The grass beneath her feet turned dry and brown. The river behind her ceased to flow, and the levels dropped dangerously low. The foundation of the great stone monument cracked and trembled. Kel was blind to the destruction around her. Her vision tunneled on the threat looming only a handful of feet away.
Vulcanus sneered as he bore down on her with his sword at the ready. Bringing the dandelion to her full lips, Kel blew gently. The storm of parachuted seeds took flight, multiplying and growing in size until they formed a great cloud of wispy florets. The arrow-shaped seeds shifted in color from deep brown to shining silver. The barbed tips were suddenly honed to the sharpest points as they spun into the advancing enemy.
The pressing army had no time to stop. Their steeds carried them into the gale force winds that wielded the unexpected weapons. The horses whinnied in surprised fear as their rider’s fell, skin punctured and ripped by the jagged seeds that sought out exposed skin. Hands, eyes, and throats were ripped open until the wind became thick with blood, and created a reddened haze.
Kel felt their deaths. Each lost life gave up its inner power to become a part of her. Her spirit grew even as her heart was stricken with hundreds of sharpened pains.
The density of the dampened air slowed the storm. The dandelion tufts shrank and glided to the gore covered ground. Their soft, feathery parachutes formed a blood-soaked blanket on the bodies of the fallen. The horses, unharmed by the maelstrom, shied and pawed the ground as they sidestepped the groaning bodies of those who still breathed. The cries of the dying could be heard for miles as the last torrents of wind carried the sound throughout the world.
Looking to where Kore laid, silent fear gleaming in his widened eyes, Kel spoke in a gentle and haunting whisper. “Rise, Warrior. Serve as witness to the end of a terrible era.”
Climbing to his feet slowly, Kore fought to stand erect against the throbbing pain that tugged at his chest muscles. Kel had turned back to the massacre before her, giving him a moment to take in the sight of a woman, no longer a girl, who had reined such terrible power.
Her light blue dress had turned nearly black up to her knees as the edges soaked up the river of crimson fluid beneath her bare feet. Her skin glowed beneath the shimmering red moisture that still hung in the air. Standing with her back stiff and her head raised, he could tell she had not yet descended the wave of power, and he shivered at the thought of what terrible things were still to come.
Despite his trepidation, the warrior went to his goddess and linked his hand with hers. He would bear witness as both friend and sword.
The great white stallion reared, his hooves slicing dangerously in the air at their approach. Kel extended her hand, palm out, and issued her command. “You are a warrior in your own right, great steed. Do not make me reconsider my choice to spare you and yours.”
The animal’s large black eyes filled with a mortal understanding of the horrors he had witnessed. The clanging of the mount’s armor as it placed its front legs back onto the ground and shook its mane, sent a shiver through Kore. Recollections of the terrible storm filled his mind.
Seeing that the warhorse had backed down, Kel proceeded to her intended target.
Vulcanus lay moaning in torment close to where his steed watched with shivering flanks. His mangled hand still desperately gripped the hilt of his sword despite a missing digit and many deep lacerations. One of the fruit-sized dandelion fluffs lay upon his chest like a scarlet boutonniere, its stem lodged deep within the bare flesh.
His icy blue eyes rolled toward Kel, and his lips turned down in a menacing scowl. “You may have won the battle, but you shall not win the war. This land is tainted—” The fallen god stopped to heave a rattling breath, and the slick, red shine of dark blood stained his pearl-colored teeth. “You will never wash away the tarnish I have manifested in their hearts.”
Releasing Kore’s hand, Kel knelt, disregarding the wetness as it seeped into the light fabric of her clothing. Placing her hand at the center of his chest, her palm rested in the center of the dark V. Her power throbbed around her and her eyes blazed with justified vindication.
Leaning down so her lips were only a whisper away from his, her voice became as gentle as a lover’s caress.“I shall cleanse this world so thoroughly that every name and memory of you and yours are stricken from existence. You are not even a memory.”
