Empress of the Gods

Atarah

Atarah knew she had no control over her own body, and she was letting it happen as long as her sister and Robbie left that place. She was going to allow Melione drained her if necessary so her sister and friend would be safe. That was the only thing she cared about.

The power within her easily flowed. She could feel it going through her body, but she knew it was being controlled by someone else. Until she heard Myrah’s scream as she fell to the ground, which made her focus on Melione, who used the wind to throw Myrah away from her when she tried to stop her.

Atarah began to struggle inside to regain control as she saw her little sister lying on the ground with a trail of blood slipping from her forehead. The force of the wind answered with a single movement of her fingers doing the same with Melione, who managed to dodge the attack with the wind, using the language of spells. She had her attention again and when Atarah moved her hands, using her gifts with ease, Melione took two steps back.

Melione recited words that the gods considered forbidden, making them angry, but before she could finish Atarah recited the phrase, in the language of spells, Elysia made her learn in case she went through something like that. She remembered that the new Silverclaw leader found a spell in the grimoire that was improved over the years just for a time like that because somehow Rhiannon knew something like that would happen. Rhiannon Silverclaw, a woman ahead of her time, made her last move on the chessboard through her.

“To the stars I ask,” Atarah fluently said in the old tongue, and Melione’s smile was replaced by fear. “Let the power that floats within me expand,” she ended up saying, seeing the white flame of the firepit turn purple to blue. The crystal on the firepit began to crack until Atarah tightly closed the palm of her hand, making it break into pieces.

Melione uttered a high-pitched scream as she squeezed the handle of the Dimneas dagger that still had a missing piece, burning Melione’s hand as if she had put it directly into the fire, but she did not release it immediately until she couldn’t stand the heat of it. Melione tightly closed her burnt hand as she clenched her teeth when she looked at her.

Atarah heard voices, whispering different things to her that she could not comprehend until she heard her voice speak loud and clear.

“You will learn the consequences of ignoring the warnings of the wind. As well as going against the Gods will. You chose to follow Erebus in his cause as the forgotten daughters of Dryderia so what it was once bestowed upon you will be restored to where it belongs,” the gods said through Atarah, who felt the bitter words flowing through her lips without a shred of remorse. “For using the forbidden words and challenging the Asteria castle, you will lose every gift with which you were blessed, and you will not be welcomed back in the lands of the descendants of the daughters of Dryderia.”

Atarah felt there was a warning hidden in those words for her. She couldn’t control her words or movements, but she could hear, see, and feel everything around her.

The flame of the firepit began to absorb darkness coming out of Melione and as it did, the fire began to increase in the firepit, moving rebelliously and changing from dark to yellow to white. Atarah was being used by the gods as a bridge between them and mortals. They took the most precious thing for Melione, which was her driadae gifts, leaving her only with the language of spells. Atarah felt how that power passed through her, coming to realize the level of power Melione had.

Melione was being exiled for angering the gods.

Fate will not be sweet to you if you dare to divert your path in the same way as Melione. Someone whispered to her as a warning. You can’t hide anymore. It’s time for you to join your destiny, night flame.

Whoever had spoken through her let her go, and the phoenix began to hide, slowly lowering her while her power hide inside her as well. They left her on the stone bed, trying to regain her breath and strength. It was strange how she could bare the pain on her back as if the gods healed her enough to fight.

Melione was on the ground staring at the sky, gritting her teeth and burying her hands in the ground before letting out a choked scream. As soon as Melione stared at her, she started breathing like a bull ready to attack.

Atarah was trying to gather all her strength so she could get up because, although Melione didn’t have the driadae gifts, she was still a witch.

Robbie was about to walk towards her, but Melione used the language of spells to throw him far from where Myrah was. She wielded the handle of a blade she found on the ground. She couldn’t take revenge directly on the gods, so she would do it through her.

Only Atarah did not have that much strength to fight.

Galad shot out of her interior as soon as Melione ran towards her and emitted a roar that threw her away from her, giving her time to get up, but Melione used again the language of spells to lock Galad in a circle of fire to prevent him from helping her.

Atarah heard the roars of her protector as he tried to jump to get out of there, but the fire increased each time he tried to do it, so he started walking in circles from one side to another.

“You never asked me where my guardian was?” Melione said with a wide smile on her face. “You are aware the guardian is not protecting you, right?” she said, laughing. “He is limiting you from your power. Why do you think he has the same amount of power you have?” Melione slowly walked from one place to another with her eyes on her.

Atarah used her gifts to take the fire so Galad could go out, but Melione moved her hand in the air. She tried to use her gift, only she didn’t have any gift left. So, she started walking backwards.

Galad tried to attack her, but Melione used the language of spells to create a circle of ice to trap him. “Join me,” she said, sounding desperate. “You don’t need a guard who limits your power. Free yourself. We can do great things together.”

She clenched her teeth and took a step closer, uttering, “I am free,” as she felt the same rage she felt with the forgotten nereids. “I am the myth no one believed existed. I am power,” she added with confidence; not knowing where it came from, feeling her power on her fingertips, and she was going to let it out when she followed Melione’s gaze to the ground and then to her sister. Atarah was going to use her gifts, but Myrah was closer to Melione. If she used them, then she could hurt her sister.

