Goddess of War

by Waverly Scott

  Goddess of War

  Waverly Scott

  Copyright ©2021 Waverly Scott

  All right reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  Thank you to the person who has stood by me through it all. Thank you to the one who has always believed in me.

  Thank you to my husband. My everything.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One 5

  Chapter Two 11

  Chapter Three 17

  Chapter Four 23

  Chapter Five 26

  Chapter Six 30

  Chapter Seven 33

  Chapter Eight 39

  Chapter Nine 45

  Chapter Ten 52

  Chapter Eleven 58

  Chapter Twelve 62

  Chapter Thirteen 67

  Chapter Fourteen 75

  Chapter Fifteen 79

  Chapter Sixteen 86

  Chapter Seventeen 93

  Chapter Eighteen 101

  Chapter Nineteen 115

  Chapter Twenty 122

  Chapter Twenty-One 129

  Chapter Twenty-Two 136

  Chapter Twenty-Three 141

  Chapter Twenty-four 146

  Chapter Twenty-Five 155

  Chapter Twenty-Six 159

  Chapter Twenty-Seven 168

  Chapter Twenty-Eight 173

  Chapter Twenty-Nine 179

  Chapter Thirty 183

  Chapter Thirty-one 188

  Chapter One

  I walked through the doors of the Cathedral for yet another year of college. Life seemed to be moving in slow motion as people pushed past me, trying to get to their first class of the day. I paused outside the American History room, attempting to shake the fog that crowded my mind.

  “Will you move?” a guy said, pushing past me.

  I thought I mumbled sorry or something of the likes to him while making my way inside. Sitting toward the back of the class, my leg bounced like a crazed kangaroo under my desk. I stared out the only window in the cramped, stone classroom. Mr. Clarence Rhodes droned on about some nineteenth century British author. I wanted to pay attention. I really did. I just couldn’t though. A light throb started at my temples and I wanted nothing more than to leave the class at that moment.

  “Cara? Cara!” a voice bellowed at the front of the room.

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you with us today?”

  “Oh. Um, yeah. Sorry, Mr. Rhodes.”

  “Would you answer the question please?” he asked.

  “What question?”

  A few of my classmates snickered and my cheeks flushed.

  “Perhaps if you spent as much time staring at the chalkboard as you do outside you would know what we’re talking about,” he lectured.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, sliding down in my seat.

  “Brittany, would you like to answer the question?”

  “Of course,” the perky girl said, sitting up straight in her chair. “Washington Irving wrote The Sketch Book under the pseudonym of Geoffrey Crayon.”

  Very good. At least some people are paying attention,” the professor said, continuing on with his lecture.

  Brittany looked at me and smirked. I rolled my eyes and looked back out the window. The migraine was getting worse and I couldn’t concentrate.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Brandy whispered from behind me.

  “I just don’t feel like being in class today,” I whispered back still staring out the window.

  “Why?”

  “Because nineteenth century literature isn’t very fascinating today,” I snapped.

  I sighed heavily and let my head fall to the desk. Brandy didn’t mean anything bad, she was worried. Instant regret over being mean for no reason set in.

  “Alright, Cara, what’s wrong?”

  “I told you nothing. I just have a migraine. I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

  “Mm hmm,” she mumbled, sitting back in her seat.

  I sighed and shifted my gaze to the board. The remainder of the class seemed to drag on.

  “Alright, boys and girls, you’re free,” Mr. Rhodes said, closing the old leather book he was reading from.

  I shoved my laptop in my bag. Mr. Rhodes sat on the corner of his desk as the other students left. I smiled meekly as I walked past him.

  “Um, Miss Grey, please stay.”

  I groaned and closed my eyes. “Why?”

  “I need to speak with you. Please have a seat.” He motioned to the desk in front of his.

  “If it’s about today…”

  “Just sit.”

  I set my bag on the floor and slid into the seat. He stood in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest just staring at me. I felt so unbelievably awkward. He pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes, and stared. I felt like a grade schooler all over again. I crossed and uncrossed my ankles as we remained in awkward silence.

  “Why did you want me to stay?” I asked. “I have other classes to go to.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You’ve been acting differently.”

  “I just have a migraine. I didn’t get enough sleep and have been cramming for upcoming finals,” I said.

  “That’s it?” he asked.

  “Yeah. What else could it be?”

  “Problems at home? Boyfriend? Life changes?”

  “No, no, and no. I’m the same as I was last year and the year before. Just a migraine.”

  “How long have you been having them?”

  “They just started,” I said.

  “Well, let’s try to pay attention on Friday. Alright?” he muttered, turning away from me.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have a good afternoon, Mr. Rhodes.”

  I grabbed my bag and left the room as fast as I could. I didn’t want to give him another chance to keep me there longer. Brandy sat on the stair banister across from the room. Her long legs swung freely underneath and she arched her eyebrows at me.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “What did the great Rhodes want?”

  “I need to pay attention more,” I grumbled, walking down the stone corridor.

