Cora
CORA: Rise of the Fallen Goddess
A. L. Hawke
Copyright © 2021 by A.L. Hawke
* * *
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by reviewers who may quote brief passages for a review. For permission requests, please write to:
* * *
A.L. Hawke
P.O. Box 2253
Mission Viejo, CA 92690
Email correspondence: contact@alhawke.com
* * *
ISBN: 9781953919045
ISBN: 9781953919038 (ebook)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2021935350
* * *
This is a work of fiction. It comes directly from the author’s imagination. The book also includes fictitious names, characters, places, and incidents. Any public names are used solely for creative purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to companies, institutions, or locales is entirely coincidental or accidental.
* * *
Line edited by Stephanie Ward
Proofread by Faith Williams
Cover Design © 2021 by Sean Counley
* * *
Published in the United States of America in May, 2021
* * *
Learn more about A.L. Hawke at www.alhawke.com
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. Cora
2. A Goddess
3. The Fire Queen Of Azure
4. The Water Barrel
5. The Red Rose
6. The Guests
7. Soup
8. The Dark Tower
9. The Gift
10. The Stables
11. Sneaking Around
12. The Stygian Hole
13. Ice
14. The Messenger At The Cave
15. The Ledge
16. The Outside Beneath The Ground
17. Engel
18. The Styx
19. The Beast
20. Tartarus
21. Hades
22. The Reunion
23. Nyx
24. The Replica
25. Ravens
26. Darkness
27. The Firebird
28. General Of The Mandrigel
29. The Great Quake
30. Dealing With The Devil
31. Good-Bye
Acknowledgments
Parting Words
About the Author
Also by A.L. Hawke
1
Cora
Wind rushed against Nephrea’s cheeks, flowing along her long, black hair under her scarlet helm as she swooped up and down over the purple sandy beaches of Azure Blue. Looking back, she could make out glimpses of her crystal palace, now a reflecting diamond shimmering blue and green over amethyst grass. She faced forward and squinted against a rush of air. After another buck and rise from her unicorn, the blue-green sky cleared and the turquoise sun changed to yellow. Her heart quickened, as it always did when the color of the sun changed. It told her she was leaving home and embarking on a journey. As she dipped her white-winged unicorn closer to the rocks and waves near the shore, mist sprayed over her while the water sped below her feet. But Antilus bucked up away from the sea.
“Oh, Antilus,” Nephrea said, laughing, petting the feathery side of her unicorn. “Come on, girl. Take me closer. I want to feel the waves.”
The water crashed upon jagged boulders, and she was still close enough to feel the spray over her lower legs and sandals. She was also close to Ambitus Pyramid. The great gilded wall was nearly an arm’s distance away from her right hand. Her unicorn bucked up again.
“Just a little lower, girl?” Nephrea asked with a chuckle. “Huh? Please.”
Antilus obliged and dipped down closer to the water, but Nephrea felt the unicorn resist.
“You’re no fun,” she said, frowning. “Fine.”
She leaned back and Antilus neighed. Nephrea felt her unicorn’s muscles tighten under the leather pteruges of her red armor as the unicorn shot up toward the blue sky.
Nephrea hardly needed a compass. The giant golden pyramid bordered everything along the northern shore. So tall it was that myth claimed the structure could be seen from the Greek empire in the north to its miniature model in Kher Neter of Egypt in the south. These pyramids bordered the antediluvian world, marking the site of the future great empires of man (so prophesied the young grain goddess).
Nephrea shielded her eyes as the sun’s rays reflected off the pyramid wall. She passed the structure, skimming Antilus close to the water once more. Then she rushed out toward the open blue sea. She cocked her head back but, from this far out, she could no longer make out her beloved blue lands.
“Keep strong, Antilus.” She petted its feathery hide. “It’s a long flight, but I’ll reward you when we touch down.”
It was near twilight when she finally spotted the isles of Hellena. Nephrea soared past beaches of yellow sand and over valleys of rocks, then grass fields, and along cliffs overlooking beaches, until she located the ruins of a temple with white marble columns. These ruins sat on one of the tallest cliffs, overlooking the sea. Doric columns were cracked and worn, and there was no ceiling. The marble ground, though glistening white as it reflected the sun, had foliage and even trees growing through the cracks. And at the farthest end, there was a pile of damaged marble atop a few steps, likely remnants of a statue of the gods.
She landed by the center of the rectangular marble floor and dismounted from her unicorn. Then, standing on the hilltop, she removed her red helm, tucked it under her arm, and gazed at the beach and sea below. The sun was dipping below the horizon, shining a beautiful orange-red.
“Lovely,” Nephrea said with a sigh. She brushed her long hair back. “So lovely.”
Antilus nickered.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” She turned back to her unicorn and pulled out a leather sack strapped over Antilus’s back. Then she laid a hand under her weary unicorn’s mouth, feeding her oats. “You’ve served your queen well.” And she chuckled and kissed her unicorn’s head.
