Rise of the Goddess (****All proceeds from the Rise of the Goddess anthology will go to benefit the Elliott Public Library**** Book 1) Read online

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, including photocopying, recording, or transmitted by any means without written consent of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, establishments, names, companies, organizations and events were created by the author. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events, companies or organizations is coincidental.

  Published by Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing

  Text Copyright 2014 held by CHBB Publishing and the Individual Authors

  Edited by Catherine Stovall

  Pre-edits for A Goddess’s Revenge and The Cast Iron Skillet by Nancy Medina

  Cover Art by Dave J. Ford

  Table of Contents

  Warrior Goddess ….. Rebecca Poole

  Down came the Queen of Heaven ….. Aubrey Diamant

  Bia ….. Samantha Ketteman

  Carmaterdea ….. Sinead MacDughlas

  Goddess of My Heart ….. Michael Cross

  Her ….. Rebecca Poole

  A Goddess’s Revenge ….. Catherine Stovall

  Love, Lust, Beauty ….. Jackie McMahon

  Hunting the Dark ….. Marion C. Lanier

  Mother of Monsters ….. Andrea L. Staum

  Goddess Touched ….. Elizabeth A. Lance

  The Cast Iron Skillet ….. Shebat Legion

  The Weaver ….. Zoe Adams

  Shield of Light ….. Beth W. Patterson

  Beautiful Secrets of the Sea ….. Jackie McMahon

  Vanquish ….. Mariana Thorn

  Falling For You ….. Cecilia Clark

  Rise of the Goddess Anthology

  Divine Awakenings

  Warrior Goddess by Rebecca Poole

  Preface

  Nestled in the small town of Elliott, IA, the public library seems an unassuming place. However, inside this little building, another tale is told. A world of books exists here to help carry the residents of Elliott beyond the borders of their small town and off to magical places. There is even a special shelf designed specifically for the many independent authors from around the world who love and cherish the Elliott Library and its vivacious librarian, Ada McEwan.

  In times when the nation is suffering under the pressures of an economical decline, the Elliott Library has faced financial struggles. It is because of this, and the desire to continue to provide all citizens with the joy of reading, that the Rise of the Goddess anthology was born. In order to help support this cherished institution and women like Mrs. McEwan who struggle to keep the magic of reading alive, fourteen authors and three artists have come together to create a powerful collection of stories and art and are graciously donating all proceeds to the Elliott Public Library.

  Down came the Queen of Heaven

  By Aubrey Diamant

  Orange fire light danced with shadows, intertwining upon the white plastered wall of the temple hall. The air was heavily fragrant with burning libanon smoke. A gathering of worshippers sat at the feet of a wise old woman, the elder prophetess of the temple. She told the tale of the long ago time when there had been a terrible suffering in their land. A time of great cruelty upon the Earth, when the Gods and Goddesses had woefully turned their hearts away from mankind.

  Her voice cracked as she spoke the very words handed down to her from the ancient prophetesses of the past generations. The crone raised a fist in the air, screaming in a pantomime fury as the others had before her. The eyes of the children widened as they clung to their mothers in fright.

  The old woman spoke again, telling her story. “You think I am weak and must obey you?" her voice cried out as if she were the Goddess herself.

  "Glorious Nicasia cried out against the God Magnes while raising her scythe above her head. She turned not a quiet rage upon the Great God, but one of thunder and hot blood."

  The worshippers all shuddered in fear, although they had been told the story many a time.

  "Who dare strike against their own Sovereign God?" the story continued as the Crone spoke as if she were the Goddess herself raging against God Magnes. "You have forgotten the greatest God is not one who seeks sacrifices, but is sacrificed!" she shouted louder, so loudly the walls seemed to vibrate around them as a wind whipped the fire, dancing it higher.

  Her voice fell deep, emulating the God Magnes, "Who are you to make war with me? I am your God, woman. Now beg for my forgiveness and grieve for the corpse of your consort. I will perhaps then allow you to return to the Heavens, you lowly creature.”