  She jumped off the banister, her curly blonde hair bouncing behind her as she caught up to me. We walked out of the Cathedral in silence. She chewed her bottom lip while staring at me. In the years we’d been friends, I learned that was Brandy’s tell when she was nervous about something or worried.

  “I could go for some frozen yogurt,” Brandy said suddenly.

  “Razzy?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  “You’ll miss class.”

  “So will you,” she said, smiling.

  “I could skip a class,” I muttered.

  We walked down the sidewalk shoulder to shoulder pushing through the throngs of other college students. A sudden pulse through my head made me wince. I rubbed my eyes, keeping them squeezed shut. When I opened them again the college students were gone and I was shoving my way through an ancient city. The people wore old white sheets. It looked like a massive toga party. I stopped walking and looked around. My heart slammed against my chest and my mouth went instantly dry.

  “Brandy?” I squeaked out.

  I spun in circles looking for her. She disappeared though. I’d been left alone in some remote land.

  This can’t be real. I’m supposed to be in the middle of Oakland on campus. This isn’t real.

  “What the…”

  I closed my eyes tightly, taking a few deep breaths, and opened them again. I was right back where I should ha
ve been. College students and residents crammed the sidewalk, busses blare their horns, and all the cement I’d grown accustomed to came back. A cold sweat broke out on my brow as I realized I’d been holding my breath since opening my eyes again. I blinked rapidly wondering if I’d gone crazy. Brandy was a few feet in front of me looking odd. My heart raced and I was confused.

  What was that?

  “Cara? What happened?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine,” I mumbled, catching up to her.

  “Are you sure? You’re acting really weird.”

  “I’m fine,” I reassured her, smiling.

  In the back of my mind I knew I wasn’t okay though. My mouth felt dry and my tongue seemed to crack. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

  “Do you still want yogurt?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Of course I do.”

  I only partially listened as she chattered. I kept looking around at the people, searching for any clue as to what happened. Everyone looked normal. I bumped into a tall guy who stopped in front of me as I watched a girl walking across the street.

  “Watch it,” he snapped.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, walking around him.

  “Cara, why are you so distracted?” Brandy asked, lacing her arm through mine.

  “It’s just this migraine. It’s not going away.”

  “Did you eat this morning?” she asked.

  I thought about the week old English muffin I quickly scarfed down before leaving the house at eight. “Yeah.”

  “Hmm, well maybe you’re just hungry.”

  “Maybe,” I said, opening the door to the frozen yogurt shop.

  I got my yogurt and sat at a back table.

  “Are you excited?”

  “About what?”

  “The gala of course!”

  I sighed heavily, I had forgotten about the gala our fathers’ firm threw every year. “I suppose.”

  “Who are you taking?”

  “Nobody as of now,” I said, taking a bite of raspberry flavored yogurt.

  “Why? The gala is next month!”

  “I know. I don’t know if I want to take anyone,” I told her.

  “What about Logan?”

  “What about him?” I asked.

  “Don’t you like him?”

  “Yeah, he’s alright.”

  “Ask him!” Brandy said.

  “Eh, I don’t know.”

  I finished my yogurt in silence as she went into detail about the costume she found.

  Why is it always a costume ball? I cringed thinking about the previous costumes my mother had found for me. I was determined to find my own this year.

  “Are you going to Roman Arts class tonight?” she asked as we stepped out into the cold day.

  “No, I’m skipping. My head is pounding. I think I’m just going to go home and to bed.”

  “Do you want me to take you?” she asked.

  “Nah, I’ll be fine,” I said, waving and walking down the street toward the parking lot.

  I kept my eyes down afraid if I looked up I’d be pushing through another throng of people wearing togas.

  Chapter Two

  My eyes snapped open and I sat up in bed looking around. Sweat beaded on my forehead and my chest heaved with my heavy breathing. My throat felt like sand from the Sahara desert poured down. Looking around the room through bleary eyes, I settled against the pillows.

  “It was a nightmare,” I mumbled, settling back on my pillows.

  I turned to my side, unable to get the horrific dream out of my mind. The beautiful woman’s lifeless face stared up at me. Blood trickled from her red lips as her eyes glazed over. The tall, terrifying man stood over her with a dagger laughing. I don’t know why it affected me so much that the dream woman was dead, but she looked so familiar. I stroked her soft, brown hair while my tears fell on her flawless face. I wiped my eyes as ludicrous as it was that I cried over a dream. My head throbbed. The dull pain started behind my eyes and radiated around my brain. My life changed during that frigid winter when the migraines started. I thought they were from pulling all-nighters and cramming for finals, but boy was I wrong. I got out of bed and headed for my desk. I switched on the little lamp that rested on the corner and stared at the mess that lay before me. My desk was covered in papers from my English lit classes. Notebooks and random historical novels the professor pushed on us were scattered about. My laptop screen had neon pink and blue post-it notes all around the edges. I had to write a novel for my creative writing class in order to pass and I hadn’t even started. It was due in two months.

