Echoes From Agartha Novels & Stories

How annoying Agatha was becoming. SLINGG! The leaves cut through her clothes and pierces her skin. Her arms and legs had deep wounds throughout. “AGHHH!” screamed Elva, she dropped down to the ground. She was being chopped up left and right. “Kill!” “Fuck!” shouted Elva. She jumped up and tried to shift. “Not a chance,” said Agatha. She lifted both her hands and summoned up some orbs. “I won’t let you.” She sent her magic towards Elva.

Then Araheen mounted her eagle and urged it toward the place where Gildeon and Yonah still clashed in the sky. She activated her Animation Sigil. At once, the Echo streamed from the needle, slick with both her blood and Kohina’s. Silver wisps unfurled into the air, twisting and gathering until they took the shape of a specter—a vast winged wolf in Yonah’s likeness, radiant and terrible. Yonah became restless at once. His wolf head snapped toward her, and his silver eyes darkened the instant he beheld his own Echo.

Blades raised in salute. One young wolf—Jessa—spoke up. “We felt the echo heal us. We will not let Thorn take her.” Another voice—Korr, Harlan’s former supporter—added rough. “We swear it. Loyalty to the pack. To the child.” I nodded once. “Then train harder. Rest when you’re dead.” They scattered back to drills. I moved on to the inner tents where Elara worked. She knelt before a small circle of stones around the council tent moonstone glowing in her hands. Silver light traced faint wards along the ground thin glowing lines that pulsed in time with the baby’s echo.

Then, Silas spoke. His voice wasn't raised. It was a lethal, icy calm that was infinitely more terrifying than Arthur’s screaming. "Watch how you speak about my wife, Arthur," Silas stated, his baritone vibrating with a dark, suppressed violence. "Or I will have security remove you from this building."

The necklace could have been dragged further away before sinking, if it was ever to. A sharp uncomfortable noice suddenly pierced into his ear and Scott fell down, holding his ears. His brain then started vibrating and he felt and excruciating migraine. He could not stand it anymore. "Arthmata, Arthmata needs you..." a feminine whisper out of nowhere said. It was actually as if the woman or whoever it was was standing right next to him. "Who are you? Leave me alone!" Scott shouted. "Arthmata, Arthmata, Arthmataaaaa." the voice had now taken an agonizing tone.

He looked like a man already grieving something he refused to name. “I’m here,” I said, a little stronger. “I’m not gone.” His jaw ticked. “But you could have been.” “I wasn’t.” “And next time?” Silence thickened around us until even the trees felt like they were listening. Lira cleared her throat, voice still shaky. “We… shouldn’t do another full dive. But we need to figure out why the Echo thinks you’re its heart. That’s not metaphor, Aria. That’s… origin-level magic. Pre-god. Pre-names.”

“Don’t step, not yet. Listen.” Kaelira closed her eyes. Beneath wind and her own pulse, she heard it: a whisper threaded through stone. Not words—reflections. Like voices heard from the bottom of a well. “The Gate of Echoes,” Zevran murmured. “Witches built it when they still believed memory was mercy.” Taren’s hand found Kaelira’s cloak. “It’s calling me.”

"I'll be the end of Echo. I'll stop her!" Tooth, Tessa, Damon, Jordan, and Silvia followed Aria to war. The went into Echo's lair, which was located in the middle of a cave. From what they could see, Ancestral drawings and magical paintings surrounded them. Immediately, Echo's voice could be heard, as it echoed throughout the cave. "Welcome, clowns." Immediately, Aria's magic suddenly began to heat up. "No! I won't be used. You can't manipulate me, again!"

This was something that would definitely growl back at us. “Explain,” Damon ordered, waiting for a response. Marcus stepped fully onto the balcony, keeping his voice down so the pack below wouldn’t catch every word. “They’re not physical at first. The old texts the elders dug up say the Echoes are... leftovers. Pieces of the very first gods that shattered during some ancient war no one remembers. When the Convergence cracked reality, it woke them. They don’t attack with claws or fangs. They attack with memory. Doubt. They make you question everything you believe, your mate, your pack, and even your own strength.”

The final guideline was written in a jarring red font. [On rare occasions, the station will transmit the Predator's Song. When this occurs, remain completely still and hold your breath until the broadcast concludes.] Hold my breath? Were they trying to asphyxiate me? I pouted and clicked on [I Agree and Start Listening.] The so-called 'Echoes from Below' were nothing more than just some white noise, like the wind moving through an empty corridor or a massive creature slowly exhaling beneath the water. Rumble. The sound was low and heavy, with a faint electrical hiss like a bad microphone feed.