Marble Hornets Symbol Novels & Stories

The group reached the observatory entrance just as another gunshot shattered a nearby pillar. Stone exploded across the ground. Elyra flinched. Zevarion instinctively moved her behind him. Protecting her. Again. Even in the middle of chaos. The gesture didn't go unnoticed. Especially by Seraphina. The woman watched them briefly. Then turned her attention to the enormous doors ahead. Ancient symbols covered the surface. The Crest of the Founders had been carved into the center. The thirteen-branched tree. The symbol that now seemed to appear everywhere.

Slowly, everyone, including Ace, Maria, Isla, Liam, Keith, Noah, Simon, Lydia, Jasper, Aiden, and all the other people, emerged from their hiding spots and dropped the cages. “All around the world, at the same time today, over a million doves are set free from their cages.” Veronica’s eyes rested on Aries. “What does it symbolize?” Aries gazed upwards at the doves gracefully gliding across the vast expanse of the sky. “It signifies you! From this day onwards, your days will be filled with light shine, and colors. I won’t let the darkness console you ever again.” “As long as you’re with me, I don’t mind the darkness!” She clutched his hand. “Please, never leave me.”

Everyone looked at each other. “Do you think you made a mistake, Raven? There seems to be nothing special there,” said Hugo. “There is,” said Tyler. Everyone looked at Tyler. “You are all under protection, so that does not affect you.” “Protection? Who is protecting us?” Cael asked. “Just focus on the photo. Do you know what those symbols mean?” Tyler asked. “Not familiar,” said Kyra. “It’s a symbol made up of three interconnected triangles, also known as “the knot of death” and “the knot of the slain”,” Tyler said. “That symbol has a lot to do with death, the transition from life to death, and perhaps back again. “

Bella's PoV "What do you mean?" I asked Fort, my voice tight with confusion. Fort stepped forward, flipping the pages of the ancient black book. His finger stopped on a worn, yellowed page etched with strange symbols. "Look at these," he said, pointing. "This symbol represents the Lycan bloodline," he explained, tapping a claw-like crest. "And this one—the half moon with a star—is tied to an ancient witch bloodline. The oldest I've ever heard of... the Goldenthorns."

This was a question that I should have asked long before now, but it had honestly not even crossed my mind until one of our warriors commented about his new mate’s heat. She flipped the visor mirror down, looking at the mark on her neck, and smiling. The mark fit her perfectly. It was a lotus flower backed by a full moon. A lotus symbolized rebirth and strength. The full moon symbolized completion. Those two symbols combined to showcase who my mate was. She was a fucking phoenix that rose from the ashes to complete this new and stronger Ziyah.

He points to a spiral etched deep into the wall. “I think it’s a symbol of rebirth or maybe a cycle—life and death,” he says. “The spiral is used in a lot of cultures to represent that.” I smile. “Good interpretation, Eli. You’re right, it often symbolizes the natural flow of life and energy.” A few feet away, Marina, thoughtful and always a bit skeptical, shines her light over a series of overlapping triangles. “I think these are protective wards,” she says, brow furrowed. “Maybe meant to guard the entrance of this part of the cave.”

Weird place… A good five minutes later of making our way through the never-ending hall. I realise the walls aren’t just plain marble now, but there are engravings within the marble, emphasised in gold. Werewolves symbolise the moon, but I can see the Solaris hold both the sun and moon in equal importance. “No offence… but these halls are sacred to the Solaris bloodline. Yet you brought an outsider to the meeting. I am not sure how well that will be accepted-”

Whisper: “I see you.” The bones shift once. I move on. Until I find it. The altar. Half-swallowed by earth, older than the packs, the temples, even Selene. Carved with symbols too old to pray to. Not letters. Not words. Marks—sharp, seething. Each bleeds an aura like dried blood—dark, bitter, feral. One symbol glows faintly as I approach: a spiral flame crowned with thorns. It pulses once. I don’t hesitate.

The girlfriend muttered in dissatisfaction, “Who is that man? How could he be so domineering and block the temple just like that? He’s simply… Mm… mm…” She could not finish the latter part of her sentence because her boyfriend had covered her mouth. “Be quiet. Do you see the totem of the pair of phoenixes on the car? That is the symbol of the Harlowe family from the capital city. It belongs to the famous Harlowe family!” “Famous? Why haven’t I heard of them before, then?”

There are beautiful stain glass windows of the grand gothic architectural style, running parallel to each other on either side of the hall. Each window has different symbols on them, of which some I recognize. There is a picture of a moon and opposite it is an eclipsed moon. The next set has the sun and eclipsed sun, followed by a strophols and serpent. Another set had Isis with wings showing her transformation into a bird and opposite is of a scorpion.