Empress of the Gods

Atarah

All she could hear were screams. Atarah knew she was dreaming, but it wasn’t like the nightmares she normally had. This one was different. She could hear his voice clearly screaming her name as tears fell freely down his cheeks.

“Please wait, help is on the way,” begged the man, who looked so much like her. “Father is on his way, Atarah,” he repeated, pressing his hand to the wound in her stomach before calling for help.

Seeing his hand covered with her blood made her recall the face of those men in the forest. The bodies that laid in the cold grass after William saved her, and the moment the roots of the trees climbed them like snakes, squeezing them tightly. She remembered the satisfaction it gave her when she heard them scream.

Then the scenario in her dream changed. She was covered in darkness. And when she looked to the ground, she couldn’t only look at her feet until a circle of fire surrounded her, letting her know she was standing on water until she realized that it was blood. She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth and suddenly cracks began to form in her hands, as if she was about to break into a million pieces, from which her fire wanted to come through. When her fire came out of her hands, it lit everything around her, letting her see the bodies around her.

Atarah screamed. She wanted to wake up, only she couldn’t.

You can’t escape your fate, Atarah, said a stentorian voice in her dream.