Written In Stone Book Novels & Stories

“I would really like to believe you, but in what mind does it fit that the great actor Dominic Stone saved an ordinary woman like me?” “Right into a stubborn little head like yours!”

A slab of pale grey stone just over four feet tall, fractured by age and scarred by symbols so badly worn that they resembled natural cracks more than deliberate carvings. Koa frowned. "The rock?" Zenith nodded slowly. "I knew it mattered." She looked almost embarrassed. "I just didn't know why." The First Hollowed crossed the hall with slow, uneven steps. His hand lifted. Then stopped just short of touching the stone. Tears filled his silver-flecked eyes. "We called them Memory Stones." No one moved. "They weren't built to preserve words." His voice trembled with reverence. "They preserved witness." Eamon approached cautiously. "I've never seen writing like this."

The bond between us will be too strong, making it difficult to push him away. I lowered my eyes to the dark grey floor. "I'm not strong enough," I responded. She laughed and returned to her table, removing an object from a small chest box. Then she came back to me, slowly revealing a necklace with a small, round, light gray stone pendant, resembling the moon, in the palm of her hand.

I pulled the fabric down just enough to show my collarbone. There, etched into my skin, was a glowing silver thread. It was the Weaver’s Mark. It was the proof that I was a criminal. Alaric walked toward me. Each step was a heavy thud. He stopped inches away. He reached out a stony finger and touched the mark. A shock of electricity ran through my body. I gasped, my knees going weak. The black stone on his finger began to crack. A piece fell off, hitting the floor with a "clink." Underneath, his skin was pink and warm.

Then his body went still as stone. The rumbling moved through the ground beneath our feet and he didn't so much as shift his weight. I swallowed, following his gaze. The stone slab at the altar's center was moving. Not shaking. Not crumbling. Writing. I took a step closer despite myself, my fear dissolving into something I couldn't name. Lines were forming across the surface of the dark stone, carving themselves into existence without any hand to guide them. Deep and deliberate, the grooves appearing one after another in that same curved ancient script I had seen on the ruins outside.

Should I start from before me or after my birth? I closed my eyes, letting the pulsing of the rune lead me, my fingers brushing on the dusty shelf as I moved. Suddenly the pulsing felt stronger than before as I stood in front of a shelf. Black Stone Coven. Robin had mentioned them. I grabbed the book, the weight almost crumbling in my hand. I didn't get to move far, I just settled by the shelf, opening the first page. It wasn’t what I needed, even when I didn’t know what I needed, that way I kept on reading hoping that I would find something, anything that would tell me more.

"It’s a 'Heartbeat.' They’ve found the one thing the 'Perfect-Universe' can’t kill: the 'Solid-Mistake'." The "Great-Story" was now being written in "Iron-Ink" on a "Canvas of Stone."

He still puckered his lips and furrowed his eyebrows like he used to as a kid when he was focused on what he was doing. I chuckled, making him turn toward me. "Hey, sis. When did you get here? I didn't hear you walk in." he asks, making me roll my eyes as I smile foolishly. I kissed his cheek and sat next to him. "Just now. What are you reading?" I asked, making him clear his throat as he looked at the back of the book and showed me the cover. "Uh, Pound The Stone, by," "Joshua Medclaff," I said, feeling proud. "Good choice," I added, making him chuckle. "So you've read it?"

I used it on the world. I knelt on the floor and began to write directly onto the stone. 'The Great Hall is reinforced. The stone is immortal. The fire cannot be extinguished by a command.' As I wrote, the starlight ink sank into the floor. The hearth suddenly flared back to life, the flames turning a brilliant, defiant blue. The grey dust on the table reformed into bread. The walls, which had begun to flicker into white space, solidified with a thud that shook the foundations of the castle.

she said, setting them gently on Maera's table. Maera picked up the stone and studied the word. "Unwritten." Kaelenna nodded. "That's what they called the ones whose names never made it into the Codex. The quiet ones. The helpers. The ones history forgets." Maera touched the word gently. "I'll make sure they aren't forgotten either." Kaelenna kissed her forehead and whispered, "Then you've already finished the book." Twilight – One Final Entry Alone again, Maera returned to the title page.