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It was just a dream. Or was it? She awoke in a haze, the soft sound of the winds, whispering through the trees, filling her ears. A yawn worked its way to the surface as she lifted her right arm to shield her beautiful eyes from the harsh light of sun. Instantly, as if someone were seeking to provide her shelter, the direct light was averted. She thought it'd be more of a struggle to position herself into a sitting position, but her back arched gracefully as she was brought into a comfortable recline. "Lovely." "Strong." "Tiny." The words were clear but soft. Confused, she gazed about, not seeing another soul. And while the view was enchanting, she couldn't figure out how she'd wound up in the beautiful nook of lush forestry. The streaks of sunlight that peeked through the thick foliage of the large, illustrious branches of fragrant cedars, majestic cherry woods, and the strongest oaks. Gorgeous flowers of every color dotted the forest floors, thick grass it's lush carpeting. The winds carried a light tune as it whistled its way through the paths, and each plant seemed to have a natural dance to its growing parts. This place could've easily been the fabled Eden she'd read so much about as a child. The young woman's memories were beginning to come back all at once. The battle she'd been raging in for weeks, the suffering, the carnage...and the worst sight she'd seen in her short life. None of that equated to the situation she now found herself in. "Tormented." "Depleted." "Resilient." Was someone there? Surely, she wasn't losing her mind. Soft as the words were, they were spoken in voices not her own. As she made up her mind to get up and venture forward, she realized she was already standing. She turned to see an oversized palm leaf retract slowly, as if gently waving her goodbye. That's when she realized her armor was missing, and she was clad in a dress of fig leaves. "Is someone there?" She found her words, as foolish as they felt. Was she truly expecting a wood nymph to appear before her and grant her a wish? "Nike. Goddess of Victory." She couldn't deny it any longer- she was not alone. Who was this voice that beckoned her by name? Though the name was a bit of a misnomer- she'd been anything but victorious. "Nike is my name, kind stranger. However, I've gained no victories to speak of." She crept forward precariously, her eyes narrowed sa she sought to pinpoint the direction of the distinct voice. "You shall." It was an aged voice, of that she was sure. Female and unfamiliar. "Tell me, how have you come to determine this prophecy? Might I look upon your face, and perhaps learn of my fate?" A strong wind blew through the trees, encircling the young warrior in a vortex of fragrant, multi-colored, petals. She gazed about in wonder, barely noticing as her feet lifted from the ground beneath her. A magical vision that looked like her home, except different, surrounded her. Towers of gold and sparkling rivers amidst impressive monuments were in her sights. A prosperous people milling about in a thriving marketplace, smiles reaching to opposite ears showed her kingdom at peace. "Nike, daughter of Styx, you have stumbled upon your destiny. You will be lauded for millenia to come." As the wind slowed and dissipated, the young beauty floated to the ground. “Who is to say these events come to pass? I know nothing of those images, let alone how to return to battle and win. My armies were barely stemming the tide, our enemies laying waste to our land. Olympia is in great peril, and I’m … I am unsure of where I am.” “You, my dear child, are in your sanctuary. You come here when you need rest.” “Show your face, that I may know my protector.” The reticence in her voice was amusing to those listening. One by one, the trees around her morphed into fantastical visages of the female variety. Some simply stared at her with stoicism. Others offered her variations on pitying gazes and soft smiles. All at once, she knew exactly who she’d been conversing with. An older, willow tree with beautiful, discerning eyes and deep lines etched around them gave her a once over. “You’re almost ready to return, child.” “Ready for what, exactly? Are we…in Eden? And may I know your name?” "Foolish." "Unworthy." "Confused." Nike couldn’t pinpoint who said what, but it mattered not. Reconciling what she knew as fact, as she stood in this fantasy, was enough to worry about. “I’m called a lot of things. The Tree of Knowledge, Mother Willow, Yggdrasil- it depends on which lore you subscribe to. But always, I’m the keeper of knowledge in time and space. You’re in the Whispering Woods, outside of the realms. And you’ve been here before, Nike.” “Do they not like me?” Nike asked the question hesitantly, as low chatter surrounded her. Judgements, speculations, and compliments that barely reached her ears were discussed at length. “They’re here because of you. They took care of you, nursing you back to health when you were weak. Providing you balms and bandages, giving you nutrition, clothing you. They can be a bit frivolous at times. It’s not often we have one of your kind in the sanctum.” “A human?” “A goddess before her time.” “I don’t understand, Mother Willow. How did I come to be worthy of this place?” “My dear, you cultivated this land in the future, according to your timeline. You, like your