Hestia Statue Novels & Stories

A face that was certainly above average, but not that excessive as to make one feel that she was the most beautiful in the world. Hana's figure appeared right above the statue depicting the Goddess of the Sun, a statue of a beautiful woman in a flowing dress crowned with a tiara shaped like the rays of the sun. The statue was massive and was in a giving pose, with her hands stretched outwards like it was offering the sun to the world. Hana appeared in those stretched out palms. Ley blinked his eyes repeatedly as he imagined how the old man reacted the first time he experienced this. Was he as awestruck? With his head going blank too?

Thaelen and Thorarin were guided through into the great hall, lined with the altars of the gods, and began the slow progression from altar to alter, offering their pre-prepared sacrifices and prayers, until they reached the mother goddess, a magnificent stone statue of eternal youthful beauty, depicted with luscious fertile curves, full thighs, and rounded arms. The statue had been decorated with precious stones, her wrists, and arms ringed with gold, the eyelids painted with it. The statues eyes were set with the deepest blue-purple sapphires, reminding Thaelen of Sigrid’s dark blue, too knowing eyes, and her lips were painted the richest of reds. The statue of the mother goddess was dresse

“And let us see if there was a mistake that happened earlier.” “Why would I follow your order?” “I said,” Zarion's husky and steel voice echoed in the room, “call your fiancee and tell her to get her ass. Right. Now.” Alpha Brandon’s head turned upwards and I saw how his jaw clenched. Silence reverberated in the temple for as long as I can remember. I believe he was now calling her fiancee—or let me change that term—he was mind-linking Hestia to come here to the magnificent Moon Goddess’ Temple. It didn’t take any more time because a fairy-looking woman was sauntering towards our front; her glistening skin was as white as Snow White, complimenting the vibrant bloody red dress she was wearing

Against the white marble walls that had a brilliance of its own it didn’t fall pale in comparison but instead seemed to magnify its royalty to some extent. “Yes, that’s the one but you can’t touch it, okay?” he said and nodding at him understanding the security and spiritual reasons behind it I faced the statue of the goddess that was placed in the center wall of the room where the goddess was carved into the marble wall with a flowing white dress and smooth silver tresses flowing down her back. Her hands were placed in the center holding a ball that represented the actual earth and her eyes were closed as it showed she was praying and protecting it.

“We’ll finish this soon, I promise.” We move deeper into the hall. Every sound seems to vanish before it can echo, swallowed by the shadows. It feels like walking among ghosts, through a temple that remembers too much. Then Lydia stops. Her eyes fix on a stone bust of a woman with soft, perfect features. “I recognize her,” she whispers, reaching out but hesitating before her fingers make contact. “It’s Selene,” I murmur. “Goddess of the moon.” Lydia’s gaze sweeps upward, toward the centerpiece of the exhibit. At the top of a marble temple stands a statue of the goddess herself, holding a silver dagger that gleams even in the dim light.

Valen snapped his fingers. Fwoosh! Wall sconce torches came alive, lighting up to brighten the grand, albescent white hall. As the others dropped their backpacks on the dirty floor and scanned the dusty surroundings, it was the enormous light blue, fifty-foot marble statue of Selene, sitting on a crescent moon, that caught my attention. “I’ve seen that statue before,” I mumbled, recalling one of the visions. “That's natural since you are tethered to this place,” Valen concluded, walking up to it and gently putting me down.

Come on, answer me. There was silence. The only thing Hestia could hear was the sound of Grace's even breathing. Hestia paused, then took Grace's hand and smiled. "Rest, then. You've had a long day," she said. Grace slept well that night. The next day, she woke up early and followed Hestia to the photography exhibition. Hestia wasn't just the mother of Xander Fulton, the president of Fulton Group. She was also Sunny, one of the top three travel bloggers on Instagram.

He led Hesper to put down the suitcases before turning to face her. He felt that Hesper was beautiful when he took a glance at her just now. He did not expect that she was even more stunning when he took a closer look at her. "Are you Zenovia's assistant?" Hesper shook her head. "I'm her designer, and I'm one of the guests on this reality show too. My name is Hestia." It was only then the coordinator knew who she was. When Zenovia contacted them, she told them that she would only join the reality show if they included one more person, and that person was Hestia.

His waist length, white hair brightened the room. Hera wore a similar gold outfit, she had an Halo crown on, and her lips formed a thin line. Trust hera to always look serious, like breakfast was a battlefield.We all made two straight rows, letting them walk in the middle, like we did on Mount Olympus, when they'd arrived to sit on their throne. Here wasn't Olympus, and here wasn't a kingdom, or a castle. We'd strongly advised against him erecting a castle on Mount Olympia, as he'd named it. It wasn't a replica of Olympus, but, the Mansion was decorated to look more like a palace.

Her gentle voice was patronising and like obedient children each parties withdrew their hostile stance and never spoke another word pleasing this beautiful woman. And when her searching eyes fall on me, my lips part in a gasp shamelessly drinking in her sharp features. Her hair!! Her hair was of fire, like a waterfall of flames tumbling down to reach her waist with a simple metallic brooch pulling it away from a face of refined composture, her nose slender and long, lips a shade darker than her skin of caramel and emerald eyes with hints of sapphire peeking through lashes in an alluring curve. "I am Hestia." She smiles with plump cheeks like the petals of camellia flowers.