Oblivion Standing Stones Novels & Stories

Returning to her side, Adea was standing before the most peculiar and unnerving sight she had ever seen. In a small opening in the brush, a series of small stone slabs were standing perched in a circular pattern. There were seven of them, and they were positioned around a cleared space that looked large enough to fit a full-grown person. Just outside the circle of stones, there were three larger slabs perched the same way evenly spaced apart from one another. She looked over at Lyda, whose face was lit up with excitement.

The air grew colder. In a small, rocky clearing, we found it. A circle of seven standing stones, no taller than my waist, covered in thick moss and ivy. They looked utterly mundane, forgotten. But in the center of the circle, the moss was grey and dead. And from that dead patch, a thin, silver mist was rising, smelling exactly as Maia described: like a frozen lightning bolt and moonlight on a tomb.

“Tell me where.” He breathed once, steadying. Then he drew it for her with words. “The fog shelf falls off the ridge like a white river,” he said, gesturing east. “We’ll move high where it thins but not so high the ash gullies eat our ankles. There’s a scent path only the old make—iron and wild rosemary. Follow it when you can. Ignore it when you can’t.” “And the standing stones.” “Black rock, taller than a man, set crooked like broken teeth in a jaw,” he said. “The ground around them hums. You’ll feel it in your feet.”

New York, I always heard about this city, it's Ebony's city, I know she won't kill me if she catches me on her lands, but she won't be nice either, if my pet is hiding somewhere around here, I need to find it. I was walking around, trying to disguise myself, I knew new york, have vampires territory in them too, maybe my little would be a vampire, they are a creature of the night, ones that live forever, although most are dominant, some are submissive too, they are the most familiar to the pet life, they own several auction houses around the world.

Upon seeing the Stonehenge up close, it was much bigger and in perfect rectangles than the ones in our world. It made me wonder who built this place. Each standing stone was seventy meters tall, and each short one on top was fifty meters. Many from the crowd pulled out their cell phones, taking pictures and selfies. Some were writing graffiti on the stones. Strange, there should be someone guarding landmarks like this would’ve stopped them. However, after scanning the base of each standing stone, they were all covered in graffiti as far as any arm might reach. Could it be that there were others already here before we came along?

Instead… She felt safe. She frowned at the realization. “You’re becoming a very bad habit.” Fen glanced back. His blue eyes caught the moonlight. She laughed softly. “I’m talking to a Direwolf.” His ears twitched. “I’ve officially lost my mind.” ⸻ Nearly twenty minutes passed before Fen stopped. They had entered a small clearing unlike any Rowan had seen before. Massive standing stones formed a rough circle around an ancient oak. Each stone was carved with weathered symbols. The same symbols she’d seen faintly glowing on Arawn’s feather.

The mark went from warm to burning the moment we crested the hill above the site. Kael felt it through the bond. He signaled the vehicles to stop. We got out. The site below was a wide flat space between four large standing stones, ancient, covered in the same script that ran along the knife blade. The grass around the stones was flat and still in a way that had nothing to do with wind. Veyne was there. Small at this distance. Standing in the center of the stones with his arms extended and his head down and the air around him doing something that was not visible exactly but was present. A pressure. A frequency being built.

“Come. The tide is receding. The memory will rise soon.” Clara hesitated for only a moment before following. As they descended into the cave, the air grew thick, not with moisture—but with pressure. As if they were being watched by something buried just beneath the surface of reality. The passage narrowed and then opened into a chamber lit by bioluminescent fungus trailing from the ceiling like hanging spirits. At the center stood a pool of still water surrounded by eight standing stones, each carved with ancient glyphs and sealed with handprints—some small, some impossibly large.

she said and leaned towards Iktanne's ear and whispered, "... we've heard a few days ago in the library from the proctors that the Giants were collecting gold and souls from the normals. They said that there was an insignia left on the shores of the north... which might cause a great trouble because it links back here in the Academy and the Empire." Iktanne's face was wild with shock. "What insignia was it?," she whispered back. "Well, we don't know for the bell started ringing for our next class so we weren't able to get what they were saying." The blond guy, Anthony, stood up from the other end of the couch and interrupted them, saying he'll be away to get some food. He looked at Iktanne's

POV: Barzil The platform stones were cold. They siphoned the remaining heat from my boots, the chill climbing my shins. I stood at the edge of the stone dais in the center of the ruined plaza. My palm was slick with sweat against the pommel of my sword, the grip-texture biting into my skin. Below me, a density of biological forms—Lycans, Nulls, and Rogues—surged against the containment line. "Death! Death! Death!"