As she sat upright, she sent a surge of power through her hand into his chest cavity. The wounded villain arched his back, his eyes rolled until only the whites showed, and his veins bulged. The tremors came, raising his body inches off the ground each time they ricocheted through the fleshy form. Kel began to draw out the god’s essence, tasting it as if it were a subtle flavor meant to be savored on the tip of the tongue.
When the body was nothing but an empty shell, she rose and began to walk away. Leaving Kore to choose if he would follow or flee, she strode into The Keep without a backwards glance.
Always faithful, Kore gave her the space he thought she needed. He pursued her at a safe distance, despite the sinking feeling that churned in his guts. They climbed the stairwell, in utter silence, his eyes locked onto the bloody stains that marred her once beautiful dress.
Kel spent hours pacing, screaming, crying, and ranting alone in the room from which her mother had ruled. Not until she had seated herself comfortably upon the weathered throne, did her warrior come to her.
On bended knee, he bowed his head and addressed her by her title. “Goddess Kel, I beg of you to speak to me. Rather it be as your warrior or friend, I need you to tell me what is expected. I am on unfamiliar ground.”
Her voice was that of a scorned woman rather than a light-spirited girl. “Kore, my warrior, nothing has changed. Your duty is to protect, serve, and bear witness. You have done well. Soon, we will test the strength of our bond, because what is to come next will place strain on that special connection.”
He was puzzled by her words. “What do you intend to do, Kel? What more can be done? Tell me that you don’t intend to destroy them all.”He saw the power still blazing in her eyes despite the sad countenance she wore.
“Kore, my sweet warrior, you have the heart of a lion and deadly skill. Yet, you hold such faith in mortals. This darkness, this hateful poison that thrives within their veins, cannot be wiped away like dust on the mantle. Vulcanus was right, we cannot stop the spread of this disease, and there is only one cure for the wickedness of man.”
He watched as a single tear streamed down her face, turning red from the fine coating of dried blood. “Kel, what of the ones who hold true to the old ways? What of the innocent babes?”
“Even if I could limit the destruction to those who carry the spark of Vulcanus’s rancid touch, out of the handful of the pure, who would care for these children? Will you nurse the multitudes of mewling infants? Should I spare the women so that the babes may have a mother’s milk? With that matronly nourishment, the mother’s guidance will come, and where do you expect that to lead? Shall we imprison these women and use them as cattle to nurse under restraint and watched over by guards? How will the young see us then?”
Kore understood the righteousness of her words. He knew she spoke the truth. Once a race had sunk so deep into depravity, salvation could never come.
“As you wish, Goddess. I kneel to your command.”
****
Kel felt the hurt inside him, and that alone was enough to make her long for a better way. Rising up from the throne, she laid her hand on his shoulder. “Stand, Kore. Come let us cleanse the blood of the battle from our skin and our minds. We have work to do.”
They bathed in the fountain that stood in the center of The Keep. Both were grateful for the quick cycling that kept them in clean, cool water. In a rare moment of peace, Kel reflected on the friendship she had with Kore. He had battled for her since their youth, and even as it broke his heart, he was willing to stand at her side as she purged Wade.
She knew that if his heart could have ever loved
a woman, she would have been his wife. They would have been a hand-fasted pair before the war had ever begun. Kel loved the boy. For a moment, she wondered if he would lose his affection for her after she did what must be done. She hoped he could forgive her.
Rising from the pool, Kel smiled at her best friend and protector. “I am ready.”
He stood, glorious flesh gleaming with trickling drops of water, and followed her. The moon had risen in the sky, and its splendid light shined enough to light their way. They followed an old path, overgrown and mostly hidden. Using her magic to gently push the undergrowth and tree limbs away from their sky-clad bodies, they stalked through the night.
The rugged passage emerged into a small clearing. A sacred place where once the greatest magic had been created, the area was masked beneath a spell that kept both living creatures and forces of nature away. The secret hollow within the thicket of trees and brush seemed a lifeless and haunted place after being untouched for so many, many years.
