Oblivion Standing Stones Novels & Stories

“Satellite tracking, and online maps, weren’t a thing, nor were electronics. I’m guessing neither were added into the equation to protect against.” They followed Hayden and April’s directions along with Angelica’s words of caution until they came to what was left of two converging dried-up riverbeds. There wasn’t much evidence left. But what was the clear telltale sign they’d arrived were the standing stones. It wasn’t just one, but there were many. Too many too easily could. Stacked in almost cavelike creations, with roofs like tables. All were of different sizes. Some were so small that only a tiny woodland creature could seek refuge in the structure. While others opened into the bowels of

“The Circle is building something worse than wolves. You know it. I know it. Hollowmere was just one piece.” A snarl from one of the elders. “We don’t follow city wolves.” Logan didn’t blink. “Then follow war. Because it’s coming for all of us.” The wind shifted. And slowly, one by one, they bowed. In the woods, Evelyn found it. The clearing her father marked. No tombstone. No structure. Just a circle of standing stones. In the center: a mound of earth, disturbed. She knelt, hands trembling, and dug. Not with tools.

She paused and frowned, "What is The Roghnoir for now?" The stones were almost at their full size, towering over them as massive boulders taller than some trees. Ambrose held firm, making the final adjustments to their structure and balance, making sure they would hold strong against any attack. And with the last few feet of stone inching out of the ground, Ambrose stopped them from growing further. They were ready. "It is worthless, nothing more than a plain obsidian fire-pit. Any power that it held died along with the Veil-Stones when they were destroyed." Ambrose said, dropping his hands by his sides and letting out a tired exhale.

I owe them a lot already, and they haven’t even started fighting with us. On top of the high hill, forty bluestone standing slabs are positioned in a circle. Each monolith is over six feet tall and has to weigh over two tons. In the center of the monoliths stands a bluestone slab altar. Some stones are stacked on top of the vertical stones to form a triangle. The wear of the stones indicate that they have been here for a long time. “We used to gather here for ceremonies,” Ivy explains as she lights torches with her magic. “At least until our gatherings made your kind too nervous.”

And somehow, they were waking inside her. The stone circle stood at the northern ridge of the territory, hidden among thick trees and jagged rocks. No wolf dared hunt near it. It had always been an eerie place, forgotten and avoided. Now I knew why. The stones themselves were enormous, each one twice the height of a man, weather-worn and blackened in places. Moss clung to their bases. Strange symbols had been carved into their surfaces, faded but not gone. Oscar followed behind me in silence. Even he didn’t try to speak here. I stepped past the threshold of the circle. The air changed immediately. Cooler. Heavier. Like stepping into another world.

“We gather all the stones in one place. Force the power to concentrate.” “That’ll take hours. Maybe days. And we don’t know if it’ll even work.” “It’s the only option we have.” They worked through the night. Wolves and soldiers hauling stones, piling them into a massive cairn at the settlement’s center. The stones resisted, trying to roll away or sink into the ground. But weight and ropes held them in place. By dawn, every stone was gathered. The cairn stood fifteen feet high, a monument to something that shouldn’t exist.

The Spire of Obsidian With its angular shape piercing the amber haze of the desert, the Obsidian Spire rose above the horizon like a sinister sentry. Standing at the edge of a rocky outcrop, Zara, Elara, and their newest friend, Lyra, looked towards their objective. The polished black stone glinted menacingly in the waning light, and it towered unnaturally tall. "That's it," Zara whispered. Her heart thumped uneasily, but she spoke steadily.

She did not stop until she found the burial grounds. The place was so worn in the shadows of the past that it had become sculpted over time. Stones were the last markers that showed where a few souls deviated from the old battles, pox, or whatever left their gruesome track upon this unwelcoming cell. One could call it rest, or maybe honour-of a million now-in-soil souls-but tonight, it had that wrong feeling to it. It seemed too still, the shadows were deceptively profound. An ancient stone altar lay atop the clearing. Moss and vines hung over it, but something dark throbbed beneath its skin. Evelyn walked up to it, her own heart keeping time with the rhythmic pulse throbbing out from the st

The basin was cold, sigils around the circle dimmed. Lerder stood in the doorway, breath catching. “Elara?” She turned slowly. Her voice was hollow. “The gods have stopped listening.” The Western Stones Bleed, Scout reports flooded in by morning. The far western boundary stones—relics that had stood silent for millennia—were cracked. One was found leaking red mist. The other hummed like a tuning fork in a dead wind. No footprints. No invaders. But the symbols carved into them were… new.

“Or it’s bigger than us and pretending it isn’t would get us killed faster.” I didn’t answer. --- Midday We found the first sign of them just after noon — a set of standing stones, worn smooth by wind and sun. They were arranged in a rough circle, each one etched with symbols I didn’t recognize. “This is it?” Asher asked. I shook my head. “This is a border.” “Border to what?” “Somewhere that doesn’t want us in it.” The air inside the stone circle felt… heavier. Like stepping into water up to your shoulders. Every sound dulled. Even the crunch of our boots on the dry earth faded to nothing.