Amphitrite (Natalie Bartley)

Staff Writer Natalie Bartley is a 32-year-old author from Oshawa, Canada. She hopes to one day open her own Pagan store with her partner. Natalie has been writing for most of her teenage and adult life but has only recently started putting those stories out to the world. Natalie’s faith as a polytheistic witch leads her to many different storylines that involve the gods around her. Her first book, Love and Pain in Zion, was a labour of love and heartbreak, and it took her many years to complete it. She lives with her partner and step-son in Oshawa and is also completing her clergy status with the Correllian Nativist Tradition.

The Staycation I Needed

“PheePhee, I understand that more than you know, the need to run, to travel, to see the wild, to be the wild again. You missed so much while you were away. You need to take the time to see it all again, to truly appreciate this world you are walking in again.”

Closing Time

We danced, the song lulling me into a sense of security. Or maybe it was Dion’s arms, but something was making this night better than it had been, and I was grateful. I knew that the memories would resurface about what was discussed, what happened, what was broken. But for now, all I needed, all I wanted, was him.

Welcome to the Party

Hours later, when they were through, I turned and looked in the mirror and was astounded. I looked…well, I looked regal. The only thing missing was my old diadem, but I had left that in Atlantis, as was proper. I stood slowly and looked around. The stylists had gone, but Mathieu remained. “You’re beautiful, my lady,” he said softly.

Dear Diary

Look at me. I’ve turned into a sappy romantic bitch. “Love me, or I’ll die.” Ugh, I can’t even look at myself right now. And yet, it’s how I feel. Like Dionysos is my future, and I can’t shake it. I don’t want to shake it.

Girls Night In

“Of course, people knew you were missing, Amph. You told them you were heading home, then no one hears from you, and a hurricane breaks in the Pacific.” I nodded sadly as Alessa continued. “Wait, you said we. Who is we?”

Maelstrom: Rome 44 BCE, Part III

As my last bit of essence became one with the sea around me, I felt power reaching out from the golden net, almost like it knew someone was escaping. It rippled, and in that ripple, a pulse of magic was sent out, disrupting my transition. I lost my sense of self, and the tenuous binding that held the parts of my being together shattered.

Maelstrom, Part II: The Abyss

Why Rome? Why did I head to Rome, and why didn’t I return? The question was vexing me, and I turned from the figures haunting me as I tried to suss it out. I don’t think they liked it too much that I wasn’t paying attention to them, and the figures started to circle me, chanting that I wasn’t worthy, I wasn’t good enough, I was barely a goddess.

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