“Forgive me for troubling thee at such an early hour, Master Atepomarus, but Avalon shall once again march to war against those wretched folk of Saturnia, and we shall require horses,” said a man standing at the door of a small stable.
It was very early in the morning; the sun had only begun to rise over Avalon, and the sky still appeared dark with streaks of red and orange. The modest stable stood upon a vast prairie surrounded by green mountains and beautiful apple trees. A lake behind the small structure reflected the light of dawn.
The stable was made of wood and had a tall triangular roof of straw. Beside the building stood wooden fences where several horses of different colors grazed, being fed by a small blonde girl with green eyes.
“It cannot be that they mean to wage war against Saturnia again. Why can they not simply sign peace and be done with it?” asked a man from inside the stable.
The man had orange-blond hair cut in a bowl shape and a long mustache of the same orange color. He wore a simple green tunic and blue trousers. His eyes were a bright green.
“I am sorry, sir, but I am only a messenger. I make no decisions of war,” replied the other man, who had arrived escorted by several soldiers of Avalon.
They all wore steel helmets with a golden dragon on top. Their attire consisted of red cloaks and bronze armor, with plaid-patterned skirts and leather boots. All the soldiers—except the messenger—carried spears whose tips shone white and gold.
“I understand that, but does sacrificing these horses truly serve any purpose? Humans may do such things, but there is no reason for us to do the same,” replied the man named Atepomarus.
“Great King Esus considers any action necessary to win the war,” the man answered, and Atepomarus merely nodded, though with displeasure.
The men then entered the stable and took seven horses away. The small girl watched the scene with sadness, for they were seven friends she would never see again.
“Great Esus shall be grateful for your service,” said the messenger as he and the soldiers led the horses away.
“Great Esus will not return my horses when they collapse from exhaustion in those wars,” the man replied sarcastically.
Atepomarus then sat upon a bench inside the stable and placed his hands over his head, frustration clear in his gaze.
“Papa,” said the little girl. “Why did they take the horses again?”
“Because this kingdom is at war with another, and they need horses, Epona,” the man replied gloomily.
“But those horses will never come back, will they?” the little girl asked sadly. “What will happen when they die?”
“Sometimes, Epona,” the man said while gently stroking the girl’s head, “the only purpose we have is to sacrifice ourselves for others—just like those horses.”
“But you said that was not true. I heard you say so,” the girl replied.
The man sighed and looked toward the sunrise over the hills.
“Sadly, we can do nothing, nor can we oppose such acts. We are merely farmers living outside the capital, and our work is to raise horses,” the man answered with a choked voice.
“Is it because we are useless, Papa?” asked the little girl, her eyes filling with tears.
“Epona! Never say such a thing again!” the man said sharply while looking at her with irritation.
“But they come and steal the horses, and then they kill them. And we cannot do anything,” the girl answered.
“Listen, Epona. In this world we all have our roles. Perhaps thou canst not yet see it, but even in this humble life we lead we may aid our kingdom in many ways,” the man replied. “Even if what we do seems small, it shall have great consequences in the future.”
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“Yes, Papa,” the little Epona replied.
And in that moment everything became darkness.
“I see… so this is the end,” Epona thought.
“Rodrigo… Anpiel… Ana… even Tania, Susanoo, and Menrva… I hope my sacrifice is enough for them to understand how to defeat Anat’s barrier.”
The two halves of Epona’s body fell to the ground as her entrails spilled across the place. The light had vanished from her eyes and her body had grown cold. In that moment, Epona said farewell to her loved ones and her consciousness faded.
Ana screamed in horror and pain while Menrva restrained her tightly around the waist so that she would not throw her life away in vain.
Anat then kicked the upper half of Epona’s body aside while preparing her katana once more to cut down Thor, who remained immobilized in her grasp.
“That’s it… that girl gave her life to show us how we can strike Anat,” Thor thought while trying to force energy back into his body, which had become numb when Anat touched the hammer.
“C’mon now, body… don’t you dare waste that little girl’s sacrifice. Just one hit… one good hit. Without her totema, I can hurt her real bad.”
