The Curse of a Godess

2.

My skin burns as it scrapes against a thick forest of trees until my neck whips back with a sudden halt. I don't think I hit the ground, but the small ringing in my ear seems to block the pain I know is there. Vines tightly wrap around each limb, and my limp body hangs low to the ground. Blood drips from the tips of my fingers, and my cloudy vision begins to focus on the forest-like ground beneath me. I know I won't die, but the slow pace of my heartbeat makes me question it.

The vines lightly sway from side to side, and each tendon in my body is numb. The ringing in my ear fades, and a surge of heat flushes through my aching limbs. I slowly lift my neck, and I see nothing but hazy naked trees. Their branches are frail and warped, while the sky above is a dull dark maroon color with heavy black clouds. I hear a Raven call in the distance, and the vines begin to thin as they attempt to hold my weight. After what seems to be a hundred years of floating on the vines, they suddenly snap and my body roughly hits the floor beneath me.

I slowly push myself up, trying to ignore the air that was pushed from my lungs. My body sings when I feel the first breath of air and I begin wiping the blood onto my dress. A sharp pain stabs into my abdomen, and my head grows dizzy. The images of my surroundings begin to blur again, as my head throbs in agony. My stomach twists as if I hadn't eaten in centuries, and my eyes frantically scan for food. I will eat anything. Even if it was fruit covered in mud.

I gather my wobbly limbs and begin to hobble through the dead forest. There is no sign of water and no sign of life. The air is dry and thick, while the brittle ground crunches beneath my feet. It seems to be endless acres of dead vegetation, and dry soil. This must be my punishment for hiding from the Gods and living my life in fear. If only I could call upon my mother to help. Well, even if I did, she would punish me even worse than the other Gods have. The moisture across my tongue is no more, my throat is scratchy as I think about the beautiful image of crisp clean water. I press my hand into my stomach to ease the growing hunger pains and take deep breaths to distract myself.

  My eyes catch a large tree with thick branches. Unlike the other barren trees, the branches are covered in vibrant green leaves. One branch hangs low to the ground and sprouts a single pomegranate fruit. I slowly reach my shaky arm towards the fruit and yank it down. The fruit falls onto the dirt, and I dive on it as if it's the last thing I'll ever taste. Without wiping the dirt, and peeling the skin I roughly bite into the sphere. Its juices squirt from the sides of my mouth, and I begin to devour the fruit into nothing. The juices are a perfect blend of tart and sweet flavors. The seeds explode in my mouth, and despite being covered in dirt the sweetness dances on my tastebuds. I groan when the aching hunger calms, and without taking a breath I finish the last of the magnificent meal. I inhale a large breath and stare back down at my empty sticky hands. I wasn't a glutton, but my self-control disappeared once I saw the fruit. The blood and red stains from the fruit mix, and I search for a water source. If there is food, there has to be water. I rush through the trees, and as I get farther, the farther I seem to get from any sight of life. As I run, a branch catches my foot and I am sent flying down to the ground. I wince in pain, and slowly push myself up to my knees. The dirt sticks to the blood and juice from the fruit, and I try my best to wipe it off.

I hear a small twig snap. My head jerks toward the sound, and I see a large black cloak dragging against the dead leaves. My eyes trail up the dark figure, and I see a dull grey hand tightly gripping a metal pole. The pole stretches up into a two-pronged fork, and the sharp edges look as if they could cut through iron. My heart lurches over a few beats when I see the creature holding the staff. He towers over me, and his skin is dark grey as if he has been dead for centuries. His brows are as black as a raven, and his matching silky straight hair hangs to the middle of his chest. His broad nose sits perfectly centered in between his straight brows, and his lips are a charcoal black. His oval eyes remind me of the bronze armor I've seen in paintings.