  The Crone continued, “The great God who had smiled and mocked our Beloved Queen of Heaven Nicasia was laughing; laughing over the crumpled body of Nicasia's lover, Caius, the fortunate mortal; our brethren. Magnes had not had the chance to find his smile fallen, as his head cleaved from his neck fell at her blessed feet!"

  Another shout came from the prophetess to shake the heavens with fear. The old woman leaned her pale withered face forward, looking into the eyes of the trembling children, saying slowly in the Goddesses voice, "I beg to no God. Our Most High and holy Queen said picking up the head of fallen Magnes, his dark blood pooling onto the earth."

  A novice priestess, a small girl with dark ebony hair and very dark eyes, came forward to the crone without fear. She wore a thin golden dress and no sandals. "Dearest Elder, tell the tale again. Look to the hall; behold pilgrims have arrived from far to hear you speak of her," she said to the elder Priestess with no fear or trembling to her voice as she pointed out the arrival of a fresh gathering of believers from afar into the main hall of the temple.

  The old Crone smiled, and with head held high, began her tale again for all to hear. "It was a time of great cold and suffering. A time of punishment for mankind at the hands of Great God Magnes, when our cries for help went unheard by all the others, save for one little vegetation goddess, Nicasia. She listened with her heart." As the shadows and fire light continued their movement across the walls, the tale came alive.

  *****

  There is a palace gate where the clouds and heavens meet as the sun descends setting to fire the light of the dying day. The gate, kept shut, opens, revealing the realm of the Gods to the realm of the Mortals. Swathed in aureate light and regal golden robes, in her left hand a scythe, in the other seeds for a plentiful harvest, Nicasia, Goddess of Earth stands before the open gate.

  Winter threatened to wither the world too soon, and kept from intervening, Nicasia had been shut up in her kingdom in the heavens by the Great God Magnes. Mortals below in the realm of Earth that she had blessed with rains, rich soil and a bounty of crops would suffer if she obeyed the exile imposed on her. She, among the other Gods and Goddesses had always cared for the mortals, fed them, gave them shelter, healthy children, good luck, and love. Under threat of exile to purgatory all sacred immortals in the heavens were forced to withdraw their support for mankind.

  The Great God, in his unjust rage sought to punish the mortals for failing to worship him more fervently, not sacrificing their children in his temples and giving him an abundance of blood offerings to slake his thirst. He would instead sacrifice their children for them by starvation, violent weather and terrible cold. The other Gods and Goddesses, terrified, would not intervene, for great fear of loss of their kingdoms.

  "Such cowards my siblings are, such fools to prize the gold in heaven above the lives of th
e good mortals who serve us. These are not slaves to be killed on a whim, they are those who support the heavens, and we should not sacrifice them in the name of a single God's arrogance," the lone Goddess said to herself, as she bravely forged past the gate, disobeying her elder God and breaking exile.

  Nicasia was without fear or regret and full of love for humanity. Walking further and further through the clouded fields of Elysium, she stepped upon clouds which grew thinner and thinner beneath her bare feet. She fell, suddenly tumbling from the heavens towards the earth. With no wings to make her fly, no birds she could call to lift her up, nor her brother the God of air to catch her. Nicasia descended from the sky like a shimmering white star across the pale, bluish blackness of twilight.

  Still immortal, and lacking the frailties of mortals, Nicasia landed on a field of wheat, softening the blow. "The earth is so cold, so dark," she said, climbing up to her feet. Her gown was thin, and she had no cloak to offer comfort from the chill. The wheat field around her was dying, beginning to grow lean as its growth was stunted. "There is not enough grain to feed neither mouse nor man." She touched the wheat stalks and the grain swelled, growing hearty in her hand.