The trees parted perfectly to allow the moon to beam down upon them. Using the wan light to maneuver, Kel approached the stone altar that sat in the nucleus of the circle. From a hidden alcove beneath its surface, she produced a small chest. Her face became the mask of a stranger when she opened the lid.
As she worked to prepare for the ritual, Kore guarded the entrance. The transformation from the girl he had played childhood games with to the Goddess of Wade amazed him. She had lost her softness and easy-going ways. The carefree smile he had loved so much melted away to reveal a cool and regal expression.
When the time came, she called upon him, “Kore, Warrior of Wade, Servant of the Goddess, please step forward.”
He approached the altar, eyes seeking out the tools that she had laid before him. He studied the blessed blade, the small stone bowl, and small vial of green powder. He was surprised that it took so little to destroy an entire world. Determined to prove himself, Kore raised his gaze to stare into the eyes of the stranger before him.
“Warrior, you must enter into this ceremony with a pure heart and an iron will. You must not doubt the command of your goddess. Are you prepared?” Kel prayed that he could go forth with her, but she promised herself she would understand if he could not.
Kore pulled his sword from its scabbard and raised it skyward. “I serve to live and live to serve. My will is yours to command, Goddess Kel.”
“Your pledge is worthy.” As she spoke, she fought the grateful smile that teased her lips. Bowing at the waist, but never removing her eyes from his, she showed the warrior both respect and trust, but not deference.
Kore sheathed his blade and stood silently watching as Kel set in motion the end of all they had ever known. She had used much of her power during the attack, and her first step was to replenish the well inside of her. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back so that the eerie light illuminated the framing of her face. She looked more like a dead being than a living goddess.
The rustling began in a slow circular motion through the underbrush as if something were running in the shadows. As the air moved faster, it rose higher, shaking the lower branches of the trees. The current built up around them, pressing against their bodies, and Kore feared for any living thing outside the protective ring. By the time the whirlwind had risen to encompass the forest around them, the upper-most boughs bent and twisted. The snapping sound of the limbs being torn by the cyclone echoed in the silent night.
Kel, with her face still tilted backward, opened her mouth and inhaled. The windstorm shifted, and Kore jerked his eyes to the left as an ancient elm heaved upward, roots ripping massive amounts of dirt from the ground. When his attention turned back to his goddess, he nearly fainted. The power that had been building outside the circle was now a funnel of blue energy siphoning in from the opening above them. It snapped and crackled as Kel drew it into her being.
Kore watched in horror as her body shook violently. The updraft of air pushing down through the eye of the storm lifted her upward. Her back arched as her feet dangled at the edge of the altar. The power poured down the funnel, through her open mouth, and filled her core so completely that her skin crackled. He stood still, not daring to move a muscle. One wrong shift could have dislocated the distribution of power, and his friend could have been destroyed.
Inside, he whispered words to her, the Goddess of Wade, praying that she would hear. “Enough, Kel. If you take too much, the power can consume the vessel. It will break the flesh, and all of this will have been for nothing.”
*****
Kel was lost inside a world she did not know. The void of space seemed filled with millions of living, breathing things that she could not see or hear. Kore’s voice, a small sound within the deafening howl of the storm, penetrated the barrenness. What her mind could not decipher, her heart felt. The strength of their bond helped her to seal off the drought of power, and her body slowly drifted back to the meadow floor as the tempest subsided.
Engorged with power, Kel felt as if a million volts of electricity were running through her veins. The buzzing essence pressed against the confines of bone and skin that embodied it. As Kore had warned, it began to devour the living shell. She could feel herself weaken, and the pain that surged inside her was a sharp reminder of the urgency of time.
With a quick glance at Kore’s ashen face, she prepared to finish what she had come to the sacred ground to do. Pouring the fine powder into the stone bowl, she sent a thought to ignite the substance. A small green flame rose up several inches from the rim, and the smell of sulfur wafted into the air. Kel lifted the blessed blade, and though she felt the weight, it was as if a heavy glove covered her hand. The loss of senses was another sign her body was fading too quickly.
