Goddess Awakened (On Hold)

Goddess Awakened - Chapter One

With that certainty in her mind, Antheia allowed her mind to drift to the happier times. The days when her priestess would help her prepare great festivals for her devoted. The days when she would weave great floral wreaths for the young maidens for their bonding days and would create daisy chains with the village children. And, though she knew it was fruitless, she prayed that those days would come again.

** ** **

Days, weeks, and months continued to pass by in a blur of shadow and darkness. The sun tracked its path overhead day after day, only the slight change in temperature marking the time.

Antheia was almost numb to it now.

Yet something was different. Something had changed. It was tugging her from the endless loop of memories playing within her head. Though the memories fought back, desperate to keep her within their hold.

She almost relented. Almost.

A frisson of energy moved beneath her skin. If she could shiver, she would have. Potential. It was a sensation she hadn't bathed in for the longest time.

It was a sensation she hadn't felt since - before.

She shied away from the memory begging to be seen. The face of her priestess staring up at her, drained of life and frozen in a mask of horror. The rich red blood matted the remnants of her dark hair where it had been hacked away from her head. There were bald spots where her hair had been removed right down to the scalp. Antheia could still feel her blood on her hands. No amount of scrubbing would even take that away.

Her soul shivered. It wasn't just their deaths that weighed upon her - it was the brutality of their ending that she had been unable to stop. They hadn't deserved it. None of them had. She only hoped Hades had granted them the eternal rest they deserved.

A loud crack broke through the muddle of horrific memories.

Antheia's mind stilled. She couldn't even pinpoint why the sound had dragged her from the fog of her past. It wasn't an unusual sound in her forest. Things often cracked and groaned as nature moved around her. Why was this sound so important?

Yet, there it was again. Another crack but closer this time.

As she strained her ears, she could hear it then. It wasn't just the usual sounds of the forest. There were people crashing through the underbrush. Children.

It had been centuries since she had heard the voice of young mortals. Her heart lurched within her frozen chest. Were they alone?

From the conversations she had eavesdropped on over centuries, she knew that they were far from the nearest settlement.

There was a yelp. Instinctively, Antheia stretched out with a tendril of magic, cushioned the small mortal with soft vines before she could hurt herself on the hard ground. Though her gift still permeated through the forest, helping the trees and plants to flourish, like an unused muscle her strength had waned over time. Therefore, even as she gently lowered the small child to the forest floor, her magic trembled from the strain. In her mind's eye, Antheia caught a flash of dark hair and eyes of the brightest blue. But then, in protest, her magic snapped back.

If she was not trapped in the same position she had been in for two thousand years, as if her corporeal form had been carved from stone, her head would surely have snapped backwards form the force of the recoil.

With her ears ringing, Antheia waited for the sensation to abate.

"I want to go back." A small voice murmured.

No. Please don't go. Antheia begged the children in her mind - afraid to be alone once more. Please don't leave me just yet.

As if they heard her pleas, there were some muttered arguments but eventually they continued walking.