Good heavens… wasn't this one dead? And yet she can appear before people… could this place be—?
As if sensing Thea's confusion, the shifting silhouette continued, "You now stand within a high-dimensional plane that depends upon its original timeline. What you see is a projection I have cast from streams of time past."
Spoken so plainly, Thea bowed her head in respect. "Your Majesty."
"You called me here for what purpose?"
The figure didn't answer directly. Instead it traced a strange sigil in the air and opened a narrow spatial passage. The old elk immediately crossed that gate and—visibly moved—dove into the entity's embrace.
Thea didn't interrupt their reunion. Perhaps it wasn't technically a reunion at all, merely a fleeting convergence at the corner of time. Her English vocabulary lacked the words, so she simply watched in silence.
Time stretched and shrank at once. When the goddess-projection patted the elk's head and rose again, Thea gathered herself—she knew her turn had come.
The projection inclined its head. "Traveler of time, thank you for letting us meet once more."
Thea's head filled with question marks. Me? I was pulled here by the elk, wasn't I?
"No," the goddess said after choosing words carefully, as if to spare lengthy explanations. "I have fallen into an eternal slumber. No portion of my divinity flows into your plane. What you now perceive is drawn from the vast reservoir of temporal power within you—fragments plucked from ages past."
The phrasing sounded strange: projection, time-fragments. Thea didn't catch every nuance, but one thing dawned on her clearly: You have fashioned this high-dimensional space using my power.
A flicker of displeasure crossed her face. The goddess noticed and laughed, bell-clear and amused. "Little one, are you angry? How delightful. But your power would dissipate upon entering this plane regardless—I have only intercepted a portion. Do not be vexed… ha."
Thea could understand that. From 2008 to 2166 her magical reservoir swelled; then she'd been thrown back to 1918. It was like expecting a steady rise of assets only to be given an advance on future wages—and then hurled into the past before the debts had been repaid. If she left the anti-magic zone recklessly, who knew what temporal catastrophe would follow? Even the king of gods would not tangle lightly with time.
She thought of reverse-Flash—how one rash leap from the 25th century to the 21st had drained his speed and left him rebuilding from ruin. That was a lesson carved in blood.
So although the goddess had taken a portion of power without asking, Thea bit back a retort. Women—even those who've become gods—could be unreasonable creatures. Best not to pick a fight.
She let her eyelids droop. "Fine. You did nothing wrong… so why did you call me?"
The deity's smile faded; a trace of real sorrow touched the voice as its hand stroked the elk's cheek. "This creature and I are bound. It has accompanied me through countless years. But even so, the hour of parting comes."
"The old gods fall, new gods return. My life cannot be preserved—but his can."
The goddess's speech softened; the lofty "I" had shifted into something personal. Thea felt sympathy for the poor beast. "What do you require of me?"
The figure's features blurred, but a flicker of embarrassment reached Thea. "I must borrow your power. I need to sever its tie to me after these long ages. To call my past divinity into this place requires a vast amount of temporal energy."
"Are you kidding me? You find someone honest and milk them dry?" Thea eyed the deity suspiciously, waiting for the rest.
The goddess hurried to explain. "Of course not without recompense. Once I cut the bond, the creature will follow you. Its combat experience is vast and it will aid you. I will also let you retain a portion of energy—approximately ten years' worth. Consider it."
Ten years' worth of readily available power—that was tempting. The elk's martial value was unclear; to Thea it looked like an old stag, not some legendary weapon. But the promise of ten years of steady magical reserves? That could save a decade of struggle—far better than losing everything or worse, being stranded in debt with time itself.
"Your Majesty," Thea asked cautiously, "I arrived here by accident. Will my lineage cause temporal trouble once I leave the island? I don't want to step out and explode into ash, nor do I want to be trapped here forever."
Her concerns were practical: the goddess was siphoning power from her, and time always demanded accounts be squared.
The projection seemed to anticipate the worry and answered proudly, "Divine power can change the rules. We honor time, but we do not fear it. Using the permission you hold with the Lords of Time, I will fix your power within a stable value. Even returning to your original timeline, it will not spiral out of control, nor will it stunt your future growth. That portion will be yours henceforth."
"The goddess even knows of the Time Lords Council?" Thea was surprised—these weaklings managed to draw Artemis's notice. "They're not exactly amateur hour?"
"I only know that they are not as simple as you see. Beyond that, my knowledge is limited."
Clearly, deeper waters churned beneath that remark. Thea felt something stir—let Rip Hunter and the others handle the temporal council. "Majesty, what must I do?"
"I will loosen the anti-magic bond on your body. You must release your power into me as quickly as possible."
When Thea confirmed she was ready, the goddess touched her from afar.
"Whoaa—!" Power surged out and shook the high-dimensional plane. Thea had been through similar upheavals before; she summoned the still-confused unicorn and merged once more, pulling the swelling magic tight.
"Amazing strength. It's hard to imagine you are mortal… Huh? There is a trace of divinity about you, though not of the Greek pantheon." The goddess had not expected Thea's power to reach such levels. Stabilizing the trembling space, she watched the union between woman and beast with a thoughtful eye.