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The Cost of Compassion

  One Week Later

  Words were not power, Medea laughed at those that said such things. No, words like wands or blood was a mere tool for channeling and manifesting power. Magic was dictated not by sound but by the endless purpose thoughts. For a boy like Xander, a dreamer and philosopher by heart, armed with a remarkably charitable soul... magic, or rather the control over the mystical forces was easier. However, as became completely apparent during their training, his mortal shell left him with less options than a demigod or legacy, no divinity to bolster his body... in fact, without his wand, spell, potions or runes, he would never be capable of much more than the most basic of spells... The boy may have been able to manifest spells with his wand on his first try, but without it he developed migraines and nausea.

  Maybe it was because of this fear that, as they enetered the Dreamscape, someone decided to intervene.

  A battle had started in the safety of Dreamscape between Dian and Xander, with both showing how right it was that they were chosen to serve Hecate. The void of the dreams was easily molded into a collesium arena, with the two boys standing across from each other. One armed with a Thrysus ( A Pinecone Staff) and the other with a Rose wand. Power flickered off of Dian, marking his potent inheritance. Xander, though of thinner blood, still held an air of control and calculation reminding Medea of her few experiences with Athena.

  Dian, experienced and skilled, moved without effort, slamming his staff against the sand of the arena. Three strong vines erupted out of purple spark of power, shooting off with unprecidented speed at what should have been an unprepared Xander. With a twist and jab of his wand, a spray of frost shot forward, slaughtering the vines effortlessly. Then, without any hestiaton, the boy raised the wand to his lips and blew out at the tip, allowing for soft, cold mist to flood the arena.

  'Very good, the boy is changing the arena with cheaper magics, turning it toward his favor... he will always have greater power here in the safety of his dreams, but that spell is possible even outside.' Medea could not help her smile, leaning forward with warm, eager eyes.

  That was when things went terrible, vilely wrong... and for the first time in centuries, Medea felt true fear.

  It started with a rush of panic, followed by the sweet smell of grapes, and finally... there was a rush of power, a malevolent energy the color of wine that rippled across the Dreamscape, scattering the Mists and leaving Xander exposed, terrified and beyond hope.

  Finally, there was a scream, a bellow really, inhuman and utterly deranged... and it came from Dian. The boy was gone, and it his place was a rabid beast... hunched over, hands warping into claws, eyes bleed with the same wine colored madness, only etched with the fractured mark of insanity. Drooling and wordless, the boy lunged forward with speeds few could match... Medea, in her old age, barely could. Her barrier, born of memories of the sun, manifested as a golden around around Dian, imprisoning him even as he clawed at her barrier, making it and her shudder from the dark powers oozing out of him.

  Rushing toward the mad child, fully understanding the unparalled burden he had been suffering from, Medea drew on her full might, the power that marked her as a legend and myth. The glow of the sun, born of her ties to Helios, erupted around her as she prepared to subude the boy fully, realizing that though he lacked control... Dian was not in fact mortal, and bore powers that even she would struggle with.

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  "Xander, you must awaken, less you-"

  "No." Soft, strong and absolute, Xander's simple statement rippled across the dreamscape with unparalled force, startling both Medea and rabid Dian. "I am a healer, a helper...I promised to make this world better than I left it. I will not leave him to suffer alone."

  And then, the raised his wand and started to spin it, silver magic trailing from the tip. Powered by compassion and empathy miles wide, the young mortal did something incredible... slowly, but surely, drawing in the mad energy infecting Dian. The magic, dark and twisted, lingered in the air, waiting for a purpose... for the pure mortal to take in one, very deep breathe, breathing in the the curse within Dian.

  Horrified, she clapped her hands, sending a blast of power that should have sent the young mortal flying, shattering his spell... only for a new barrier to manifest around him. One born of Hecate's magic, cold azure power that stopped Medea's magic entirely. The goddess in question shimmered into existence, her eyes filled with proud tears, looking solely at Xander.

  "He will die, Mistress, his mind warped beyond anything even you can heal!" Medea beseeched, and yet Hecate shook her head.

  "No, he will not... I chose the boy for his Charitable soul and desire to choose good... choice is the trust power of magic. Divine magic could not save Dian, but the essence of humanity and choice may be able to do just that... we shall see."

  Heart clenching with nerves, she watches as the boy in fact took in the Mad energy, swirling around his body, searching for cracks to conquer his mind...and yet, it just didn't. The boy, smiling kneeled and placed a hand in the dirt, grabbing one of the vine fragments from Dian's early attack. Closing his fist around, the power flowed into it, glowing with silver and purple. When he opened his hand, a seed had formed...

  And the boy collapsed, both of them... but that was not the end, for the seed sank into Xander's shadow, with real, powerful vines erupting around him, gaurding with a warm, familar essence.

  "The boy... he... he tamed the madness..."

  Hecate smiled. "He did more than that... Dreams are not like the real world, will is power here, magic is miles stronger here... the boy has found his niche. He is a Dream Mage, and through that act has manifested a dream gaurdian, one that will gaurd him for as long he has life to live."

  Bowing, Medea smiled, her own pride filling her. "Your wisdom, as always, baffles me... thank you, for sending them my way."

  "There is no other I could trust mother, Little Love. Now... I do believe it time we have a sit down meeting with these boys, something has changes, and no act of magic, no matter how purely intended, lacks consequences..." She froze, as did Medea, as the cold, agonizing rush of Thanatos infected the dream... and Medea started to cry, knowing full well why...

  Hecate cursed in the Titan Tongue as Dian's soul vanished from the dream..."The Madness was infused into his life force, freedom from it... cost him everything..."

  They both turned to Xander, knowing that the loss he unknowingly created may very well be the death of his hope.

  Medea found herself petting his hair as he recovered from the infection, knowing full well what would be feeling when he woke once more. "Lady Hecate... can you... I barely knew Dian, but I could tell he was good... please, did he pass into Elysium?"

  The Goddess started to cry, soft patient tears. "No... the boy... is gone." Medea gapsed. "He had little mortal energy, he had no soul... he has faded, his life force was his madness... he is gone..."

  And sadness would ripple through the Dreamscape with waves of unparalled power, making the women turn to look at the broken eyes of Xander. "I ... I killed someone, I killed Dian?" The boy's sobs would shatter something in Medea, who held the boy close, wishing she could heal his heart and the horrors of realizing that his attempt to help had such disasterous consequences.

  Only time could heal such wounds or... as was so often the case, infect them with so much worse.

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