She saw it in Melione’s eyes. Atarah started running as fast as she could to stop her. As if time started moving in slow motion, Myrah was waking up from the strong punch she received when Melione threw her the first time, and the ice had already melted in her feet when Melione took her by the leg and dragged her to her. Myrah was baffled, not knowing what was going on.

“No!” Atarah shouted as she tried to get to her, watching how the dagger was coming down towards her sister. “Myrah!” she screamed. When William faced Melione and buried a dagger in her.

Everything seemed to stop when she saw the way William looked and held Melione. He had one arm on her back to prevent her from falling. At that moment, she understood. Melione just looked at him with wide, watery eyes, and a tear that ran down her cheek as he let her go. Letting her fall to the ground.

Something inside Atarah ended up breaking because he had never seen her the way he saw Melione. Words were not needed at that moment where so many things were said. William loved Melione, but she barely looked at him as he barely looked at Atarah. He didn’t have to tell her anything because his eyes spoke for him.

William looked at Atarah, still with the dagger in one hand while she had her fire on hers, ready to be used, waiting for him to make the first move. When he dropped the dagger to the ground, she felt a strange urge to tell him everything, to apologize, to beg for more time … to make everything right. Only she didn’t want those things. Her mental shields were down, allowing her to feel his emotions as if they were hers. William looked at her as if it was the first time he saw her.

Atarah left her fire gift to dissipate and slowly walked towards him.

His actions confused her, but she was grateful he saved her sister’s life.

Why did he do it? She wondered, trying to make sense of what he did. Hating that she still loved him after what he did.

William slowly moved to place his hands on her face, trying to rest his forehead on hers. And she let him do it. A part of her still yearned for his touch, for his love; even when she knew there was no turning back from what he did.

When she started feeling fear, that’s when she knew something was wrong.

“Forgive me please,” he whispered. Atarah placed her hands on top of his and felt them wet, realizing that one of his hands was covered in blood. Then he fell next to Melione’s side with one last glance at her before he looked up at the sky.

“Will,” she uttered his name as she knelt beside him, seeing the Dimneas’ dagger covered in blood next to him, making her realize he used the dagger to kill Melione. “Will,” she repeated as Myrah approached them. “Will,” she desperately said, moving his body so he would look at her again.

“Atarah, I think he is …” said Myrah, whose voice was beginning to fade with every word.

“Don’t say it,” she interrupted with a frightened voice. “We have to get him out of here,” she said, trying to drag her body. “Maybe with a drop of my blood.” She started to think that maybe she could save him, but Myrah looked at her for an instant, doing nothing. “Myrah.” She could see her hesitate; she didn’t want to move a finger for him. “Please,” she begged her sister while she was next to Will’s motionless body. When she looked at him, her tears fell like a waterfall, but he was not the only reason why she was crying.

After a moment, Myrah tried to help her.

Atarah was too tired to move and didn’t know how she was standing. Robbie ran up to them and grabbed her by the waist.

“No, what are you doing?” she asked, clinging to Will’s hand.

“We need to leave. Terrwyn’s soldiers are on their way,” he said as he held her and took the Dimneas’ dagger, but she hadn’t let go of Will’s hand yet. “Atarah, he is dead. We can no longer do anything for him.”

“But we can’t leave him here,” she said, trying to move Will. She couldn’t leave him to die alone. She would hate to die alone.

“Think about Myrah.” Robbie looked into her eyes.

That’s what William told her when she saw Aeron die. She glanced at her sister, and then she let him go.

“I’m so sorry,” Atarah whispered before turning around and using the strength she had left to jog because her body was starting to fail.

Arrows flew around her, but they continued running without looking back until they entered the forest. The fae soldiers stopped outside the forest, knowing what lurked in them and what they risked if they entered, but still, they kept shooting arrows.

Atarah felt how the forest gave her enough energy for her to be able to move, but even with that, she could barely move one foot in front of the other. Her body felt too heavy, and she struggled to keep her eyes open, so Robbie carried her in his arms, trying to be careful with the wounds on her back. When they felt they were in a safe place, they stopped, and he lowered her to catch his breath.

“How ...?” asked Myrah as she gasped for air. “How?”

“What about everything?”

“The words you recited before.”

“Elysia,” she confessed.

“Elysia?” asked Myrah in confusion. “What does Elysia have to do with all of this?”

“She knew it,” she replied, trying to sit on the grass. “Somehow she knew it.”

They were still in the territory of the forgotten nymphs close to an open field. Atarah laid down in the cool grass with her forehead on her arms. Robbie did the same, while Myrah didn’t move.

“Atarah,” Myrah said, trying to get her attention, but she just needed a moment, or a winter, to recover her strength. When she was about to rise her head to see her, the edge of a sword was close to her face, which led her to gasp and lower her head again. Being in forgotten nymphs’ territory didn’t mean being safe, since driadaes could cross their lands without being harmed. The only thing she could think about was what her mother wanted to avoid since she was a child. Drykahria.

“How screwed are we?” she asked with her head on the grass.

“Elysia’s gonna be much better off than we are. For sure,” Robbie replied.