Goddess Awakened (On Hold)

Goddess Awakened - Chapter 2

It was fire. Pure fire.

Sensation came back to Antheia in a torrent of painful prickling across every nerve ending the goddess possessed. In all the years she had existed, she had never experienced anything like it. No physical hurt had ever been this great. It was like every cell was waking up, coming back to life kicking and screaming.

She bit her bottom lip as she grunted in pain. The trees shivered in sympathy. Even the earth trembled beneath her feet. Yet, it was her burden to bear.

With each inhale, another wave of pain coursed through Antheia's body. Her body rocked back and forth under each new torrent as if the pain were a physical blow, pushing against her stiff joints.

And yet, in the wake of each new wave, her muscles became more fluid as her body freed itself from the self-imposed prison. The pain almost became pleasure as inch by inch her body came back to her.

It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours, but at long last her hands fell from her face. Her arms hung limply at her side as Antheia opened her eyes for the first time in centuries.

The trees sheltered her from the full glare of the sun but her eyes still watered in the sudden intensity of the light. Though it was hard to know if it was a side effect of the brightness or the beauty surrounding her.

Her heart clenched painfully as a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek.

She had almost forgotten.

After so long trapped in the darkness of her mind, she had been cut off from the very things that sustained her. She had only had her memories to sustain her but even they could not live up to the reality.

Her hand brushed over a nearby root which rested near her ankle. I am sorry, my friends. I have been sleeping too long.

The canopy above rustled in response.

She pushed to her feet. At least, she attempted to. A moment later, she dropped back to the step she had perched upon for years as her legs gave out beneath her, the muscles at the backs of her legs quivering as they returned to life.

Zeus had definitely never mentioned this. Did he even know?

Leaning down, Antheia's hands massaged the back of her protesting muscles.

She paused.

And then, ever so slowly, she reached out and, between her thumb and forefinger, she daintily lifted the brightly coloured item from the floor.

She tilted her head to the side. The child's gift.

A furrow formed between her eyebrows as she examined the small item. Other than the brightly coloured paper and the sweet scent, there was nothing remarkable about the item. Not that Antheia could determine. And yet, what some of her devotees had never understood, it was not necessarily the value of the gift but the intention behind it.

Antheia's head canted to the side as she regarded the item once more. In her heart, even her soul, she could feel it. The potential. This was what it was leading her to. Antheia was sure of it.

Though her gift remained sluggish in her veins, it responded to her call. Antheia closed her fingers around the small pink block. Her stomach lurched in anticipation.

Her eyes fluttered shut.

"I accept your gift," Antheia murmured, power coating her voice. Her breath blew over her closed fingers as she spoke. When she reopened them, the small candy was gone and in its place laid was a small delicate pendant. "My priestess."

She blew softly and, in a shimmer, the item disappeared.

Two miles away,  a floral pendant formed around the neck of a small girl as she drifted off to sleep at her father's side.

Her magic retreated abruptly. Antheia's muscles turned lax as she slumped back onto the stone, her elbows cracking against the hard surface. Fresh pain reverberated through her weakened form. Her chest heaved as she panted for breath. It was too much too soon. She had known it. And yet, it was necessary. Antheia would not let her priestess be unprotected. Never again. The world of mortals was brutal and bloody. More so for the women.

Phantom screams rose up around her. Men. Women. Children. She shook her head, the world spinning around her.

NO. Never again.

Antheia forced her body upwards even as it protested. Her fingers bit into the nearest tree as she propped herself upright. It was time to work. She had rested long enough.

She placed one foot in front of the other. Her steps as shaky as a new born calf.

Antheia closed her eyes briefly, her attention turning inward. She bit back a scream. Almost nothing. She was weak. Too weak. How had she let it come to this? She would never make it to Olympus alone.

Lifting her head to the sky, she opened her mouth and bellowed, "Zeus. Father. Hear me, please."

Over and over again she shouted for the one who had promised he would be there to protect her. She screamed until her voice turned hoarse.

But, as ever, his response was not forthcoming. And, when her voice could shout no more, she had to face the truth. The fates were right. The gods downfall was here and she was alone.

Her eyes opened and, as she lowered her gaze back down, she stared at the path she had carved through the trees.

She was alone now but she didn't have to be. She had a priestess to train after all.

Antheia climbed down the steps, stumbling over the debris of her temple. At the tree line, she paused and glanced backwards. 

Her heart lurched within her chest. Her mortal home was nothing but ruins. The attack and time both taking their toll. And yet, as she stared at the crumbling mass, her mind filled in what once had been. The great columns reaching to the sky. The ornate marble carved by the finest craftsman of the village. The large open hall where her devoted had come to feast and for respite. The laughter. The happiness even in the midst of an unrelenting winter.

Yet it was all gone. And, as Antheia turned away, she knew she wouldn't be back. The past hurt too much.

Her future was waiting.