She returned to the edge of the ancient temple and stepped down three dusty marble steps. She crouched down and picked up some of the soil beside her sandals, marveling at the cream color of dust as it poured through her blue-tinged fingers. Then she sighed. “Last I touched this was with Amenhotep. Remember, Antilus? Oh, how I miss him. How long has it been?”
The unicorn snorted. Nephrea chuckled.
Attica was a barren land. It consisted of rolling hills with a few open grass fields with trees as far as the eye could see. There certainly were no human settlements. She walked, in awe of the alien landscape, taking in the strange dark-brown, green, and yellow of the surrounding foliage, so different from the blue and green of Azure Blue.
She headed to a field of tall wild grass, which led into denser woods. In the forest, she found a large sheltering willow by a small trickling brook. Water flowed gently over round stones and boulders by her side. It was tranquil and would do nicely for the evening. So she pulled more things from her leather sack—tinder and stones—and gathered some branches and twigs from shrubs under the trees to start a fire. Antilus lay down on her side beside the large tree trunk, so tired from her long flight. The queen ran her blue-tinged palm along her unicorn’s soft hide. But as Antilus closed her eyes, Nephrea crept away, hunting for her supper while it was still twilight.
She checked her taut bow and ran her finger along some quills. She was a legendary archer and had won numerous competitions. And after the games, in the Amazon war she had slain a great many more men. Tonight, she caught a rabbit along
a brook. Then she returned to her sleeping unicorn, skinned the rabbit, and skewered it over the fire. She ate under moonlight, leaning against Antilus and staring up at the night sky. Night outside her blue world was no different than in Attica—with the same stars in the dark sky—and no less beautiful. She stared up at the tiny lights while the crickets chirped until her eyes grew heavy.
The sunrise was as striking as the sunset. Fiery red and yellow light shone through the trees and awoke her. “Oh, how I wish I could show Jaida this,” Nephrea said in awe, blinking her eyes at the rising sun. Then she put her hand to her mouth. Antilus was still asleep. Slowly and quietly, she crept away from her unicorn.
She returned to the marble temple overlooking the beach, looking for higher ground to search the fields below again. She was looking for a settlement, perhaps more columns—something that gave a hint of the home of the grain goddess—but all she saw was the ocean on one side and rolling hills and forests on the other. She knew the gods were out there somewhere. According to her cartographers, these ruins marked the home of Demeter and her daughter. But they never said where.
She walked far, following a dirt path along the cliff over the shore. The dirt trail seemed man-made. It stood high, enabling her to gaze upon the open sea. But after hours of searching, there was no sign of the goddesses. She began to wonder if she would ever find them.
She returned to her makeshift camp, frustrated.
Then she recoiled back in shock. Her unicorn was gone.
“Antilus?”
She looked up at the blue sky to check the position of the sun. It was almost midday.
“Antilus? Antilus!”
She ran back and forth along the path. After running in circles, she cursed at herself.
Stupid! I’m so stupid! Why did I leave her alone?
But she spotted hoofprints beside dirt, heading deeper into a thicket nearby. She painstakingly followed broken twigs and leaves, which led her through orchards and open fields and back up toward the cliffs along the shore.
She approached an open grassy field covered with olive trees along a hillside. In the center of the trees, she found her unicorn. But Antilus wasn’t alone. A girl with long, flowing golden hair was feeding her unicorn grass and petting her. The girl had pale white skin and pretty features. She wore simple, almost peasant, clothes: a loose brown peplos down to her ankles and sandals. She jumped in fright at the sight of Nephrea. It might have been because Nephrea wore the red armor of her people.
“Step away from her,” Nephrea said.
The girl just blinked her bright-blue eyes.
“Away.” Nephrea gave a dismissive wave. “Away,” she repeated and, out of habit, she touched the hilt of her sword.
The girl narrowed her eyes. “This is from Uncle,” objected the girl, shaking her head. “A monokera. She has wings.”
“Away.” Nephrea walked up and pulled the unicorn’s head from the girl. “Keep your hands off her.”
“What’s her name?”
Nephrea mounted her unicorn. Then she looked down at the girl in amusement. “Antilus.”
“Pretty. But not a pretty name. Antilus? That’s not pretty. Not pretty like you.” Then the girl brought her hands to her mouth and laughed. “Your hands are blue. And your ears are a bit pointy. You look funny. You have that stupid nymph color.” The girl giggled. “Napean? A nymph from Napea, right? Your lands are Azure Blue. Like your hands?”
“I am the Queen of Azure,” Nephrea said proudly. Though it sounded weird saying it. She had only been crowned a few days ago. “I’m Nephrea. Queen Nephratee of Azure. I am Napean.”
“You’re a nymph,” the girl said. “A queen?” She put a finger to her chin. “Hmm … you must be the princess I saved for Mother.” Then she went back to touching Antilus’s soft feathers and humming.
Nephrea stared down, but the girl was mesmerized by her unicorn.
Persephone? Could it be? She looks so young.
“Are you the young grain goddess?” asked Nephrea.
