Oblivion Standing Stones Novels & Stories

No, frightened. He turned around, trying to retrace their steps. He had just one plan and it wasn't to run. It was to find the dismal cave he'd come across when he'd gone looking for Artin. Another howl erupted out of nowhere then a couple of hoofs pounding into the soil were heard from a distance. Then Sir. Oswic saw three pieces of stones he'd subconsciously noticed before - white, gleaming, smooth and very round stones, not polluted by smears of blood or anything, one on top of the other.

Helena’s body seemed to vibrate at a new frequency, a sharpened sensitivity that made her notice details previously invisible: the pattern of veins in the leaves, the exact direction of the wind, and, above all, the silent call of the stones. A few kilometers from her property, where the woods became so dense that the light barely touched the moss, Helena came upon a rock formation that seemed to have been carved by gigantic hands. They were natural monoliths arranged in an irregular semicircle, covered with grayish lichens. As she approached, she realized the rocks were not smooth. Deeply engraved in the raw stone were symbols that defied time—intertwined spirals, stylized lupine figures, a

She rose up instead, crossed to a shelf crowded with jars and bundled herbs, and pulled down a strip of faded cloth, unrolling it carefully across her knees once she'd sat back down. An old, water-stained drawing showing an unmistakable image of standing stones arranged in a familiar circle. I could not help myself as I said, "I've seen that circle before, two actually. One near the Lycan palace and the other on Fabian D'Oman's land." "Two," Maren repeated softly, more to herself than to me. "There are more than two, girl. There were seven once, scattered across every territory that ever mattered to the old order. Most have gone dormant. Forgotten." Her clouded eyes lifted to mine.

The circle felt older than the stronghold. Older than Blackthorn. Older than the stone in the mountains themselves. It sat a short walk beyond the outer walls, carved into a flat shoulder of rock that jutted out over a dark drop. Twelve standing stones ringed it, each the height of a tall wolf, their surfaces worn smooth by wind and rain, veins of silver lichen tracing their faces like old scars. Tonight, the Moon washed them in cold light—soaking into stone, into air, into me.

Just water and mist and the suggestion of infinity. And there, on the edge of a cliff, stood the ruins. They were smaller than I'd imagined. Not a grand temple. Just a circle of standing stones, black with age, arranged in a pattern that hurt my eyes if I looked at it too long. The stones leaned inward, like old women sharing a secret. Kael stopped the car at the base of the cliff. The engine died. The silence rushed in. It was not a comfortable silence.

Commands it. It is not ancient in the quiet, forgotten way most things are. It is ancient in the way of things that have been used again and again. The stone rises above them all, easily ten feet high, shaped like a tall, leaning obelisk. Symbols wind across its surface. Some eroded with age, others still sharp as a scream. A few glow faintly, pulsing in pale gold and sickly green. As if something unnatural brushed past long ago, and the stone never healed.

“I won’t let this magic fall into the wrong hands. We’ve already come too far.” Caroline’s lips twitched into a small, weary smile. “I hope you’re right. There’s more to this land than we’ve understood. And there’s a reason it’s been hidden for so long.” Olivia turned back toward the stone circle, her gaze fixed on the center, where a particularly large stone stood, its surface etched with intricate symbols. She could feel its power, its call. It was the key to everything, she knew it. The stones had already reacted to her touch, but now, there was a new purpose in her step. It was time to face whatever lay beyond the threshold of this hidden power.