Oblivion Standing Stones Novels & Stories

Without saying a word, I nodded. Carefully placing one foot in front of the other, I walked through the maze of graves, my eyes scanning the inscriptions on each and every stone, my mind filled with curiosity and a sense of reverence. My emotions were a jumbled mess of sadness and anticipation as I drew closer to the place where Megan now rested. The stone monument was a haunting reminder of her life, with a large headstone standing as a testament to her existence, elegantly adorned with her name in an ornate font. Every beat of my heart felt like a reminder of her absence, intensifying the pain and causing it to clench tightly in my chest.

Perhaps by the giants that father said had built this place. The procession fanned out around the standing stone, the young beating trails for their elders. Riona found herself in the middle of the pack, looking about herself. At the stones perched upon others to ring this sacred place, with snow and ice sticking to their sides and mounding atop them.

When the storm broke at dawn, we answered it. The journey took us through lands we had only glimpsed in visions. Deep gorges where rivers sang ancient melodies. Forests where trees bowed as we passed, recognizing the guardians who had helped heal their kin. On the seventh day we reached the mist-shrouded peak. The air here hummed with raw, unfiltered power. At its summit lay a perfect circle of standing stones older than any we had seen, surrounding a still pool that reflected not the sky above, but countless other skies from countless other worlds.

At the base of the amphitheater stood the Moon-Stone. Unlike the raw shard in the archives, this was a massive, jagged obelisk of celestial crystal, nearly seven feet tall. It pulsed with a cold, pale light that felt entirely devoid of warmth. It was said the stone could sense the exact purity of Lycan blood; it would sing for royalty, but it would shatter the mind of an imposter by feeding their worst nightmares back into their skull.

And beyond them, just visible through the mist, something massive and pale glimmered — a monolith half buried in the earth, its surface etched with spirals of light. “The Stone of the First Howl,” Caleb breathed. Ava’s heart jumped. The dagger at her thigh thrummed in response. Then Silas stopped dead. His hand shot out, signalling silence. Down below the ridge, dark shapes moved between the rocks — slow, deliberate, circling. They weren’t alone.

"You don't have to fight alone, Alpha. I’m with you. Together, we’ll make them pay." * * * * * * * * * * At the Ritual Site The sun began its slow descent, casting the sky in shades of crimson, orange, and deep violet. The ceremonial site known as the Stone of Oaths stood atop a hill at the heart of the Greenwood territory. The massive circular platform of white granite was veined with streaks of deep green, the color of life itself. Runes carved into the stone pulsed faintly with an otherworldly glow, thrumming with ancient power.

Left without titles, without memory. Without dignity. She dropped to her knees. Her hand brushed a nearby stone. It pulsed. Flickered. Whispered. She froze. The power here wasn’t dead. It was waiting. “Elara…” The wind called her name again, like it had in the Forbidden Forest. She turned. And saw it. At the grove’s edge, beside a toppled pillar, stood a grave unlike the others. One lone obelisk of obsidian, tall and worn, marked with silver runes nearly lost to time.

The light gently came from the source as though it was tapping out a rhythm. He next said, “We’re approaching something ancient as much as we are going higher.” Something left behind. But not abandoned.” They stepped through the shimmer. --- The summit was made of a large and flat stone. Like a platform. At the very heart of the circle are a set of standing stones. Various figures, such as trees, rivers, stars, hands, were carved onto each stone. Many of them were known to me because I had visited them in the city. Some were new.

So she moved with them, her wet dress clinging uncomfortably to her legs as she walked, watching as they all gathered at a specific point in the clearing. The space looked different from the rest of the area somehow, though Lyralei couldn’t quite put her finger on why. Ancient standing stones formed a circle around the spot, each taller than three men and carved with symbols that looked older than anything she’d ever seen. The symbols reminded her of the books in her pack’s library, the ones that talked about the old world before the territories were divided. Deep claw marks scored the stones’ surfaces like something had tried to tear them down and failed, the gouges so deep she could fit he

He was currently, according to Jax's last message, "extremely bored and being very irritating about it." Day seven. Node nine. An old standing stone in a field that three generations of the Thornridge pack had been using for informal boundary marking without knowing it was a covenant node. The contamination here was the most sophisticated yet, threaded through the stone's structure in a pattern that took me almost an hour just to map before I could begin addressing it.