Author's Note: Several months ago, I ran a little contest, and the winners are featured in this chapter. They gave me permission to use their contest submissions in this story. The pieces included are "KALI : THE DESTROYER OF EVIL" by Tanya Bose from writing.com and "Magic and Madness" by _Fallxn_ from Wattpad.

Chapter 73: Impromptu Competition Waiting Room

Having thoroughly studied the map in her volunteer packet the night before, Tamara knew exactly where they needed to be and how to get there. She led Joan down wide red brick paths, past pristine lawns with perfectly manicured trees and majestic stone dormitories.

A team of teenagers wearing floppy chicken hats skipped past them. One noticed Joan and stopped, but another teammate grabbed his hand, and they got back to skipping. Apparently they had to get somewhere on time. Joan realized that any delays might cause her to be late as well and picked up her walking pace, smiling to herself and avoiding eye contact with strangers as she and Tamara hurried to a three-story brick building containing a lecture hall and numerous small classrooms.

Joan checked in with the Impromptu Competition captain's assistant and sat next to Tamara. Once everyone had arrived, the captain herself gave everyone a pep talk and a few reminders. Joan had heard most of it before, but this year, a new rule had popped up overnight. "And if anybody mentions the W-word, including team coaches and parents, you tell them to say companion instead. If they persist in using it, assess a one-point unsportsmanlike conduct penalty."

Joan itched to raise her hand and explain that she actually liked the W-word but decided not to push her luck. After all, teams never received a warning before being penalized for an F-bomb or even a minor profanity. Walt himself had probably issued this directive after thorough consideration. Besides, the organization had to maintain certain standards in order to appease sensitive groups of people. While Joan didn't like pandering to certain sensitivities, she knew the organization would do the most good by catering to the broadest audience possible. Besides, her own mother wouldn't have let her compete in Imagination of the Mind if it had a reputation for strong language.

The day started easily enough. The enormous lecture hall served as the waiting room for the Impromptu Competition, and a judge would appear in the doorway every other minute to summon a team. Meanwhile, the Impromptu Competition captain watched the room like a hawk, trading out with her assistant whenever she had to be somewhere else. Tamara busted out her bumblebee song again, and many teams came down to the podium to present their own silly songs, make armpit farts, or burp the alphabet.

One kid stared hard at Joan's nametag before yelling, "I know you! You're Kaiba's whore!"

The entire room went dead silent before Joan replied, "I'm sorry, we don't use that word here. I am Kaiba's companion. Please use companion instead of that word."

"But Kaiba likes that word," the kid said.

"What Kaiba likes doesn't matter here. I want to hear a song or a poem that you like."

"OK!" The kid leapt up and dashed to the podium. "My grandma taught me this one.

"Oh, far across the winds and the distance,
Her voice flows, so persistence,
That it reminds the new of the old,
Of the buried terror that sleeps so bold,
And as the fire flickers with red and green,
Goddess Kali lights up the power e'en.

"But if you feel the aching rush roaring down your veins,
If the world opens its heart to you anew;
Why, then let's rejoice in your pain,
And hear those ancient tales of forgotten blue.

"The story dates back to a hundred thousand years back,
When the lives used to sizzle down the rack.
A place where the serenity overflows the charisma of Mother Earth,
Where the motions of time and love gave a new birth,
The Daughter to Himalaya,
The Daughter to Mahalaya.

"But on the planes beneath;
Where the dark waters guzzled down their throats,
Where the lands were overcast with dirt and heath,
Lived the songs of evil hauling like a coat (Asuras!).

"As Devi Mahatma speaks - like the petals of uncolored dew,
From the forehead of Goddess Durga, as with the frosts that ever flew,
With the anger and vex that heats,
Hidden among the Heaven's beats.
But little did the leaves knew,
What brew in the minds of Evil, dancing with the clue.

"And so the time came,
When the Evil Gods picked up their frozen swords,
With unbeaten hearts that pledge another aim,
And their battle cry of sorrow and destruction filled their cords.

"All the Gods everywhere approached Mother Durga with distress,
I feel like it was only yesterday that they turned up hopeless
And prayed to her in solemn minds with love,
That from her forehead she drew out the beauty of dove,
Scattering them along with the strength of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva,
And so was Goddess Kali born, Anah!

"A skin as raw as it is black,
Yelling over her naked body of fire,
So cold and hungry her stare that; there's nothing it could lack,
Named her Ambika, the mother of ire.

"And with raged feet, she danced up to the battlefield,
Her burning locks down her temples like fire wields,
And slowly she crept into the darkness her foes had welcomed,
And she just danced and danced;
Till the petals of fire flew around from the scimitar she unbolted
From her bosom to the bosom of the loathed.

"The sharp cut of the weapon invited fear and blood,
As the blood-thirsty Asuras leaped onto her,
But nobody could bear her wrath of flood,
Every time she cried 'Cur'!

"Her fingers soaked in blood and unveiled hatred,
Tongue lolling as she made another attempt so sacred,
And with the sword stung deep into her villain's heart,
She drank blood so contended from her cart,
And raised her vision towards the others,
Who were running after one and the another.