  I’m insane for wanting to be an English Lit major. What was I thinking?

  I turned on the computer and watched as my cat popped up. His sleeping face stared out at me while the living one climbed on my lap, curling up and purring as I attempted to work. The computer screen blurred and the excruciating throb sent pulse waves throughout my head. It felt like tiny little men pounded away at my brain. I closed my eyes, pressed my finger-tips into my temples, and rubbed them slowly. The pain refused to go away.

  "Time to move, Baxter," I said to the reluctant feline.

  I made the difficult trip to my bathroom hoping something in there would help. Digging around in the medicine cabinet, I found a bottle of aspirin. The migraine made my vision blurry and the pain increased with each passing moment. I grabbed the tall, white bottle of pills and fought with the cap; trying desperately to pop off the top.

  Stupid child proof caps!

  I banged it off the edge of the counter and for a split second it rained white pills. I sighed heavily and grabbed two of the tablets off the floor. Tossing them in my mouth, I slid to the cool linoleum below and sat there waiting for the pain to subside. Instead it looked like everything in the room turned to a swirling mess. I scrambled to my feet as fast as I could and stumbled back to my desk. Opening one eye, I saw half of my neighbor’s snowy haven and half stone steps leading to an ancient temple. I started to panic. My stomach heaved as my hand slipped on the desk.

  Well that's a new symptom. There's something wrong with me.

  Blackness crept in and I could feel my body falling to the floor. I’m not sure how long I was down for, but when I opened my eyes I was no longer sitting at my desk. I clambered to my feet and realized I stood at the entrance of a temple. I blinked a few times and pinched my arm

  Perhaps I’m a daydreaming time traveler. Oh come on, Cara! That is beyond ridiculous. You have an active imagination. Yeah, that’s it. Nothing more than an overactive imagination.

  “This is not real. It can’t be,” I said out loud to myself.

  I searched desperately for a snow covered house, for the woods, for anything familiar. There were no signs of snow anywhere though. In fact, it was hot. Really hot. The clearest blue water and a beautiful, cloudless sky above lay ahead of me. The people hustling up and down the stairs were draped in weird, colorful bed sheets.

  "Hey, you!" I ran up the stairs after a tall, white haired man who just walked faster to get away from me.

  Rude.

  "Excuse me!" I walked down a few steps hurrying after a dark haired woman who wouldn’t even look at me.

  What the…

  “Will someone talk to me?" I yelled, standing in the middle of the crowd, but nobody listened.

  Hell, nobody even bothered to look at me; at least straight at me. I managed to get a few disapproving sideways glances from a few people. They looked at me like I sprouted a second head and turned purple. I stood there screaming at the top of my lungs. Nobody stopped. Nobody paid attention. Nobody cared.

  Then she emerged from the temple behind me. Exceedingly beautiful with piercing gray eyes set beneath long lashes, and curly brown hair which framed her porcelain face. She had such a warm and comforting smile. All of my uneasiness vanished and the butterflies in my stomach settled by her mere presence. I felt so safe and secure being near her.

  Confusion overwhelmed my every thought though. I stared like a s
cared child hoping for guidance from her mother. There was so much I wanted to ask, but didn’t know where to start or where my absent voice ventured.

  “You will understand in time, my daughter,” she said, even though I never asked a question.

  Before I thought of something to say a little girl stopped in front of me and smiled while holding up a rose. Everything felt as though it were in slow motion as I knelt down to take the flower from the child.

  She wrapped her chubby little arms around my neck. “Thank you, Goddess.”

  She giggled and skipped to catch up to her mother. Her mother smiled and waved to me. My arm felt weak as I lifted it to wave back staying in my fixed position not wanting to move. It felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. The woman, who called me daughter, put her soft, delicate hand on my shoulder. I stood looking from her to the scene in front of the building.

  Goddess? Me? Definitely the weirdest daydream I ever had.

  I watched as more people walked past us holding baskets of fruits, vegetables, breads, and clothing. A few stopped and placed their loads at our feet while bowing. Others, though, avoided eye contact all together. I looked up from the offerings and I could see two other smaller temples. Of all the places I vacationed at with my parents, none were quite as beautiful as the city that lay beyond the hill where I stood. I never before saw a place quite like it.

  The visions always left me with a sense of sadness. They never became clearer, never changed, and I never found out why I was there or where I was exactly. It was always the same place, the same people, and the same weird clothes. I lost it. I sank to the steps sobbing. All I wanted was for this all to go away and it never did. What was worse, nobody knew about it. I was completely alone in my lunacy.

  “Don’t cry,” the beautiful woman whispered to me.

  “What?” I sniffed while wiping my eyes.

  “Don’t cry. It will make you appear weak to them,” she said.

  “Appear weak to whom? Who are you?” I asked, clambering to my feet.

  “To the people. They will see you as weak, and inferior. Don’t cry.”

  “Where am I?”

  “All in due time.” She smiled, turned and walked up the stairs.

  “What does that even mean? What in due time? I am so confused!”