Hestia Statue Novels & Stories

She wondered how such beauty could exist in a place where people were treated so cruelly. They were split into groups and made to work in each part of the hall. Blair kept looking around until her eyes caught a statue at the center of the hall. Blair walked closer to the center of the hall where she had seen this gigantic statue, her eyes widened in awe as she took in every inch of the artwork. The statue was about 5 feet tall and was made of marble. It depicted a beautiful woman in a flowing dress, with long hair cascading down her back. Her arms were outstretched as if she was embracing the world. And below the legs of the woman were wolves, surrounding her.

A massive bronze statue appeared in front of them. The statue stood nearly twenty meters tall. A massive bronze turtle sat below it, and a lifelike Scylla sat above it. That turtle was the black cooter, a mystical creature that also happened to be the god of the Iron family.

The palace was quiet that night, the usual hum of activity replaced by a heavy stillness that clung to the corridors like fog. In the grand hall, the statue of Reine stood in the soft glow of torchlight, marble features serene yet impossibly lifelike. Every detail—the curve of her face, the softness of her expression, the subtle tilt of her head—seemed to breathe with a quiet vitality. Elias stood before her, silent, eyes fixed on the delicate lines of the statue, hands clasped loosely in front of him.

They descend deep into the heart of the mountain, where the air smells of ancient stone and dried lavender. In a small room filled with thousands of jars of seeds, they find Elder Hestia. She is so old her skin looks like the bark of an ancient oak, and her eyes are a milky, soft blue. She doesn't look up when they enter; she simply continues sorting tiny black seeds into a clay bowl. "I knew you would come, Alaric Sterling," she says, her voice like the rustle of dry leaves. "You’ve brought the scent of the spring with you."

They would somehow procure their bodies and do justice to them. As much as they were a bunch of backstabbing snitches, they went to great lengths to honour their dead. But they didn't deserve the right to honour Fiona, and I wasn't going to give it to them. I laid her carefully next to Peggy, making sure to close their eyes for them. "Hestia, maiden goddess of the hearth and home. Let your embers guide these souls to a glorious afterlife. And let their ashes soar through the sky, forever carried by the winds they enjoyed while they lived." I prayed as I stretched my hand out over Fiona and Peggy.

Wherever the phoenix passed, it left behind a faint, slender trail. Below, the crowd stretched endlessly. Valhalla looked even more majestic that night, like a giant standing at the pinnacle of the world. Heads turned in waves, like rows of dominoes collapsing one after another. I was just about to turn back, to avoid being noticed by more people, when I looked up and saw it— A silver statue appearing above the Palace of the Mist Sea. A goddess crowned with white feathers, dressed in white robes, her long hair cascading to her waist. Her hands were slightly outstretched, her chin tilted upward, as if receiving the spring rain.

Esma’s pov Finally, when the last torch lit up the room at the back, I notice a huge statue, whose face was intact. It was beautiful and magnificent. I was literally in awe, admiring the craftsmanship. It was no doubt the statue was of the god. Below the statue, there was yet another chair. A huge one. My blood turns cold when I saw a figure sitting on the chair. The figure was sitting on the throne. His face was covered with the huge black hood, casting silhouettes on its face. long black cloak over his shoulders, resting lazily on the ground.

one of my ladies told me, speaking lowly and respectfully. I nodded, picking up my dress with the help of some of the ladies and we walked through the home, making our way through the mansion with many hallways. I knew this place as though it were the back of my hand. I had committed every corner into my memory. I used to run through these very same hallways as a child, running my hands along the stone surfaces. The grand staircases that spiralled downwards leading out into the entrance hall. We walked through the home, towards the doors, where my carriage awaited me at the bottom of the stone driveway with stone statues made by a famous Swiss man.

She was stalling. “I will show you,” Iris made Athena stand up and dragged her to a separate room, and Azazel followed. She opened the door revealing a little girl of about seven years. Athena and Azazel were stumped. Iris stood ashamed. Athena and Azazel looked at each other in astoundment. While Azazel understood what was happening, Athena still lacked emotional processing of the situation. The little girl had blonde hair and hazel eyes, pretty as the other two ladies in the room. She immediately got down and ran toward Iris, hugging her waist, “Is she Theia, Mom?” the girl asked, knocking the breath out of Athena and Azazel.

It is also a good thing that Hestia was wearing an all black outfit, it blends well with the dark surroundings of the basement and no one can easily notice her. “I found him.” Hestia said through the wireless earphone and she heard a hum from the other end of the call as a response. The auction is currently ongoing and they are in the Object Number 12 already. Object Number 12 was a vase with exquisite flower designs, such designs were in 3D form and it was magnificent to look at them. Hestia then activated her glasses in order to share what she was looking at to her spy partner. And with an awe, she heard Albert coo up on the vase. It was only a short bidding and the vase was sold for only