Rolling Stones Novels & Stories

She did not want to dive in only to get swallowed whole. She looked around again, this time with a more pensive expression. Suddenly, she squatted down and gathered a pile of tiny stones at her top speed. When there were not enough, she punched the ground to make more. After she was satisfied with the number of stones she had, she threw them into the water at a speed that made it fly like a bullet. Several stones after several stones, they got fired into the water bullets of a machine gun. Finally, the thing she was waiting for presented itself. Bodies that were a little smaller in size as compared to her broke the surface of the water. Some were still. The others cut through the water like

The group exchanged glances, knowing that they were on the cusp of a remarkable discovery. With each step they took, the air grew lighter, filling their lungs with a renewed sense of vitality. They entered a vast chamber adorned with pillars of shimmering crystals. At the center, resting upon a stone pedestal, was a trio of magnificent stones—the Elemental Stones. Amelia and her companions approached the pedestal, their eyes wide with wonder. Each elemental stone glowed with its unique energy, representing the power of Earth, Water, and Air. The room hummed with an otherworldly presence, as if the stones themselves possessed a consciousness that watched their every move.

We walk back to the house. There is a small stairway on the other side of a large, empty room. We descend into a room where a pool resides. There are no windows, but stones in the wall seem to glow. I approach one, my fingers gently glide over it. The stone flickers. I hear music. The stones seem to be humming. All the stones flicker one by one, playing a melody that seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t place. “Now they are going to show off for you,” Taran says with amusement.

Danica smiled at him. “Miss me?” He said playfully as he began walking on the glowing rocks. “Yes.” She said her breath catching in her throat as he tried to control her breathing from being panicked about him crossing. As he got to her the bag shifted slightly a small amount of little pebbles spilled out of the bag. Danica inside twisted in on themselves as she watched the pebbles fall in slow motion onto the dark ash rocks. She watched the pebbles bounce and skip across the surface. It was as if the only sound in the room was the cracking of the ash rock platform. Her eyes widened as she saw the surface around them begin to crack and creek like ice on a frozen lake.

Larger stones followed, fist-sized chunks of granite and smooth river rocks, hovering in a slow, chaotic orbit around her. Elara’s magic—wild, forbidden, surged in response to her anguish. The stones spun faster, glinting in the fading light, forming a jagged halo that pulsed with her grief. A breeze stirred, carrying the faint hum of her power, a sound like distant thunder trapped in a bottle.

I don’t have matches. What I do have is a pair of heavy riding boots with steel-shank soles and a handful of jagged, flint-like rocks scattered across the stream bank. I pick up two heavy, dark stones, sitting cross-legged on the dirt. My breath comes out in thick, white plumes. I strike the rocks together. Clack! Nothing. I strike them again, harder, vibrating through my bruised wrists. Clack! “Come on,” I mutter, my voice shaking from the cold. “Come the fuck on.”

I turned around slowly to see every single rock on the grounds floating. "Am I…" "Yes, Rosalind, this is all you." I was shocked. I wasn't even doing anything. "How do I bring them down?" I asked, not knowing exactly how I managed to do all of that by mistake. "Just breathe, try to relax. Then imagining the stones going down." I highly doubted that I could undo this but I tried anyway. Nothing happened. I calmed my muscles down, relaxed. Still the stones kept floating. "Try using your hands."

A measure of the balance in the clearing. The rumbling focused, becoming a low, grinding sound that seemed to come from the very bones of the mountains encircling them. From the tree line, ancient stones not loose scree, but great, moss-covered sentinels half-buried for centuries began to shift. Soil fell away from their sides. They did not roll or fly. They turned, with the agonizing slowness of continents, until their broad, lichen-crusted faces were aimed at the clearing. At Silas. The valley was not attacking. It was presenting a jury. Cassian pushed himself up on his good arm, coughing grey dust. His eyes were wide, fixed on the moving stones. This was beyond any magic he knew.

POV: Rhea Mooncrest "Where is the ritual, Micah? It’s too quiet here." Rhea stopped in the center of the Whispering Stones—a circle of jagged, upright monoliths that looked like teeth pointing at the sky. The air was unnaturally still. There were no crickets, no wind, no sound of distant wolves. Micah stopped and turned to face her. He didn't look like a savior. He looked like a man walking to his own funeral. "I’m sorry, Rhea," he whispered.

The woman waved her hand at the stones on the side, and the stones moved. Everyone watched her actions curiously. “Did you think I managed to live to this day by relying solely on my domain? Hehe, you’re greatly mistaken. I have exactly what it takes to deal with you!” The stones attacked Philip. They were not ordinary stones but humanoid creatures made of stones! They were very tall and seemed determined to crush Philip with sheer size. His exotic fire did not affect them. They were not ordinary stones, and stone was not afraid of fire. Philip’s sword clashed with the stone monsters with loud crashing noises. Gravel flew everywhere, but Philip remained unharmed.