Dorothea’s funeral procession is humble by royal standards. A couple deposed Goddesses, a Deadman who doesn’t know his own name, and a hanged Knight who keeps a stoic watch, too overwhelmed with a new found life to add any bits of wisdom. The animals show the most overt pain at the loss. Octavian the Stallion and Ophelia the Giant Rabbit the size of a Bear have tears in their downcast eyes.
Nearing a great valley full of Broken Temples. The procession stops. On the road a Small Boy with dark sleepless eyes glowers at them. He drags a sword too heavy for him to lift, and a great Lions Mane falls from his shoulders like a mockery of a Kings Cape. The Deadman and the Black Knight step forward. The Black Knight says “Who blocks our way to the Temple of Ashtoreth?” The Deadman stands silently.
The Boy growls, “The one called Mithras, answers to no peasant or whores claiming to be Goddesses.” Persephone draws a glass sword and before she can charge forth and eviscerate this small Mad Child, is stopped by her Mother. Smiling Demeter speaks, “Are you full of so much hate you would halt a funeral procession seeking to bless the breath of life into a fallen comrade?” The Boy Mithras stares silently with a smile of such hostility words are futile. The Knight steps forward, drawing a Sword of Obsidian to meet the challenge.
Mithras takes a stone tablet from his cloak. Raising it above his head, the sky darkens, he smashes it over his knee and the black clouds spill thunderbolts. Cracking across the sky, making all who witness pause to ponder this. The boy Mithras is lost in a swirl of black sand, magma and violent electricity. Where once was an Angry Child is now a mighty Angel of Wrath, a Creature made of hostility given life. The form of a fierce Angel body, with the head of a ferocious Lion, wrapped in a golden serpent. Wings of a Bright Plumage, with head and body devoid of color like marble save for golden eyes and teeth that give off an intense heat, brandishing a Silver Mace of Lightning and a Golden Sword of Fire. The Leontocephaline form of Ahriman Zurvan.
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In response to this Demeter and Persephone vanish into rays of light streaking into the Heavens. Deftly the Deadman rolls out of the way as the mad child Mithras in his mythic form, Ahriman comes smashing forward. The Black Knight is too slow to react, throwing him head over heals several dozen feet. At the same time Deadman has unleashed a volley of arrows, glancing off Ahriman’s marble skin with out penetration. Now this violence had alarmed Octavian who comes running full speed to batter Ahriman with his hooves, and the same time Ophelia rushes in like a Wildcat with outstretched claws, this also does very little to deter Mithras in the mighty form of Ahriman.
Without any trouble Mithras, in his manifestation of Ahriman, the Angel of Wrath dashes aside Octavian and Ophelia. The Deadman continues to pummel arrows into Ahriman. It was at this moment that a mighty female voice cracks across the Heavens, “Who dares defile this funerary rite? Who dares come into my valley with belligerence? Who dares assault my Heralds on this day?”
In a flash Mithras, now just a boy again, kneeling in respect as Artemis manifests in a Pillar of Fire. Standing before him, her eyes are full of vengeance. She stops and smiles, “Who is this foolish child before me?” He stands and states, “Mithras.” She responds, “Ah yes, my old friend Mithras. I haven’t heard your name in centuries. Have you lost your wealth and dominions? Where is your cult?” Again feeling hostile, “I do not explain myself, I have come to visit ‘The Queen of Heaven’s’ Temple.”
She turns to the others in the group and says “Well then you are welcome, but any more violence this day and you will be banished for eternity to a place of my choosing.” To the others she says “Any wounds?” The Deadman looks down at his broken open rib cage, exposing straw, oats, wheat and dust. He says “Ive survived worse.” Artemis says, “Yes I remember when we executed you for crimes against our Temples and Priestesses.” The Deadman lowers his Ruby eyes and does not respond.
Looking beyond him, Artemis sees the Black Knight has fallen apart. An empty suit of Armor housing scattered bones. She gathers the pieces of armor and bones making a pile on the cart of Ophelia The Rabbit who she pets fondly and says to no one in particular. “Rabbits are close to my heart as they are beloved by Ashtoreth and find water and offerings at our temples.” Ophelia sits up, happy for the praise and attention.