The tall grass swayed in anticipation. Off in the distance a young maiden giggled and she rode astride a wild stallion. She stole glances back at a man who watched with pride at his daughter as she switched effortlessly between side and full-saddle. The meadow was full of the smell and nostalgia that summer dreams are want to envy. The white clouds – sparse and spread thinly across the uppermost spheres of the sky – bore no sign of storms. As the rider spurred the great stallion into full stride, the tall grass separated, bowing left and right, and then as if wanting to bask in joy and thrill that trailed, they closed quickly together clapping to capture the moment. This is where Athena went. No one really knew this, but when she wasn’t anywhere, this is where she went. Back in this daydream which she allowed to move slowly passed her mind's eye. She always had to watch it slowly; she had to withdraw before the end. The end harbored a memory she dreaded. The only thing that could make honey bitter was the source from which the bees gathered their nectar, and this daydream was filled with both acrid and sweet nectar. “ATHENA! HE’S COME!” She started from her daydream, quite shocked and almost indignant. Then she realized where she had been. Why had she let herself go there at a time like this? She focused her mind with doubled effort to comprehend the clamor and clashes of battle that surrounded her. Her mind barely came up to speed, with just enough time to avoid the spited bite of a dreadspider. As she dodged the bite, the tarantula flashed its massive carapace, to deflect her blow in turn. Then it turned and faced her again, but this time its pedipalps prated together as if mimicking speech, and suddenly a tainted, emerald mist burst forth and struck Athena, and she cursed quietly for failing to put up her protective barrier. “In Juxt Sanct!” She spoke the familiar words, for she’d need the extra barrier to give her enough time to find her tonic for the magical poison the arachnid had given her. She quickly sipped the tonic and then gave the spider a smirk. Its pedipalps continued their jittering but this time no spell came forth, it was more confused expression at her smirk. Suddenly the massive paw of Trust slammed down upon the spider’s octuplet gaze and smashed its head into the stony rubble of the old Terathan keep. It squirmed for a moment, a feeble attempt to retaliate; with a slight twist of his paw Trust ended the spider’s continued spasms. As he looked at Athena, she heard his thoughts clearly, “He is come Athena, we must make way to the front lines. The Great Devourer will not be kind to my brothers and sisters and I must help them.” Athena understood her companion’s thoughts completely. Mephistos was indeed a devourer. “Thank you dear friend,” Athena returned the thought, “let us end Mephistos and feed him his final battle.” She raced east along the bridge to meet with the other warriors. A barrier of voracious spiders seemed to form a wall of constant motion at the far end. “Trust, blast a hole in this wall, we must make haste!”, but before she could finish her thought, a ball of flame erupted from Trust and send the spiders flying in pieces and in all directions. She spurred Sirree forward, and burst into the fray of warriors that clashed with the eldest of the house of Avicularia. She knew she may have charged in a bit too quickly, when she saw Mephistos turn the full force of his curses towards her. She winced slightly in anticipation and called out in her mind “Trust, guard me!” Her magical reflection held strong and the spells rebounded back towards, the great spider’s legs, causing it to falter slightly. Before it could lunge, her great red friend flashed betwixt them as a great barrier. She sighed slightly in relief, but then she saw her friend begin to spasm violently. Trust did not cease his assault and continued swiping with his talons, but Athena knew how he suffered. She struggled to try and alleviate the poison, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not cleanse the wound where Mephistos’ fangs had piereced. Suddenly she was back into her dream again. This time, it was a bit darker, her father’s shadow loomed over her. The look on his face: She knew he was not concerned that she had fallen off the horse. She had fallen off dozens of times, and she had learned well how to recover from such a fall. His look of concern was not directed at her, but towards whatever it was that was behind her. She didn’t want to turn, she hated this part of the dream. Still the memory is fixed, and cannot be undone, and so it hits with a force that feels like a solid rock struck her arm. Her father moves with lightning speed and quickly decapitates a small silvery serpent. Immediately he turns to Athena as she lay limp on the ground. Her father’s figure becomes blurred, and his frame becomes three outlines as she begins convulsing. This is the worst pain she has ever experienced, this is the part of the dream she hates to see. Almost cognizant of her dream, she wondered “Why is she seeing this now? When I am in danger and my allies need me?” then she saw it, something she’d never seen before in this daydream. She never let it carry through, because before now, the pain was simply too great. Her father, concentrated his gaze on her arm where the serpent had struck and moved his hands in motions she recognized as life cycles of nature. As her father continues, she sees a curious totem forming upon the ground; a solid mass, forming in the shape of the serpent that had struck her. “That’s it!” she realized she’d known it all along, she’d seen her father draw poison using means of drawing the wound into a physical manifestation of the source of the pain! She came to her senses faster this time and immediately she began mimicking the hand motions of the life cycles she had seen her father perform. She could feel Trust’s life force waning, and raced faster to perform the cycles. She smiled as she beheld her efforts succeeding! A totem of Mephistos’ gruesome form began solidifying at her feet. As she continued her remedial motions, Trust gave out a mighty roar and with one final swipe Mephistos finally succumbed and crumpled to the ground. Turning, Trust gave what dragons could closest manage to resemble a smile. “Take us home Athena. That totem will serve as a reminder of the pain we now share.”