Kore’s concern was so deep that he unintentionally projected his thoughts into her mind. For an instant, Kel saw herself through his eyes, and fear outweighed all else. Her usually voluptuous body had thinned drastically, and her skin had taken on a ghostly hue. Her eyes, despite the sparks of blue energy rolling through the pupils, looked dull and unfocused. Forcing the image away and biting down on her terror, Kel returned to the ritual.
She raised her arms above her head, gripping the silver blade with both hands. From deep within her, the song came. A melody from the days of her youth, it was the siren’s song of history and death. Forcing the abundance of magic back out of her body, it traveled up from her core, through her arms, and out of the tip of the blade.
Her voice rose and fell as she sang of the birth of Wade, filling the sky with an inky blackness. Kel spoke in the ancient tongue as she crooned out the story of how the Goddess Mother had given her world to her children and the natural progression of the past. The song was tradition. Each goddess sang it the day she inherited the ruling seat of Wade as a reminder of her past. When that goddess’s time as ruler ended, they sang it once more, adding their own history for the next goddess to know. Instead of ending on the day her mother had passed the world on to her, Kel continued.
She sang from her heart, belting out the history of her short rule. She strung the stanzas together in lilting words of grief, anger, misery, and desperation. Her verses of the tale told of her goodbyes to her parents, her awakening, the destruction of Wade through the women’s eyes, and her victory over Vulcanus. By the time she finished weaving the record of her brief reign into the Goddesses Song, the sky was an angry mass of ebony.
Lightning flashed deep within the bruised and swollen clouds, sending electricity popping over her skin. Kel began to mold the final lines, and the darkened billows spread out like an ominous field of rage. Her voice was raw and cracking as she formed the words that would seal their fate. The crippling pains sapped her physical strength until she collapsed to her knees. Her arms quivered in her effort to hold the blade above her head. The magic fed from her muscles and liquefied her organs as it fought to the surface.
Kore was there to catch her as she slumped downward. He wrapped his strong arms around her, trying to wi
ll his life force into hers. Unable to pull her from the harsh grip of the ancient rite, he could only hope that what little of himself he could give would be enough to save her. If he perished, it would be nothing, but if she was devoured by the rapture she had created, there was no hope left.
Kel drew in a shuttering breath, and tears dripped from the corners of her closed eyes. The tempo of the song had grown until she was belting out the lyrics in clipped and harsh pieces. The crescendo came and she finally stopped. Kore had just enough time to pull her into him before the deep rumbling began, and the world shook.
Blinding white light flashed, and then there was darkness.
*****
She felt the warmth of arms holding her so tightly that the embrace made her body ache. Opening her eyes, Kel found herself once more in the shadowy void. Her movements woke Kore, and having no experience with the other side, he tightened his hold on her. The only sound was of his sword being unsheathed.
Her throat burned as if she had swallowed fire. “Kore, do not fear. We are safe.”
He mashed his face against hers, and whispered, “How do you know?”
“Stop and just feel. There are no other life forces left in the realm. This . . . this was, Wade.” The confession brought sorrow, and with it, tears.
Rocking her slowly, Kore tried to offer what comfort he could. “Don’t cry, Kel. We will rebuild. We will make it whole again. Don’t cry.”
Her words were difficult to understand between the harshness of her damaged vocal chords and the uncontrollable sobs. “I don’t know. My body is broken. I don’t . . . don’t know if I have the power left to rebuild.”
Not for the first time in all of his years with her, he held the answers. “It doesn’t take power to rebuild, Kel. It only takes love.”
Kore held her close as she wept a little while longer. The feeling of her bones protruding from her shoulders was a sharp reminder of how much damage she had suffered. Just as he began to doubt his own encouragements, she unraveled herself from his embrace.
Rise of the Goddess (****All proceeds from the Rise of the Goddess anthology will go to benefit the Elliott Public Library**** Book 1) Page 10