“Now it is your turn, god of thunder,” Anat said with a smiling face, her eyes glowing red as she prepared once more to cut Thor down.
At that moment Thor revitalized his body with electricity and, with all his strength, wrenched his hammer from the Phoenician goddess’s hand and struck her with it.
Thor then leapt before Anat and tried to strike her again with his hammer, but the goddess caught the attack with her hand once more. Thor again felt his entire body become numb. Only a little blood appeared upon her face. The blow had not been significant.
At that moment golden spears fell from the sky, crackling with electricity. Thor looked upward and saw Menrva with a furious gaze as she created those enormous spears. The distraction allowed the thunder god to slip free from Anat’s grasp.
“Loki! Get over here and take everyone away!” Menrva cried, her voice hoarse with grief.
The goddess had been forced to knock Ana unconscious so that she would not sacrifice her life uselessly, but now Menrva herself was prepared to destroy Anat with her greatest technique.
Loki appeared and saw Epona’s body split in two. His expression filled with pain. Immediately he teleported the others away and vanished.
“Fools. Do you think I will allow you to live after this?” the Phoenician goddess said with a smile while she sheathed her dreadful katana once more.
“No matter where you run, I will find you and kill you,” she added.
“Thor!” Menrva shouted. “You are a Jupiter just like me. Let us burn this witch with our electrical power at full strength!”
“Hold on there, Menrva! We can’t hurt her till we make her draw that sword. Just wait a moment,” Thor said while pointing again toward the goddess Anat with his hammer.
“Indeed, Thor. My barrier exists only while my sword remains sheathed. But it shall be impossible for you to force me to draw it,” Anat replied with a victorious smile.
Thor then hurled his hammer against Anat’s barrier, where it became trapped, struggling to pierce it while releasing electric attacks.
“Do it now, woman! I’ll back ya up with a mighty bolt myself!” Thor shouted to the Etruscan goddess, who was preparing an enormous electrical triangle to bury Anat beneath it.
“But… her sword is still sheathed!” Menrva cried in concern.
“Trust me!” Thor shouted while summoning a tremendous lightning strike with his ability:
“Bregða upp Þunraz (Thunder Strike)!”
Menrva then shouted:
“Cerichunce in Tmia Lauchum Flereum (Construction of the temple of the king of the gods)!”
The electrical triangle was struck by Thor’s overwhelming lightning bolt, and at that moment—like a meteor-like spear of electricity falling from the heavens—it crashed down upon Anat’s head. Ignoring her barrier entirely, the attack struck her directly.
The electric explosion triggered a chain reaction with the lightning spears Menrva had planted throughout Haida Gwaii. A tremendous explosion engulfed the entire island while Thor and Menrva fled from the blast.
“Even with the suppression of our power, that attack was tremendous,” Menrva said excitedly.
“Reckon that one finally hurt her,” Thor replied.
And indeed, when the smoke cleared, half of Anat’s face was bloodied and part of her purple dress torn. The hand that held her katana had been burned. Her expression was filled with rage and hatred. Her pink eyes glowed blood-red while blood flowed from her lips.
“How did you break the barrier?” Menrva asked Thor.
“Her barrier’s made from that lightning-fast swing of her sword. Doesn’t matter how weak the target is—she always cuts it down.”
Thor then raised his hand and caught his hammer Mjölnir.
“My hammer threw off millions of sparks. Anat had to destroy every one of ’em without even thinkin’, so she couldn’t stop our big ol’ combined strike,” he explained.
Menrva smiled and closed her eyes.
“Epona… thanks to you, we managed to do this,” the goddess thought.
But Anat’s wounds quickly regenerated due to the accumulation of ichor within her body. Her expression, however, remained unchanged—she was furious.
“You really enjoy pissing me off, don’t you?” Anat snarled. “You think that idiot’s sacrifice actually accomplished something? I’m going to wipe you out right now!”
She then revealed the golden pendant hanging from her neck—a figure of a crowned Egyptian woman seated upon a throne and holding two axes.
It was her totema.