Gallifreyan Language Novels & Stories

"My parents died protecting it because they knew it contained information about how to potentially reunite what was broken." I opened the book carefully, and ancient script glowed silver on pages that should have been too deteriorated to read. But the moment I touched them, the words reorganized themselves into something I could understand. "It's written in the original supernatural language," Elder Mabel said with awe, moving closer to examine the text. "Before factions divided, before different species developed their own dialects. This is the pure tongue, older than any living being's memory." "And Aria can read it," Morgana observed with professional fascination.

Her eyes fell on Jade and she whispered in her mind to him, hoping he would hear it. Hang on my love. I will save you. I swear. "Found it," Salem said, a hint of triumph in her voice. Kalista dragged her eyes away from her mate and leaned closer to Salem, her eyes going over the scroll. After a few seconds, she frowned. The scribblings were written in some ancient language that she found hard to understand. "What language is this?" she asked. "These languages are very old," Salem told her. "Languages that were used by the first witches at the beginning of time. Don't worry Kalista. I know what it says."

No other choice but to go through the book. On opening it, she found it was written in a language that she didn't completely understand. It was a language spoken by werewolves in the past to prevent others from knowing what they were talking about. It was rumoured that all Alphas and their subordinates, including the pack elders, are fluent in this language and very important meetings are even held in this language. In her case, she was friends with the Alpha's daughter in her former pack, Liliana. The latter had shown a book similar to this one to her when she was younger and even taught her the basics of that language.

Tribes who taught their people the Old Tongue from generation to generation, never letting it die. Now, it booms as if coming from a speaker, each word clear as day. “Welcome!” the King of the Fae says with a bright smile as he looks at his spectators. “To the Culling!” “The Culling?” Meg whispers, glancing up at me. “Lexa, what is this? Why is he speaking in the Dead Tongue?”

Something within me recognised them, understood them, even as my conscious mind struggled to make sense of what I‘d just said. “What the hell does that mean?” I asked, looking up to find three pairs of eyes fixed on me. Lukas handed the document back to me, his expression unreadable. “I have no idea.” “It’s Lupine Primordial,” Nico said quietly, respect and something like awe colouring his voice. “The ancient language of werewolves, said to be gifted directly from the Moon Goddess.”

Angelica asked, not quite sure what the language was. “I need a closer look; I am going down on the map. Can you stay close by to let me out when I call?” Astra said, not waiting for an answer before pushing the nob. ******** Astra stared at the words trying to remember their origin. This language was ancient and no longer a part of history. It felt familiar to Astra, like a lost memory in a dream. Her hand traced the words trying to remember their meaning. Then it clicked in a brain like a light switch. “Angelica, I am ready to push the second nob!”

"No, King. I used a strong spell to keep it subdued. There's no way it would leave this jar unless the spell is revised." "And you're the only one who can revise it?" The lycan prince was asking. "Anyone who can speak Fael." "The language of Divinity?" The lycan king sounded surprised. "I thought that language was a myth." "It's not." Istra locked his satchel. "So, who else can speak it aside you?" The lycan prince's gaze was stationed on the satchel. "The direct descendant of the Moon Goddess."

"Go!" The wolf ran up the hill, but the figure had disappeared before he got to it. There was no noise or trace left behind. Rhidian's face had closed off. He grunted something curt in Sirenic– the language of the Sirens. "What did you say?" I barked. He glanced at me. "It means that whoever it was, wasn't supposed to have been seen." The half-transformed creature jerked spasmodically, a string of dark water bubbling out of its mouth and, after a while, its chest stopped moving.

The Elf spirit hovered over the mattress, carefully scrutinizing the covers of the books. He moved his finger and the pages flipped over fast. He got to the middle of page of each of the books then stopped, a wide smile appearing on his face. "Is that it?" Prince Ron asked, noting the changes on Prince Kayziel's ghost-like face. "Is that what you're looking for?" In the middle of each page was a single word written in characters Prince Ron could not make out. They seemed to be in an ancient Elfin language.

“I don’t see why not.” A sudden swirling gust whips around us then as quickly settles. That’s when I hear wisps of magic dripping in the Old Tongue from Darby’s lips. The language is dominated by soft hisses and hard vowels, rises and falls in an unnerving cadence that sets my protection charm ringing in my head. Before us, the stone wavers into two as though the images are overlaid. They slide apart, settling on opposite sides of Darby. Beside me Anna and Lili gasp. Looking down at Tessa, Darby smiles and the dog turns beside her in excited bouncing circles.