Stonehenge Goes Missing
There are many mysteries in the world.
Who built Stonehenge.
What happened to Atlantis.
Why socks disappear.
But perhaps the greatest mystery of all is this:
How did Stonehenge spend three entire weeks in Cornwall without realising it?
The answer, as with most Avalonian disasters, begins with the Ley Lines.
It happened several thousand years ago.
Back when the world was younger.
The trees were louder.
The stars were closer.
And the Ley Lines had recently discovered they could tie reality into decorative knots.
This was a mistake.
Not because they were bad at it.
Quite the opposite.
They were alarmingly good at it.
One afternoon they were racing beneath Britain playing a game called:
"Tag, But Through Time."
Which had already been banned seven times.
Stonehenge was minding its own business.
As usual.
Now.
Many people don't realise this.
But Stonehenge is not particularly mysterious.
Stonehenge is mostly just confused.
It has spent thousands of years standing in a field while humans continually invent increasingly complicated explanations for it.
Meanwhile Stonehenge itself is usually thinking things like:
"I wonder if clouds get lonely."
And:
"That sheep has been staring at me for three days."
On this particular day, Stonehenge was watching a beetle.
The beetle was fascinating.
The beetle appeared to have a plan.
Stonehenge liked plans.
Then suddenly—
the ground hiccupped.
The Ley Lines shot beneath the monument at approximately eleven thousand giggles per hour.
"FASTER!"
"WE ARE FAST."
"FASTER THAN THAT."
"WE ARE LITERALLY ENERGY."
"EXCELLENT POINT."
As they passed beneath Stonehenge they accidentally tied one of their reality knots around the monument.
There was a flash.
A wobble.
A small pop.
And Stonehenge vanished.
The beetle looked around.
Confused.
Then continued with whatever beetles do.
Meanwhile...
three hundred miles away...
on a cliff in Cornwall...
a fisherman looked up from his lunch.
Stonehenge had appeared directly beside him.
Long silence.
The fisherman blinked.
Stonehenge blinked internally.
Neither knew what to say.
Eventually the fisherman nodded politely.
"Alright."
Stonehenge appreciated this.
The problem was...
Stonehenge genuinely didn't realise it had moved.
Because Stonehenge had never moved before.
It had no reference point.
As far as it knew:
the sea had always been there.
Cornwall had always been there.
And seagulls had always been dramatically louder than sheep.
For three weeks...
nobody noticed.
This sounds impossible.
But remember.
There were fewer humans then.
And most of them were busy being druids.
The Cornish cliffs welcomed Stonehenge warmly.
The local standing stones found it delightful.
One particularly ancient menhir introduced itself.
"Lovely weather."
Stonehenge agreed.
A thousand years of friendship began immediately.
Meanwhile in Avalon...
Bran noticed first.
Because of course he did.
The old oak was impossible to fool.
"Something's missing."
he muttered.
Bob looked up from the Cosmic Peacepipe.
"What's missing?"
Bran narrowed his eyes.
"That pile of rocks."
"You'll need to be more specific."
"The famous pile of rocks."
"Still not helping."
"The circular one."
Bob froze.
"Oh."
The Grove went silent.
The Ley Lines slowly emerged from the ground.
Trying very hard to look innocent.
Which is difficult when you're rainbow ribbons vibrating with panic.
"WHAT?"
Bran pointed a branch.
"Where's Stonehenge?"
The Ley Lines vanished underground immediately.
Always a bad sign.
Hours later they returned.
Looking worried.
"GOOD NEWS."
"There is no good news."
said Bran.
"WE FOUND IT."
"Where?"
Long pause.
"Cornwall."
The entire Grove exploded.
"YOU LOST STONEHENGE?"
"TECHNICALLY."
"NO."
said Bran.
"THERE IS NO TECHNICALLY HERE."
Even Bob looked impressed.
"Maaate."
he whispered.
"That's a whole monument."
The Ley Lines shuffled nervously.
"It was an accident."
"You moved a sacred site."
"It was only temporary."
"IT'S IN CORNWALL."
Meanwhile...
Stonehenge was having the best holiday of its life.
The sea was wonderful.
The sunsets were spectacular.
The local stones told excellent stories.
And nobody had asked it to align with anything for nearly three weeks.
Eventually someone had to tell it.
The question was:
who?
Nobody wanted the job.
The mountains refused.
The rivers laughed.
The stars claimed scheduling conflicts.
Even the gods mysteriously became unavailable.
Finally they sent Bob.
Bob arrived one evening as Stonehenge watched the Atlantic.
The dragon sat beside the monument.
For several hours neither spoke.
Eventually Bob sighed.
"Maaate."
Stonehenge hummed politely.
"You know you're in Cornwall, right?"
Long silence.
Very long silence.
The kind of silence that only ancient monuments can achieve.
Then:
"...What?"
Bob nodded sympathetically.
"Yeah."
Another long pause.
Stonehenge considered this information carefully.
The sea.
The cliffs.
The seagulls.
The complete lack of Wiltshire.
"...Oh."
"You didn't notice?"
"I thought the sheep had changed."
Bob fell over laughing.
The story might have ended there.
Except Stonehenge had one request.
"If I have to go back..."
it rumbled.
"...can I keep the seagulls?"
The Cornish stones were deeply touched.
One elderly menhir cried.
The Ley Lines eventually returned Stonehenge home.
Mostly.
To this day...
if you stand very quietly among the stones on certain evenings...
you can sometimes hear distant seagulls.
Nobody knows why.
Except Bran.
Because the old oak later discovered that before leaving Cornwall...
Stonehenge had secretly adopted twelve seagulls.
The birds still visit.
And every summer solstice...
they arrive at sunrise.
Land on the stones.
Scream incomprehensibly at tourists.
And then leave.
Stonehenge never explains.
The Ley Lines never admit anything.
And Cornwall still insists it was one of the best house guests they've ever had.
Even if it did accidentally become a local landmark for nearly a month.
As for Bran?
He eventually carved a warning into an ancient root beneath Avalon:
DO NOT PLAY TAG THROUGH TIME.
Then underneath:
ESPECIALLY NEAR NATIONAL MONUMENTS.
Then underneath that, in much smaller writing:
THIS MEANS YOU, LEY LINES.
The Ley Lines later added:
