Empress of the Gods

Atarah

They continued walking in awkward silence until they went out of the castle. Some of the fae guards followed them behind.

Six pillars supported a dome with a skyline in the center with some broken steps and a large bed stone in the center. Each pillar was covered with ivy and flowers around it. The gazebo seemed to be missing pieces that were on the ground around them. It had torches on each one of the pillars that lighten the place that night. Not so far from there was a firepit like the one in the castle.

Melione turned the pages of the grimoire she had in her hands while Demir prepared other elements for the ritual.

Myrah and Robbie were at a reasonable distance from the gazebo, as if they were going to be the spectators of what was going to happen there. Each one with a fae soldier on their side, watching them all the time so they wouldn’t escape.

When she looked at the Dimneas’ dagger in Melione hands, she realized it was still incomplete, which was a relief.

She looked around, trying to seize the fae guards around them, seeing the possible route of escape Myrah and Robbie could have and noticing the driadae frontier that was not that far from where they were. She waited patiently till William removed her shackles, but as if William knew what she was thinking, he shook his head in denial.

He told her he wanted to protect her, and she believed that story. The question that roamed in her head since they were on the road was answered. He did not choose her. And in the same way she didn’t know him, neither did he know her at all.

Atarah used her wind gift to throw him away from her and threw her fire at the fae soldiers who were guarding Myrah and Robbie. Luckily, they quickly reacted and threw themselves to the ground.

“Run!” she yelled, attracting Melione’s and Demir’s attention. Letting her power peeked to the surface. “Run!” she yelled again. Melione barely looked at her as if she had everything under control while Demir walked towards her with a smile on his face.

She fought like the witches taught her, disarming one of the guards. She dodged and attacked the guards that came at her, freeing part of her fire to them. They could double her in strength, but she still had her gifts, and this time she was not going to hesitate to use them.

Demir was starting to use the language of spells when she pronounced the same words she used to silence Elysia, so he couldn’t utter words for a brief moment. He growled in despair and tried to attack her, but she predicted every single one of his movements. Every single punch she made was in the way she was taught, so she threw Demir with her wind far away from her.

Atarah had a wide smile on her face when she looked at Demir and then she looked at Melione.

Myrah and Robbie needed time to escape, and she was going to give them all she could.

“Enough,” Melione said with a calm voice still with her eyes on the grimoire, repeating some words in the language of spells that sounded more like a whisper.

When she was about to attack her, she heard her sister screaming. Melione cast a spell on Myrah and Demir was pointing to Robbie with his sword.

“Lower the sword, and I will make it stop,” Melione said with a wide smile on her face as if she knew she had already won. Once the sword fell to the ground, Melione used the language of spells again to immobilize her.

Demir looked at Melione, waiting for her instructions.

“Stop making it the hard way, Atarah,” she added when she looked at her with a bored gaze. “You are forcing me to punish you the same way they do in the witches’ realms. After all, you were raised in one of them. My dear Demir, what was the punishment for helping escape a prisoner?”

Demir showed his teeth with a big smile. “We whip them till they bleed.”

“No,” Myrah yelled. One of the guards had a hand on her shoulder while Robbie was on his knees with a sword on his neck.

“I recall you have an unfinished business with the Silverclaw leader,” Melione said to Demir. With a nod of Demir’s head, two guards stood behind her and they helped her stand up.

Atarah tried to escape them and kicked the air when she could move again. She tried to use her gifts, but it was useless, as if they had disappeared. She tried to summon Galad, only she couldn’t. “Why are you doing this?”

“To test a theory.”

“Fine, but let them go,” she pleaded.

“Funny how you plead for someone else’s life when you are the one who is going to be flogged.” Melione close the grimoire and looked at her. “You see, if I let them go, then you won’t cooperate. You will try to escape again, and I don’t have time to send someone for you again.”

They made her hug one of the thin pillars and broke her blouse from the back, letting her feel the cold air in her skin. Demir touched her back with one finger, which made her move uncomfortable. “I couldn’t settle with Rhiannon, but I will do it through you,” he whispered in her ear as he laughed.

“That’s not necessary,” said William.

“Are you volunteering to do it yourself?” Melione asked to William. “After all, she is a creature, and as I remember, a creature killed your family.”

