Empress of the Gods

Atarah

Atarah knew the council was not delighted about having her in Khrysaor, and they didn’t even bother to hide it, but she didn’t think they wanted to get rid of her. After knowing the plan the hunter and his men had, she didn’t feel like getting acquainted with Melione. She didn’t know her and hadn’t even heard of her, but she was sure she didn’t want to find out who she was.

Suddenly, she heard a knife cutting the rope, making her wonder how the stranger who was tied next to her got it. In a blink of an eye, the stranger went from being tied to cutting her ropes.

“We have to get out of here,” whispered the curly-haired stranger to her while he finished cutting the ropes on her ankles. “Don’t turn around and prepare to run,” he ordered, but he didn’t have to tell her twice after seeing how those men were seizing up the hunter to take him out, so they didn’t have to share the bounty.

Atarah wasn’t scared of them. She only feared the hunter thanks to the stories she’d heard about them. Trained by the best soldiers in the human realms with the only purpose of killing creatures that dared to cross their borders to protect their lands. Only that that was far from what they were doing. Countless rumors about the hunters were heard among creatures in which she didn’t doubt most of them were true.

The hunter began to lose his patience, and his men surrounded him. The moment the stranger cut the last rope, the hunter noticed them, and the others followed his stare.

“Run,” the stranger said out loud, and without giving it a second thought, Atarah put her hands on the cold and wet ground, so she could get up and run. She didn’t look back, but she didn’t make it that far when someone grabbed her by the waist, pulling her towards him. At that moment, she felt her fire at her fingertips, and her palms got warmer and warmer until the fire came to the surface, and whoever held her let out a scream as he freed her.

“Damn bitch,” the man shouted. “When I reach you, I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget,” he threatened.

“Trust me. You don’t want to do that.” She imitated the same half-smile Rhiannon gave to each one of her enemies when she was about to attack. Atarah faced the man with the fire in the palm of her hand and threw it towards his direction so she could run again. She couldn’t let him follow her, but the man with a scar on his cheek managed to avoid the fireball. She was ready to shoot another one when Galad emerged from within her, without warning. He attacked another man she hadn’t noticed. Galad roared so loud that his breath threw him and to the other man that came behind him. Her protector attacked the one closest to her so she could escape, but she didn’t want to leave him behind. Galad growled in her direction, pushing her to run. Then, she tried to run as fast as she could, placing her hands to the front, moving the branches of the trees to the sides while she tried not to bump into them.

She didn’t see the stranger who freed her or the hunter who was the one she was worried about bumping into. It was the first time she feared for Galad’s and her life, but she couldn’t allow herself to get caught for anything in the world. She felt the emotions of those men and the plans they had before asking for the bounty, which made her want to throw up. They didn’t like the idea of splitting the profit with the hunter and even less when they found out what she was, as if they found a gold mine.

Atarah was starting to worry for Galad, who still hadn’t returned to her side. She saw him slowly approaching her, only he hadn’t noticed the presence of the man with an eye patch, who was about to stab him with a dagger.

“No,” she yelled just in time for Galad to dodge his attacker and then he strongly hit him with his paw.

Roots emerged from the ground, capturing the man who planned to attack her protector as if they were snakes that quickly curled up all over his body. Another root came out to catch the others that followed.

She didn’t remember the moment she placed her hands on the ground, feeling movement under it, and how the roots of the trees as their branches were ready to answer her command, but an arrow flew close to her, leaving a scratch on her cheek.

The hunter called for her attention at a reasonable distance, making her lose concentration on the men she’d trapped. He prepared another arrow when Atarah saw the stranger with curly hair behind the hunter. When the hunter followed her gaze, she let him anticipate the attack from behind, instantly blocking her savior with his sword. The crash of swords was heard while her attackers recovered from the momentary absence of air they had when she trapped them with the roots.

The one with an eye patch furiously stared at her, and the one with the scar on the cheek, who was the closest to her, smiled at her, showing his teeth. When she tried to get up and run one of them took her by the ankle, and she fell back to the ground. He pulled her leg towards him, and his companion helped him while Atarah clung with her nails to the ground. She felt her earth power again and trapped the one with the scar, making him take his hands to the root around his neck.

Her strength to fight was fading away thanks to her gifts. She tried to hit the eye patch man so she could free herself, but he held her hands and took his knife with his free hand while she tried to move with all her strength to get rid of him. She managed to hit him in the nose, making him get away. And when she tried to get up, the man caught her ankle tightly. A moment later, she could move her ankle freely. When she turned around, she saw his gaze become expressionless. The edge of a sword pierced him, creating an opening in his shirt from which the edge of a blade covered in blood came out, making the rest of his shirt begin to stain. Then he fell to the ground.

Her savior stretched out his hand to help her get up, but when she took it, he was panting for air and brought his hand to his side as she stood next to him. “Are you alright?” Atarah asked as she observed how blood ran through his fingers and saw the pain in his face.

She was about to thank him when she saw for the first time those beautiful ocean eyes.

“Yes, it’s nothing,” he answered, trying to walk one more step, but on the second one, he fell to the ground. Without thinking about it, she knelt next to him, moving his hand from the wound so she could examine it. It didn’t seem to be so deep. She thought she could save him. She had to save him. Moreover, they were not that far from the cottage. He only had to last the trip. She didn’t have much strength to drag him, but luckily for them, Galad was still in sight. First though, she needed to put pressure on the wound to prevent him from bleeding out on the road.

“Hold on,” she told him as she turned around to look for something to put pressure on the wound when she saw the bodies on the ground. All four men, including the hunter, were dead, which shocked her.

The gasps of pain from her savior made her react again.

Atarah removed a leather belt from one of the corps when she saw the leather bag on the ground, but it had nothing inside until she noticed the strange dagger in the ground from which she couldn’t look away. It was the dagger she found from the messenger and the same one with which that human had planned to attack Galad. The blade of the dagger was shaped in waves, and the material with which was made looked more resistant than a sword. Under the moonlight, the bright silver material let her see the reflection of her eyes that reminded her of the warm colors of autumn and a part of her hair that was almost as dark as the night itself. The handle of the dagger seemed to be made of gold and in the middle of a white marble stone. On the edge of the handle, it had an empty rectangle space where she assumed a stone was once placed.

She heard the rustle of the voices again as she did on the river. When Atarah touched the dagger, it made her feel her gifts at her fingertips, as if they were about to come out. The wind brushed her skin and moved her hair and the leaves on the ground. So, she placed the dagger in the bag, silencing the voices in the wind.

When she tied the belt to the stranger who saved her, Galad approached. He looked at her as if he knew what she was thinking. Then he stood next to the stranger so she could put him on his back. Considering her protector had the physical energy she didn’t have to move him, and when she did, the stranger didn’t complain. She assumed it had to do with him getting close to meeting Erebus, the God of the underworld, more than anything else.

“Please hold on a little longer,” Atarah whispered in his ear before Galad began to move. She tried to jog so she could keep up with him after she observed around them to make sure no one was following them.