foremothers Gaia and Athena, have erected many institutions. This place is included amongst them; a place for weary soldiers to gain rest. Each of these trees were planted by one of you. Gaia planted me, imbuing me with knowledge from the beginning of time to the end. You’ve inherited her beauty and strength.” “I’d settle for valor. What must I do to return to the battle and win? My people deserve their peace.” “As do you, little warrior. Tell me, at what age did you first draw a sword?” “It feels like I was born with a weapon in my hand. I’d say I fashioned my first scabbard at the age of 2. I wasn’t awarded Hela until my 6th year.” “Hela, your blade. Many have been sent to Valhalla following a broad stroke from your arm. Even more than your mother took. Tell me, why you haven’t yet been given a command of your own?” “There are soldiers more experienced than I-“ “More experienced, yet less capable. You, child, have been holding back.” "Coward." "Incapable." "Cautious." “Why do you say these things?” Nike cried out to the faces surrounding her, mocking her. “I am no coward. I am meager in size but mighty with sword!” “You don’t need to tell them that. They already know,” Mother Willow smiled amusedly. “They are here to prove a very salient point, indeed.” “Is it that they think me deaf?” “They are showing you your fears. Your doubts. Your fellow soldiers in arms? They accept you. They like to gaze upon you. But respect you enough to heed your command? They won’t until you make them. You’ve been taking orders and failing. When are you going to realize the insanity in that so-called defense? What needs to change, Nike?” Contrite and ashamed, Nike hung her head. Tears were filling her brilliant golden eyes. She knew she had been denied her rightful place as Commander. She knew in her heart of hearts, that her strategies were unparalleled. She knew each soldier’s strengths and weaknesses, often knowing ahead of time where each strike would originate. She was among the first to show her allegiance, and always ready to lead any battle. She could even rally the support of any of the gods with her use of logic and wisdom. “I do.” “No tears, child.” Mother Willow extended her branches to catch the drops of dew that were falling from the young goddess’ eyes. “You have all the power. Now, all you have to do is show them.” "Unsure." "Capricious." "Capable." Nike squared her shoulders and faced the other congregants. “Conqueror.” The smiles and nods that met her were approving. Actually, it was then that she realized their opinions didn’t matter. It certainly wouldn’t change who she was nor who she was destined to become. She was a warrior. She was a goddess. She was a victor. “I believe I’m missing my armor, Mother Willow.” “I believe your new armor will suit you much better, my child." As Nike gazed in wonder, the fine particles of golden sunlight appeared to gather into a brilliant tornado of texture and color. Roots and branches reached out towards the natural wonder, reaching in collecting garments and armor. Touches of iron and reflections of green amidst a sea of gold transformed before her very eyes into a breastplate, footwear, a reinforced long sword, helmet and a spear. To her shock and delight, 3 tiny wood nymphs appeared to help adorn her. As she was spun by her sisters in nature and fully suited, she noticed the lack of metal on her back. Knowing she had previously had a thick, cowhide to protect her rear, she sought to rectify the issue. "As a Commander, I'll lead the charge. However, I implore you an added measure of protection for my shoulder blades, O Wise One." "Dear Nike, the time has come for you to embrace your true form. It will not allow for any covering for your back." Before she could let those words sink in, the 3 nymphs surrounded her. The tiny fairies flitted about her in a dizzying dance, sprinkling her with a golden dust. She felt her body responding, a tingling sensation taking over. It was then she heard the low whispers surrounding her, the entire forest enchanting her. After a minute of this, a hush fell over everyone. They stared at Nike with eyes full of adoration. When she felt the first flutters on her back, she spun quickly to see what it was touching her. Little was she prepared to find herself in mid air, as she caught sight of large, majestic feathers. It took another moment to realize they were attached to two, large wings protruding from her shoulders. "I am ... flying!" She cried out with merriment. She glided higher, laughing with pure joy. "You are as intended. A herald. A goddess. A warrior." "How can I ever repay this debt?" Nike asked as she landed at the roots of the beloved Willow tree. "You go and claim your destiny. We'll be here, whenever you need us." Nike couldn’t contain her excitement at her new form. She also found herself imbued with insight and foresight. Most importantly, at the moment, she knew how to return home to save her people. As she bid her tiny paradise adieu, Nike caught an intuitive breeze. She soared higher and faster up out of the cover of the Whispering Woods. A large grin threatened to split her cheeks as she recalled the words to open a portal. "Heimdall! Bring me home!" And from that point on, Nike was lauded as the Goddess of Victory.

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Victorious

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