“They were fae, not driadae,” he quickly replied. “You don’t need to do that to her.”

“Seize him,” Melione ordered to her guards. For a moment, everything was quiet when she heard a noise in the wind after Demir spoke a few words in the language of spells. She moved uncomfortably, but she could stand it. The pain was bearable.

“Again,” Melione said.

“It’s not doing anything to her,” complained Demir.

“Do it with fire.”

Atarah wondered about Melione’s theory. What did she want to find out? It was clear to her that Melione loved blood, but she was desperate to find out something from her, as if she expected to wake something inside her.

When Demir used the language of spells again, Atarah saw how part of the fire of the firepit moved to Demir in a thin line.

Atarah was scared. She closed her eyes, trying to wake up from the nightmare she was living, only it wasn’t a dream. When the fire touched her skin, she screamed, holding onto the pillar. It felt as if they were stabbing her back as her skin burnt. The second time hurt even more, making her scream again while her tears fell on her cheeks, making her knees bend. She tried to bury her nails in the pillar as if that would make her endure the pain.

“How much pain does it take for someone to break?” Melione asked, walking towards her. “Do you know, or you are close to finding it out?” she added with a wicked smile while Demir hit her one more time.

Atarah didn’t hide her pain. She let out her screams, feeling warm and wet on her back. Only she was not the only one screaming. Myrah was begging Melione to stop. When she glanced at William, he was trying to free himself.

“Again,” said Melione and she fell to her knees, not feeling the strength to stand still. Demir did it two more times, making her scream each time.

“Enough, Demir,” Melione ordered, but Demir hit her one more time, letting the fire burn her again. She could barely scream. “I said enough!” Melione yelled to him. Then, she walked towards her. “The Gods are asking too much from you. You died. You came back and you continue reliving your death over and over again. They are going to let you die again, so you come back to life until you fulfill the task they gave you,” she said with a calm tone of voice. “You see, for me that’s torture, because in each life you are doomed to commit the same mistakes without knowing it. You won’t remember a thing. Not even who you loved or who loved you.” She spoke to her as if she understood the burden.

Atarah spat at her, since she could not utter any words for the pain she felt. She could barely open her eyes.

“I once was like you. I tried to fit in with the witches’, and they never accepted a half-witch and half-driadae. They were disgusted by my driadae side, so I went seeking refuge in driadae realms, and they taught me how to use my gifts.” Melione put a hand on her wrist, letting her feel how her skin burnt from her ice gift, leaving a mark in it. “They make me feel worthless and killed the only one I cared.” Melione looked at her fist and saw how her ice started to cover her skin and when she opened it again made her ice disappear. “No one listened what I had to say. They took me for a fool in driadae realms until he appeared. He showed me no one could limit me,” she added as if she had got lost in a memory. “Join me.” Melione crouched down to be at her eye level. Atarah only stared at her, trying not to faint from the pain, feeling her anger. “I never had the pleasure of meeting the Silverclaw leader, but I heard a lot about her. So hard-to-please. Cold-as-ice. I wondered how much perfection she demanded from you. And you look like you always do as you are told, being the good girl. The perfect daughter,” she pouted. “Where did that get you?” she asked, touching her cheek. Atarah tried to stay away from her touch.

“Then your kind. Bloodthirsty since you skipped the fun of the Tsaraath trials, but you don’t have to worry about it. Queen of Drykahria is now out of the question.” She turned her gaze to William when she stood up. “And on top of that; love. How could we forget about love?” She looked at her again. “Love. Love. Love,” she sighed. Her face changed in an instant, making her gesture tougher. “Love is only weakness and if you don’t believe me, then look at yourself right now. You think you know someone when you are far from knowing them. You were willing to give up everything. To give him everything. You trusted him and how did he pay you? He brought you to me.” She gave her a wicked smile. “You see, his hatred and his thirst for revenge are stronger. He hates creatures so much that he wants to eradicate them. Love? How could he love a creature that he loads so much?”

Atarah tried not to cry. She tried to hang in there, so when the moment came Robbie and Myrah could escape because she loved her sister and his friend. So, for her, love was not weakness. Love was what was making her endure the pain.

“Put her in the bed stone,” Melione ordered to the fae soldiers.

Atarah didn’t have the strength to fight back. She only looked at her sister, who was on her knees with tears in her eyes.