep tears of Goldust.” My eyes widened, shock shooting through my veins like lightening. “Oh my god, fairies exist.”

The olive-skinned witch sat in a runic circle of violet-incensed candles, chanting steadily, her voice low and resonant, muttering words in Greek, Gaelic, and Lykubian. Most heartbreakingly, the translucent ghost of the crown prince teetered on the edge of death. A ragged sob ripped from my chest, and I shook my head again and again. My mate laid as still as a corpse. No flesh. No breath. No life. Already gone. “His soul is faintly there.” Marlena, dressed in a black tunic and jeans, paused her craft as I staggered inside. Scattered around her were small relics, three pyramid crystals, and an enormous black book splayed open.

The atmosphere was suffocating, heavy with despair and hatred. In front of the gates, three powerful creatures stood out. To the right, a white Lycan with golden tips in his fur and eyes red as embers. At the center, a witch with flaming hair and shimmering purple eyes. To the left, a great Dracula, with prominent fangs and eyes as black as the night. On the ground, drawn in blood, mystical symbols formed a circle. At the center of that circle, a baby lay wrapped in a cloak adorned with enigmatic engravings. The little one cried in despair as a dagger hovered menacingly above him.

“We believe that they are actually from infected people from the river towns who have fled the Van Helsing attacks and made it to Rideten. My house is full of witches who have done the same, seeking refuge from the Van Helsing cuffs.” “These cuffs,” one of the werewolves started. “Are an invention of Meguitte’s,” Stella announced. “Something originally used to capture Talen Gawaine thousands of years ago. One of the Van Helsings, a man who went by the moniker of Sparrow, was Meguitte’s fated mate, and she gave him the cuff.” “They can be unlocked by saying Thalen Gulgane,” Aislen interrupted nudging Stella under the table and sending her a glare. “We just need to circulate the password, and

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.”