"She and drank and fought,
Dancing and Dancing,
That nothing could have bought,
Her spirits to a calming.

"To stop her overwhelming anger, it called Munda and Chanda's presence,
Soon they returned with a body so bloodless and lifeless,
That the most Brave should behold his courage,
That to this day it scares to encourage,
Earned her the name of Chamunda, dark as ink,
To command the powers within a wink.

"And so her dark body flew along the battlefield,
Crushing everything to pieces,
And while the Gods up at the Heaven healed,
As their anxiety ceases.

"And to this very day, the terror sleeps,
Of the most dangerous war that still weeps,
And let us take vows on her brave name,
The will to battle a billion of a simple dame,
To restore the Heaven's Kingdom back to the Gods,
And so Goddess Kali's name remains engraved in the odds.

"Jai Maa Kali!"

Joan picked her jaw up from the floor. "Now that was amazing. High Five!"

The kid slapped her outstretched palm just as a judge called for their team. They scurried out the door with their teammates. "Bye, whore!" they called over their shoulder.

Joan bit her lip and locked eyes with the Impromptu Competition captain. The captain nodded briefly and left the room to record the W-word penalty on the team's scoresheet.

"As a reminder, please be mindful of your language while you are here. Certain words make some people uncomfortable, and we need everyone to feel safe so you all can do Imagination of the Mind next year," Joan announced. "Now, does anyone have another story or poem about mythology?"

When nobody volunteered to take the podium, Joan busted out "This Land is Your Land" and got most of the kids singing along. The Impromptu Competition captain came back into the room, nodded with approval, and left once again. Relieved that she had earned the captain's trust, Joan continued performing her duties, asking for folklore and legends whenever possible.

Joan heard many thrilling tales of heroes and fables with talking animals. Even though she really wanted more clues on how she could defeat Hera's curse, she thanked every kid who stepped forward to share and told them they did an amazing job.

At last, another kid rewarded Joan's patience with another story of goddesses:

"We hear of winners of battles,
And little of the defeated.
Yet the greatest betrayal in
Millennia is different.

"I was told by my mother,
Who was told by her own
And many before that,
That thousands of years ago
There was an inseparable due.
The Greek Goddess Hecate is the
Victim of this tale, although her
Powers are known through the land.
Lyssa, the Goddess of Rage and Fury
Is the victor in this battle, but
Remains almost unknown.

"The two were close as can be,
And Lyssa could not be more supportive
Of her lover, when she earned
The title, Goddess of Magic.
The unpredictable Lyssa was
Vengeful and ruthless,
And was thought to become the
Goddess of Passion.
She was a powerful entity,
Although untrusted by the almighty.
Could she control
Her anger?
So the almighty waited, hoping
She would prove them wrong.

"However, in many cases,
A true evil occurs.
Some find pleasure in testing
Those with power hidden within.
Those like Lyssa, with
Heightened emotions and
Unexplored power.
Those manipulated by beings
who enjoy chaos and betrayal.

"One such being took Lyssa aside,
Feeding her lies of the one
She truly cared for.
He used that rage burning inside
Her for his own evil.
'It's for her own good.' He would
Whisper, convincing Lyssa
Her lover had turned evil.

"One dreadful day, the battle occurred.
The day Lyssa confronted her lover,
Screaming at her to speak the truth.
But Hecate's truth came too late.
Lyssa was too full of fury.
Full of fear and betrayal.
The pair fought, and as all battles
Throughout history have shown,
There could only be
One winner.

"As the final blow had been struck,
Lyssa looked into the eyes of her
Beloved.
As Hecate's eyes fluttered shut,
Lyssa realised the truth.
Her passion was used against her
And the one who mattered most to her.
As Hecate's last breath escaped her,
An almighty scream
Ripped through the skies.

"It was then that Lyssa won her battle.
A battle fought due to lies and deceit,
A battle which shouldn't have occurred.
A battle which lost her her
Closest companion,
But won her her status,
As those who defeat a Goddess,
Earn the power of those before them.

"Hecate is the one known by all,
But Lyssa is known to those as a
Goddess you must never cross.
The Goddess of Rage,
Frenzy and Rabies.
What the world mistakes for evil,
Few know the truth.
Her anger and power,
Once used against her,
Is now used to punish the bad.
To prove that she is
Not to be messed with.
To seek vengeance
For the one
She was forced to kill."

Joan wished she could stop and think more about what the story meant for her predicament, but she had to keep smiling, to keep welcoming new kids to the podium. After all, this tournament was about them, not her.

Author's Note: I'm sorry the chapters are getting shorter, or in this case, my part of the chapter was short while other people helped me make it longer, but I'm doing what I can here. My fetus is draining a lot of my energy, and I doubt the situation will improve after I give birth. I'm dedicated to finishing the story, and I have a lot more drafted, so please be patient with me. I'll continue to update every 8 days unless I'm in labor.