Forgotten Ruin Novels & Stories

Having been among the positions of the soldiers of fortune for a long while, he came to comprehend that the legends encompassing the otherworldly human advancement was not without premise and was consistent with a specific degree. In one of his journeys with his amigos a year prior to, Lorist visited an all around unearthed little ruin that was supposed to be a pinnacle that used to be a magus' home. The gigantic pinnacle that connected past the mists portrayed in books was done standing, however the revelation of the three storm cellar floors stunned them. Enormous, smooth dividers produced using hardened steel sparkled like a mirror, apparently unworn from the progression of time. Lines ex

“We’re flying towards far north where our hideout is.” “Hideout?” Arth paused as the word brought back his memories of being in the Forgotten Winter guild. He had worked in their hideout as a cook, wood harvester, cleaner, and, of course, a warrior assassin. The memory suddenly led to Alice. Arth frowned as the old pain poked his chest and tightened it, making him more emotional. A year had passed without Alice, and Arth had yet been fully healed from his painful memory of seeing Alice get pierced by that damn spear. It was gruesome.

Duke was left silent for a long while, his tears rolling down his cheeks. However, he eventually held out my ring, and I didn't hesitate to take it away. That seemed to drain him off all his strength, and he dropped limply on the ground. Before we left, Alex threatened viciously, "I'm warning you—don't bother my sister ever again. We will just treat the cost spent to establish the Forest Pack as alimony… but if you stalk her again, the House of Rod will destroy you." Duke looked up, dumbfounded as he muttered, "The House of Rod… The House of the Alpha King…"

“Victory here is only temporary, and toghinning is worse elsewhere. We need a place truly forgotten.” “Where?” Ronan asked, suspicion strong but cautious. The Remnant’s grey eyes seemed to see beyond them. “A village, three days north. Stillwater. Healers, storytellers once lived there. Wiped off maps two generations ago after a plague nobody wanted to remember. Its story is gone. Thinning is worse there. A good place to start.” The task felt huge. One forgotten village. How many memories are lost? Stories vanished? Liora felt weak. She looked at the standing stones where Ashiel had faded. She had to bring him back. They couldn’t do this without him. He was the Anchor, the steady ground for

The parchment crackled, and dust stirred in the corners of the ancient forge. “This map is over two hundred years old. Scorched in places, incomplete in others—but it shows the boundary between the known and the forgotten.” He pointed to the western edge, where a vast, blackened region was marked only by a symbol—three spirals carved into one another. “It’s called the Ruin of Whispers. According to the old texts, it was a sacred ground once. Until it wasn’t.” Luca stepped forward. “We were told that place was cursed. No life, no return.”

So, I shared the visions of war, the warning about the gate. Caleb listened without interrupting, but the further I spoke, the darker his expression became. "A gate buried beneath the kingdom," he repeated slowly. "Apparently, the Forgotten is searching for it." I stated. His jaw tightened as he said, "There are old stories about sealed ruins beneath the northern territories." That sounded deeply terrible. "Can we not live in a world with normal problems?" I muttered. Caleb’s thumb remained beneath my eye for a second longer than necessary.

They had initially feared scraping by under the command of a level-nine Venerable Sage, but now Adrian unexpectedly offered them a chance to own the island. "Forgotten Shore is an island about five or six kilometers in size. It’s usually deserted and not subject to the daemons' sacrificial rituals. With the southern forest behind it, it's not in the frontline defense against the daemons. If my guess is correct, the major factions won't easily abandon the large islands. Instead, the owners of the medium-sized islands will likely choose to retreat without fighting," Adrian said mockingly. The Sampsons blushed slightly. ‘Is he referring to us?’ they thought.

A black spiral formed on the glass. And beneath it, a whisper in Spiral script: “Where memory breaks, The path to null begins.” “The Well,” Seris breathed. “The first Hollow temple. Beneath the Grove.” No one had entered it in years. Because it feeds on forgetting. And to reach the Zero Gate, we would have to give up more than fear. We 7. The Descent Into the Forgotten Well The entrance to the Forgotten Well lay beneath a sigil of spiral wings carved into stone, nearly lost beneath moss and time.

For the first time since arriving in the North, a thought surfaced in her mind. Whatever mystery surrounded these ruins, Evren Draven was somehow connected to it. And deep beneath the mountains, hidden beyond the reach of kingdoms and memory, something ancient stirred once more. The silver symbol burned brighter against the tree, and somewhere in the darkness, unseen eyes opened.

I half shout, shocked at what I'm hearing How was Rory going to react to all of this? He'd hidden so much from her already but this, this was definitely crossing a line. "It is possible, yes." He says, his worried expression no doubt mirroring my own "And what about this other witch? Do you know her?" "Him" he says taking a small mouthful of his drink. "Remi, he's a week older than Aurora. Somehow he inherited the genes from a great great grandfather. His powers were supposedly locked away by the witch of the great council when he was born" he informs me as he stands to get another drink