Raven Emblem Novels & Stories

By midday, Ravenswood Keep had settled into the particular, disorienting quiet that followed a battle's decisive conclusion — wounded tended, prisoners secured, the hall's more difficult evidence of violence cleared away with the same disciplined efficiency Silas's soldiers had shown throughout the entire campaign. Elena stood on the keep's highest rampart with Ronan, watching a small detachment of soldiers work at the flagpole above the main gate, and felt something settle deep in her chest as Marcus's chosen sigil finally came down, replaced by a banner Dessa had commissioned weeks before, in anticipation of exactly this moment — the raven and broken chain, Ravenswood's true crest, rising

Suddenly, a strange, low tapping noise sounded against the glass of the stone window. I frowned softly, careful not to wake Julian as I eased out from under his heavy arm. I pulled my velvet robe over my shoulders, tying the sash tightly around my waist, and walked quietly to the window frame. Sitting on the outer stone ledge, shivering against the frost, was a tiny, jet-black raven. Tied to its leg was not a standard imperial cipher cylinder, but a small, blood-red silk ribbon—the personal marker of House Sterling's old inner guard.

Soren and I got back to Soren’s home and immediately set to work whole browsing his family’s library for information, but so far, there’s being no luck. I stared pensively at the badge in my hand, my fingers tracing the worn edges of the symbol engraved into the metal. The dim light of the library cast long shadows across the table, making the emblem seem even more ominous. It was a intricate stylized raven with outstretched wings, its beak curved in a silent scream. The moment I saw it, something in my mind stirred—an old, half-buried memory clawing its way back to the surface.

“The coin. The token. The sigil.” He worked his bruised fingers to his neck with an animal’s stubbornness, and for a heartbeat I thought he’d been trying to tear the ropes. Instead he tugged something slick and dark from under his shirt… a small, familiar pendant wrapped in dried blood. I knew it before he held it up. It was Raven’s…no, not the woman’s face I’d seen, but the emblem she wore when she met with Kieran months ago: a raven midflight, talons bared, the same tiny etching I’d seen on a medallion once handed to our enemies.

"It's fine. I at the beginning deliberate on the use of it as a fortunate charm... But then, I have already got this." Raven took out a gold coin. A souvenir of incredible significance. It turned into the gold coin he had acquired from Isabella on a primary day that she moved into his home. "How may want to this happen, this form of thing......!" "...By the way, there may be something crucial you should not forget...... Why have been you going to suck the blood of all and sundry aside from me......? I will hate you in case you do that." "But, however, you have been already......!"

She nodded vigorously, “Lots of ravens, they are there in their numbers I see them and I wake up” Edgar was still in shock, “That is very weird. Ravens signify a higher realm of magic…” She sat upright. “In the old stories, the ravens have been known as the first creatures of magic. The goddess of old had taken a liking to them and had made them powerful”, he continued, “They even have the power to destroy every other magical races…” She furrowed her brows, “That is deep, so you are saying…” “If you are sure you saw ravens then you might possess the power of these ancient magical creatures”, he cut in, “However the stories of old that have been told of people who saw one raven in their dream

he replied, his voice low, deliberate. The way he said Raven did something to me. No one had ever called me that before. It felt like he wasn’t speaking to just who I was—but who I could be. Someone sharp. Capable. Dangerous. “Victor. Dem. Give us the room,” Xavier ordered without looking away from me. They obeyed, the door clicking shut behind them. I folded my arms. “Why do you keep calling me ‘Raven’?” His gaze sharpened. “Because, in many cultures, the raven symbolizes intelligence, mystery, and resilience—qualities I see in you, Emily.”

Raven rolled her eyes again, even more annoyed than before. “How should I know?” she asked, and then she let out a small sigh and evened out her harsh tone, as if she remembered who she was speaking to. “It seems to be a symbol of an old family, a crest or something. Perhaps like the ones I’ve seen in stories about the South-” She suddenly paused for a moment and then narrowed her eyes. Then, as if she realized something, she gasped and gave me a strange look. “Are these Cassandra’s things?” she questioned in alarm.

“The explosion was precise, sophisticated calculated, and clean.” He paused, before continuing seeing everybody was paying attention. “An emblem we found near the blast site left no doubt, who the perpetrator was.” With one hand, Jax reached into a small case and pulled out the blackened remains of a torn silk flag. He spread it on the table. A crest was drawn on its center, silver and faded, but unmistakable. A raven. Wings spread wide. Claws hooked. The gasps came almost simultaneously, everyone in the room were old cargos who dont need need to be told twice what the crest drawn in the flage means, or the story behind it.

I ask while kneeling down in front of her feeling how uneasy she feels hearing her parents yelling for her. I can’t help blushing a little when I stare into her obsidian eyes noticing her looking me over trying to understand what she is feeling. “I don’t know,” she whimpers at Rebecca screaming for her so I nod and scoop her up into my arms. “It’s ok come on,” I reassure while carrying her towards the barn door to find her identical twin opening the door. They are very much the same except, their hair, eyes, and abilities. Raven’s hair and eyes are pitch black and her aura was that of an extraordinarily powerful Lycan Alpha.