That evening, driven by an unexplainable urge, Elian crept out of his house. The village was asleep, draped in the moonlight. He walked to the edge of the woods, where the twelve monoliths stood in a circle. They were known as the Echoing Stones, said to hold the memories of the land.As he entered the circle, the air grew heavy, like the moments before a thunderstorm. The stones were cold, darker than the night sky. He reached out and touched the tallest stone, the 'Elder'.A surge of energy shot up his arm, causing thesilver patch on his hair to glow faintly. He didn't hear a whisper, but a cry. A visual memory flashed in his mind: a shadowy figure, cloaked in mist, pressing a hand against the stone, stealing its voice.
Elian withdrew his hand, panting.""They're not just
quiet, " he whispered. "They're broken."