  The farm and field which she had come to was tended by a young mortal, Caius. He was known to her, she had seen him giving sacrifice and praying at her Temple. There was no man better of heart; the fields he ploughed and tended grew food enough for him as well as several neighbouring families. He kept only enough for his own needs, and never refused a beggar who asked for a meal. No matter how lean his field was, nor close to famine he was, he gave to those who asked. Nicasia had love in her heart for Caius, which had brought her there.

  As Nicasia walked through the field, running her hands through the thin stalks, they fattened with grain, bursting with life anew. When the sun rose in the morning it would be full and ready to harvest. After she had walked every acre, she lay down to sleep in a shelter of wheat stalks. The cold of night was terrible, the darkness dreadful and her sleep fitful.

  Warmth covered her naked body, and she no longer felt the cold, but the darkness remained. Nicasia opened her eyes to find she was not out in the field any longer. She lay on a pelt of sheep's wool on the floor of a small house, in front of the hearth. Her gown, cold and damp from the near dawn dew, was hung up and drying by the fireside. The fire was comforting, however small it was, the coals a dark glowing ember keeping the room warm and dry.

  Not far from her, lying on the bare floor was Caius. No blanket to cover his nakedness, nothing of comfort as he had given it to her. He even lay farther from the fire so she would have the heat for her relief. Nicasia rose from her bed and went to the sleeping Caius. He was a youth of firm body, skin darkened by days in the sun working his fields, his hands dirty and rough from his life of heavy toil for others. His face was beautiful and saddened from the loss of his family years before. Suffering had been his only reward in life, but he had never allowed it to ruin his good heart, he only continued to sacrifice.

  She laid her arms about him, his cool skin against her warmth, "Wake Caius," she whispered. He stirred, and awakening looked at her with astonishment in his dark eyes.

  "I thought you a beggar, why have you placed me in your embrace, young woman?" He pushed her away. "You were cold, and could die out there if I left you. I was only being kind to you."

  "I love you, Caius," she said to him, "Do you not understand I am no beggar, but—"

  "You know my name? How can you love me? I have never met you."

  "I know of your name, of your kindness, it has drawn me here to you. I am no beggar, for if you look at your field as the sun rises, you will see I have returned your kindness with a reward. Your field is ready for harvest."

  "How can that be? The field was thin and dying, the cold damp has yielded the grain to mold. I cannot harvest that poor crop."

  "Do you believe that your prayers to Nicasia would be answered?"

  "I pray, but there has been no relief, Nicasia and the others have left us to starve." He frowned, "The Gods have failed us."

  "Come the dawn I will prove you wrong," she replied.

  Caius laughed for a moment. "Yes, go ahead and prove me wrong. If the field is ready for harvest, I will marry you and praise the Gods for helping us."

  "No need to praise the Gods, well, you may praise Nicasia."

  "Then I shall. I will be forever devoted to Nicasia if she keeps me from starving this long winter to come."

  "Now, the sun rise has not yet happened, come here to my bed," Nicasia said to Caius, pulling him back to the sheep's pelt bedding.

  As she kissed him, Caius turned away. His hands which had been hotly against her skin withdrew. "I am poor, unwashed and too dirty to touch such a beautiful body as yours," he said full of shame.

  "Your hands and body are of the earth, and mine of heaven," she said, taking his hands and putting them back upon her body. "No need for shame, you are the one I love."

  As the sun rose, Nicasia and Caius worshipped at the living flesh altar of the Goddess of Love, celebrated the body God of Lust. The embers of the fire cooled as the song of the morning birds sang out to the sun ascending the sky. After some time, Nicasia woke, and found Caius was not beside her. She hurried to dress, and taking her scythe with her, left the little house and ventured to the fields.

  Caius was busy working, happily harvesting the wheat. Neighbours joined him, gleaning grain that had spilled. There were people everywhere, they felt not the cold, but joy. The workers of the field sang songs in praise Nicasia, a beautiful sound of all the voices joined together in holy chorus.

  Caius left his work and came to Nicasia, he picked her up in his arms and held her. “We will not starve, the people shall be fed. Thank you, thank you Nicasia." He let her down and knelt before her.

