Targaryen Emblem Novels & Stories

The artistry was undeniable, but the message was clear: this was what happened to those who opposed the Crimson Dominion. Five distinct banners hung from the vaulted ceiling, each representing one of the Great Houses. House Ashborne's silver wolf on crimson. House Vex's coiled serpent on black. House Ravencrest's bleeding rose on purple. House Nightfall's crescent moon on deep blue. And dominating them all, the royal standard—a crown of thorns dripping blood on pure white. The vampire nobility arranged themselves according to rigid hierarchy, their pale faces masks of calculated indifference. Caelum studied their interactions with the same attention he'd once given to human court politics.

Zara asked. Rynese carefully unrolled it while everyone gathered around him, the parchment was old and crusty. The northern territories stretched across it in faded ink, some locations were marked on it and notes were written at the edges. A symbol stood out immediately, it was a crescent moon wrapped around a blade.The same symbol they'd seen before. Zara pointed at it. "What does that mean?" Nobody said anything then she looked up. Valkyrie had gone completely still, the colour had drained from her face.

"The ruby symbolizes the final, successful objective. You are carrying the lifeblood of the Valenti dynasty. You will wear the color of its power. Prepare the announcement, Amara. The final phase of the fortress construction begins now." ​Amara looked at the massive, fiery necklace. The cost was staggering, the symbolism terrifying. It wasn't a gift of love; it was a crown of dynastic power. She was no longer wearing the blue of a bond; she was wearing the red of absolute claim. She was the foundation, the architect, and the living symbol of his unassailable legacy.

I winced as I remembered how that had tasted in my mouth as Talon had shredded the arm from his torso. “Here!” I cried and lifted up the mangled limb. The arm had a strange swirling tattoo. Purple mixed in with black. Small shields forming a trailing crest. They were insignia, like a battle flag. “That is unique,” he whispered in agreement. “Each shield looks to represent a different stage.” “Like completing training,” he replied darkly. This bastard had been trained for this role. This intruder had scoped out the castle, knew when the Beta’s would be exercising, that I was not around. Genevieve had slipped past but I will find her.

I can barely stand up… I don’t have the energy to spare for that! Upon arriving, a big door decorated with arabesques opened up to reveal a large ceremonial room. The room had marble pillars suspending a dome-like colored glass roof, an altar high on a platform in the center of the room surrounded by four lower platforms with each a symbol on… The first was a Golden Lion like the sun shining, the Imperial family of Regulus. The second was a sword with an ice blade a sun above, the Ducal House of Evanson. The third had an alchemy cauldron with a sun carved on its lid, the House of Alchemist Duke Petrigan.

Jin felt his breath hitch in awe as he stared at his family’s insignia–a silver dragon with four wings embedded with tiny red and black (the Royal family of the North’s colors) stones on the back, rubies. His family’s insignia… painted in the royal family’s colors; Jin wasn’t sure if that was practically a marriage proposal between them or an alliance as Queen and knight in the future. Sir Alfred whistled, impressed. “Oh, but this is just lovely!” Audrey gushed, stepping in to stand next to the Princess, “Such fine craftsmanship… have you gotten it made ahead of time, your highness?” Aria’s gaze didn’t waver from him as he gawked at her, “I already have it made since your young master told m

Nicole nodded in approval. Daphne eyed her carefully, intrigued. She said that the royal family, traditionally, had armor with some sort of nod to their names. Nicole’s armor seemed molded to her form. There was a little sigil on her shoulder of a golden wreath of laurel leaves. She wore a diadem that sparkled in the light and seemed too ornate to be a helmet, but too protective to be a crown. It was odd to see her armor trimmed in gold considering that the entire castle seemed trimmed in silver. On her chest was the crest of the August family.

A unending responsibility they will take till the day they die. Berg and George came forward and gave them their cape with Tarwood's insignia. Ingrid and Julie designed it. There are three huge branches representing Frosthold, Ingrd's hunter tribe, and the citizens of Tarwood coming together. The trunk is enormous and is etched with a cross to represent their faith, and finally, its roots, the swords Bane and Dawn crossing, representing their wielders, John and William. William initially didn't want an insignia, as he wanted to follow Eldric, who used no symbol other than God's. Still, he relented when he saw that the cross of God was the largest icon on it.

It seemed to be holding a heart, dripping blood collected into a pool beneath it. It was bizarre and goosebumps were pricking on her nape. It never left her the longer she remained staring at the emblem. Flipping it over, Clara saw an almost faded illustration of five banners, each representing the five ruling empires of Hiestora—green with a golden brown tree for Terralis, red with a blazing ember for Fiordalt, misty gray with a spinning wind for Eirinia, blue with an ocean’s tear for Nivalon and chilly white with smoking icicles for Frostalia.

“This is the cradle of the heir to the title.I think. You can see it in many of the portraits in our grand gallery. See the coat of arms on the back?” Eden leaned over to look at the back of the corolla. The engraving in the round could be easily deciphered: a hawk, which, a rarity in heraldry, had its head to the front and held an arrow in its talons. The noble bird was surmounted by a cartouche reading: "I hold that which is mine.” “I'll ask them to take him down and oil the wood a bit," Eden murmured. “If it's a boy, he'll sleep in it. Naturally, if it's a girl, that won't be possible.” Ian replied. He seemed intent on tradition.