The girl ignored her, touching the white feathers and wings of Antilus. “So pretty. You’re so beautiful. I will have you as my own. I will call you Arion. That’s a much nicer name than Antilus. You and I shall fly together all over Mother’s fields. How do you like that, girl? Hmm? Won’t that be fun? What a treasure to find such a lovely horse.” And she giggled.
“Unicorn.”
“Whatever.” The girl rolled her eyes.
“Are you the young grain goddess?” repeated Nephrea. “Persephone? I need to speak with your mother.”
“If Mother’d permit me, I could have had you long ago,” said the girl to Antilus, pouting. “But no matter. This dumb nymph brought you. A nice offering. Such a wonderful creature. You shall be mine, Arion.”
“Are you Persephone?”
She’d better be. She started infernally humming again while brushing the unicorn’s hide. It was infuriating. Nephrea sat proudly on her unicorn—a queen, a general—and this girl was acting like she wasn’t even there.
The girl finally looked up at Nephrea, furrowing her brow. “My name’s Cora and you talk too much.”
“Can you bring me to your mother?”
Cora looked at the unicorn and started humming again, which was really annoying.
“How rude,” the queen said with a chuckle, moving the unicorn’s head and guiding her horse a couple of steps away from the girl. “This girl seems to think your master is a bother.”
“More like my new magnificent horse should be your master,” said Cora, narrowing her eyes again. “I told you to be quiet. Now shut up, stupid nymph. I warn you. Don’t yap anymore.”
Nephrea laughed at the girl. “I am Queen Nephratee Ambrosia of Napea. A nymph? Maybe. I suppose. If that is what—”
“Arion,” Cora said, rubbing the animal’s hide again and running her fingers along the unicorn’s feathery wings. “Yes, Arion fits you nicely.” Then the girl giggled again and walked over to the front of the unicorn. She touched the tip of the horn atop the unicorn’s head with her finger. It was white—like ivory. But when one looked at it more closely, it seemed multicolored, glistening in the sunlight. It captivated the girl as she carefully ran her hand along it. “Wait until I show you the other animals in my collection, Arion. I have a zaffre tiger. And two fairies in a cage. But no monokera. No, Mother would never permit it. Until now.” She giggled and shook with giddiness. “I’m so happy I found you. I have no creature so lovely as you.”
“She’s not yours to take.”
“If you don’t close your mouth, I’ll close it for you,” Cora snapped, losing her smile. The girl’s eyes reddened. But then she turned back and continued to brush the unicorn’s side with her fingers.
“Persephone. I have to speak with your mother. I am here to speak with Demeter. Sara. Is Sara here? I’ve traveled far. I’m from the great pyramid, south, in the distance.” Nephrea pointed. “Way over…”
Cora turned and a sudden feeling of dread struck Nephrea. The girl’s red eyes stared, and it felt as if Cora was entering her mind. Nephrea grew dizzy.
Nephrea saw a vision of death. Her mother. She witnessed the procession through the grand palace of Azure that had taken place only a fortnight ago. Hundreds of weeping nymphs had crowded into the throne room at night, waving incense and carrying torches while marching beside the white-wrapped body of her beloved mother. They marched to the steps of a raised throne, which was empty. The act was meant to show respect for the passing of the founder of the nymph kingdom. But at the time, it felt disgraceful to Nephrea. To Nephrea, the empty chair did not symbolize her mother’s power; it symbolized her subjects’ belief that the chair would never be filled. That, without her mother, there could never be another leader like her.
The image changed. Nephrea now found herself sitting on the throne, wearing a long, flowing turquoise and violet robe with a thin gold crown on her head and a false golden scepter held in her right hand. A great ceremony comme
nced, with a couple hundred of nymphs crowding the room and taking a knee before her. And another line of nymphs, the Guard, wearing red armor similar to what she wore now, standing at attention on both sides of her throne. Her friends smiled and clapped. But many others turned away or looked up in contempt. She had friends, but also staunch enemies. That had been only a few days ago.
Perhaps it was the feelings of the dissenters that made her accept this idiotic quest? Nephrea knew the exchange had been fulfilled. Her mother had died for her. How could she return?
Cora’s gaze was mesmerizing. It had caused all those memories to rush back, and it filled Nephrea with dread. Cora seemed oddly disturbed too, as if she had shared the images with her. Nephrea felt so sad, then sick. She swooned, lost her balance, and fell from her unicorn.
“You shall learn obedience, nymph!” shouted Cora. “If I have to show you, I will. If I tell you to be quiet, be quiet. Shut your mouth! If I tell you to die, die! Understand? Know your place under me!”
Everything spun. Nephrea opened her eyes, and the little girl was crouched down, staring at her with creepy bright-red eyes. The teenager looked more like a demon with her red eyes shining behind pale skin. Nephrea raised her hand, but she could barely move. She felt Cora touch her belt over her leather skirt. Then Cora drew Nephrea’s short sword from her side and pointed the tip at her neck.