Goddess Awakened (On Hold)

Goddess Awakened - Chapter 3

Antheia had forgotten how exhausting her corporeal form could be. It was like every force was trying to weigh her down. From gravity to her own hunger, it was like everything was begging her to sit down and rest for a while. While the sensation was distant, a mild irritation on the edge of her consciousness, she longed for the day her strength would return. The day she would be free. She would love nothing more than to cast off the shackles of her mortal body. Humans were just so fragile. Even now, her body screamed at her for every rock she stepped on and every sharp branch she caught her skin on.

Her true form? It was power. It was strength. It was... convenient.

In the before, she had traversed great distances with only a thought. From Rome to Athens in a matter of minutes.

Not that it had been much help on that day. She had been distracted. Aphrodite had a way of doing that. Her parties were things of legend.

Antheia had been dancing. She had been having fun. And so, she had heard her priestess's call too late. By the time she reached her side, death had already claimed her.

It was her failure. It was her shame. She had not protected her devoted.

Yet, Antheia longed for the gift now. Every time she drew close to her new priestess, she moved further away at dizzying speeds. It was impossible. No mortal could travel that fast. Even on horseback it should not have been possible. Perhaps the connection was still weak?

Antheia swallowed, tilted up her chin in determination, and picked up her pace. Her gift would return. She would accept no alternative. For now, she had a priestess to find no matter how long it took.

The scent of wood smoke drifted on the air as Antheia made it to the edge of the mortal village. Pushing aside a branch, she peered through the gap in the trees and frowned.

How much had changed in the years that had passed? Before she had gone into seclusion, mortals were building sturdy homes and roads. Yet the clusters of homes before her were basic. Perhaps things had regressed in the years she had been away? Perhaps this was what happened when gods were absent? There were no stone structures. No houses. There was only an open field dotted with dozens of tents in a variety of colours.

Like a thread between her and her new priestess, Antheia was drawn to a small cluster of shelters at the top corner of the field. Night had already begun to ebb away, the skies above taking on the first blush of dawn.

Antheia settled on the edge of the field, her priestess's tent just in sight, her back resting against the sturdy trunk of a tree. It was a comforting presence at her back, the trees whispering strange things that made no sense to her. Metal birds in the sky?

It was an hour before the first signs of movement emerged from the camp. A tall lean man appeared through the opening of the tent. He stretched before scratching at his bearded cheek. Then, with a yawn, he set to work building a fire.

Antheia'a head tilted to the side as she regarded the man. Despite only just waking, there were dark circles beneath his eyes. Still, he moved efficiently. Leaning down to blow upon the kindling, small flames soon flared brightly as the fire took hold. After feeding dry tinder into the fire pit, he rested back on his heels. He ran a tired hand down his face, smearing dirt on to his skin at the process.

A breeze rushed through the trees bringing a gentle rustle. He closed his eyes, face tilting up to the sky, as sad smile formed on his lips. He spoke softly, the words carried away by the wind.

The goddess turned her face away. It was like looking upon something she knew she shouldn't. Mortals were unique like that. Their lives were so fleeting and yet the depths of their emotions were powerful. Fascinating. It was why Antheia had spent so much time amongst the mortal in the before. The mortals lived each day like it mattered. Nothing was taken for granted. Olympus couldn't have been more different. It was all boasting and gluttony. It was an endless power struggle that Antheia had no interest in.

Other than her parents and Aphrodite, Antheia would be happy to spend as little time as possible with the other gods and goddesses of Olympus.

Instead, she preferred to be with them - the mortals. They were so different. They had the capacity for so much more. She longed to live alongside them.

On some level, her father was the same. Though Zeus's version of living alongside the mortals had resulted in several illegitimate demigods to remind Hera of his infidelity.

Antheia shivered. Hera really didn't like those reminders. She should know. She was one of them.

Drawing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and let her cheek rest upon her knees. Breathing deeply, Antheia allowed her eyes to drift closed. Slowly, her muscles relaxed as her breathing leveled out. And then, with lush earth beneath her, the protection of the sturdy tree at her back, and the sun warming her skin, the goddess drifted to sleep.

**

An hour later, a gasp escaped Antheia's lips as she startled upright. She blinked. The sun was bright overhead. Squinting against the glare, she fought off the disorientation of being dragged from her deep sleep.

It took a moment to figure out what had dragged her abruptly from her dreams. Her hand slapped against her chest, her nails biting into her skin as there was a sharp tug in her heart.

Priestess.

Danger.

Scrambling to her feet, Antheia didn't wait. Last time, she had waited too long. Last time she had been too late.

Not again. Never again.

Her eyes swept around her but there was no sign of her priestess. There were endless rows of tents but there was no signs of her human.

The vice in her chest tightened, the danger to her priestess growing by the second.

Inhaling deep, Antheia turned her attention inward and focused on the ties that bound them. Then, the goddess ran, her feet following the invisible tether between them before she could even think about which direction to go in.

Despite her harried appearance, she drew barely a glance from the others in the mortal village. Her hair streamed behind her, flowers falling in her wake. Anthia reached the far side of the field by weaving through rows of tented structures and strange metal carts. With only the briefest pause, she clambered over a wooden stile separating one field from the next. And then, there they were.

There was a small river flowing alongside the field. The water was dark, deep and angry. It's roar carried on the air. The rainfall a few days before had raised the water level dragging large chunks of debris with it. And there, clinging to the bank was her priestess. Her face was panicked as she clung desperately to a branch, the water current and her sodden clothes tugging on her body. Three other small children reached down from above, their hands outstretched to their friend. By their feet, a small sodden ball of fur quivered in the grass. It took less than a second for Antheia to take all of this in. Less time to figure out what had happened.

Her sides burned as she pushed her corporeal body harder. Her bare feet pounded against the earth. The skirts of her lightweight dress flowed behind her as her arms works at her sides.

Antheia was almost there when a scream rent through air as a floating piece of wood crashed into the small girl. The priestess's grip slipped from the branch. Her friend, a small boy, leaned further forwards. His hand grasped hold of hers but the water was too strong. Antheia's heart lurched in her chest as both disappeared under the murky water.

"No!" Antheia cried out, her voice rolling across the field in a powerful wave as her arms worked furiously at her sides.

She didn't even pause as she reached the water's edge.

She was a blur as she hurtled past the young duo panicking on the riverbank. Then, at the very edge, Antheia pushed off with her feet and leapt into the fast moving water. She only hoped she wasn't too late.