  "You believe I am the Goddess Nicasia?" she said amused.

  "I believe, and I know. I am thoroughly yours, my beloved Goddess."

  "Then be my husband, I love you Caius, be my consort."

  Caius opened his mouth to speak, to accept her offer, when suddenly his body jerked in a flash of light and a roar of thunderous energy. Caius fell dead at her feet, struck by a lightning bolt sent from Great God Magnes. The workers in the field fled screaming towards the temple of Magnes, repentant and frightened.

  "Do not flee! Do not be scared!" she cried out through the tears. They were not tears of sadness, but tears of rage. "I fear not Magnes, let him come and see what he has wrought!" she shouted to the suddenly grey-black heavens.

  Magnes appeared before her, he was near a giant, standing tall before her. Dressed in a purple tunic, a wreath of lightning cracked upon his head as his crown, His eyes were the colour of fire, his skin the pale white-blue of the sky. "See what comes of disobeying me? Your consort is dead. I should remove your immortality and let you die with the rest here. Mortality should be your punishment."

  "Punishment? Why should I be punished? I have done good here, it is you who have done harm. The mortals flee in terror and horror of you. You are less their creator and more their annihilator. Not a kindly father, but a cold hearted murderer. Why so? None other reason than your own petty needs and blood thirst. If you believe you can scare me and make me break to your will by threatening me with mortality, you are mistaken."

  "Have you no fear, or have you no brains?" he laughed at her.

  Nicasia took her scythe from the ground. "I should ask the same of you!"

  He laughed with arrogance, amused at what he had done, smiling at what he would do.

  "You think I am weak and must obey you?" Nicasia raised her scythe, which had only ever been used for harvesting, above her head. "Magnes, you have forgotten the greatest God is not one who seeks sacrifices, but is sacrificed!"

  "Who are you to make war with me? I am your God, woman. Now beg for my forgiveness and grieve for the corpse of your consort. I will perhaps then allow you to return to the Heavens you lowly creature." The great God who had smiled and mocked
her, laughing over the crumpled body of Nicasia's lover, had not a chance to find his smile fallen before his head was cleaved from his neck fell at her feet.

  "I beg to no god," she said, picking up Magnes head as blood pooled onto the earth, spilling over her feet and soaking the hem of her gown.

  *****

  The temple was deathly quiet, as all held their breath once again. The old Prophetess rested her voice for the moment, weary with age and the fatigue of telling her tale weighing on her old bones. She lifted her eyes to heaven and smiled.

  "With the death of Magnes the grey sky faded, the blueness returned, and the cold was chased away. Nicasia reached for and stole the crown of Magnes from his discarded head, thus crowing herself in glory. She became the Queen of Heaven by winning Magnes's throne and crown. Gathering Caius in her arms, she ascended high into the sky, back to the palace gate, where the realms of the Gods and the sky meet, to claim her throne as the most high. The Gods and Goddesses welcomed, but also feared her as their ruler. She would reign over them, over the earth and mortals as she does to this day and eternity with her consort, a restored Caius, by her side. Together, they received their rewards for their sacrifices made for mankind.

  “This temple stands in her honour and as long as it stands, the times of hunger and ritual killings will never return."

  The prophetess was helped from the stool she sat on by the little barefoot girl in the golden dress. They walked further into the temple, to the bed chambers of the Priestesses. Having told her tale of Nicasia, passing it on to the children and young women, the old woman could sleep.

  The End.

  Bia

  Samantha Ketteman

  Bia stormed through the massive, black marble hallway adorned with family photos and priceless treasures, smashing the statuettes and busts with her powers as she went. What were the three of them thinking! She couldn’t believe her sister and brothers had actually gone and done it. Her one chance at happiness had been ruined, thanks to Nike, Kratos, and Zelos. The clicking of her heels on the shiny black floor echoed against the walls. She was livid, and those three were going to hear about it. What the hell were Victory, Strength, and Rivalry thinking when they thought to pick a war with me?