Ares; the God of War

            This is a story of a new God and how came to be as the one we know of today as the God of war. He was once young and naive - drunk on the nectar of immortality, high on invulnerability and drowning in his own vanity. However, he changed when he fell in love with a mortal and every day, he would look down and part the clouds just to get a glimpse of him.

            The mortal's hair is in the shade of gold; his eyes are shining orbs of emerald. The mortal's beauty could surpass any God's, even of Aphrodite’s. His scent is of pine trees. He has a touch that is as light and soft as feathers. His voice can only be compared to the sweetness of honeycombs and figs. His smile alone can calm the raging waves of Aegean Sea.

            The mortal loved the young God back with the equal amount of passionate affection, devotion, and loyalty. And the young God pledged to love the mortal only for as long as he can. For a brief time, they lived peacefully. They loved without limitations or restraints. They loved without wars and pestilence, no slain bodies lying on their feet - no bloodshed and murderous crusades.

            Their love was pure and real.

            Their love could elude fate itself.

            The young God still has the stars in his eyes and the moon close to his heart. The boy was still the same - mortal, but in one piece, at least. But the young God wanted more. He was high on the idea that he could change the world. He wanted those epics and hymns written and sung all in his name. He wanted those statues and pantheons built in his image. He wanted to be glorified and he wants it all to come with haste.

            And so he went to war.

            The boy followed him, of course.

            The mortal would follow him to the edge of the world. He would sail with him in the most dangerous waters. He would fight beside him - for him. The young God let him, thinking that he would be safe with him. He promised himself that he would keep him safe no matter what. He would protect the boy, no one could hurt his love.

            He's a God, after all. What could go wrong?

            And yes, the boy is always beside him. He never loses sight of him. He kept him safe. He'd slit the throats or behead anyone who dares lay a step in his direction. The mortal boy, his love, will be safe.

            He will be safe.

            He will be safe.

            He will be safe.

            The war went on for years and the young God's fleet is losing. The other Gods mocked and laughed at him. Saying how weak he is, they disgraced him. It greatly tarnished his reputation. He couldn't just annihilate them all, that would be too simple. Mortals would despise him for taking sides. He had no choice but to back away and let all of his remaining men to die. After all, what glory would he get dwelling with the mortals' affair regarding wars?

            But the mortal boy has a big heart, filled with compassion and love. He can no longer bear seeing innocent men die and so he proposed a plan to the young God - a stupid, ruthless plan born out of desperation.

            "Let me wear your armor, Ares," he said. "They will think it's you, I'll stop them. Please, I'm begging you. I can't let any more innocent men sacrifice their lives. I promise I won't go near the wall; I will stay in the ships. I promise."

            The young God reluctantly agreed, making the boy swore to keep his promise. The young God bathe the mortal himself with the sweetest and clearest water that came from the most sacred of springs. He also strapped the boy into his own armor - golden and regal - fit for kings. He handed the boy his shield. He also sheathed his sword in the scabbard; the sword that he was famous for - forged by Hephaestus himself.

            But nothing could've prepared him for what was coming. His love, in just a blink of an eye, was shot directly through the heart by a golden broad-headed arrow, penetrating his armor. A single tear pricked down from the young God's eyes to his cheeks. And then came down another, and another, and another until he was choking on his own tears.

            He sat immobile on his throne, still unable to perceive the event that just transpired. It can't be. His blood had run cold. His head went blank. His breathing hitched. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead. The chalice of ambrosia spilled to the floor, now long forgotten. His eyes wide open in shock. His lips quivered. His knees shook. His fingers dug into his palms. It felt like his heart was yanked out from his body.

            His heart broke and he felt the pain in his bones, he felt it in every inch of his body. How he wished he was the one who took that arrow instead of the mortal he loved. He watched as blood dripped from his lover's lips. He watched as he fell to the ground lifelessly. He watched as the light from the mortal's eyes slowly fade. It hurts so much he thought he was going to die right there and then, even though he knows it's impossible.

            How could someone survive and still live through all this amount of pain? He tasted his own tears in his mouth, bringing him back to his senses. With all the strength left in him, he came down. He had slain everyone at sight, it didn't matter whose side they were. He didn't care if they were innocent or not. He only cared about the boy. They failed to protect him. He killed them all with a single swing of his sword.

            Until all that was left are ashes and ruins and thousands of lifeless bodies littering the battleground. And there, on his arms, his lover's mortal body lay lifeless and cold. He clutched him close to his heart. His tears washed away the blood covering the boy's face. He was good. He was innocent. He screamed so loud even the heavens could hear him.

            "Take him back! Oh, take him back. I am nothing without him. I beg of you, Hades."

            He helplessly pleaded, still holding the lifeless boy in his arms. His voice faltered. Suddenly, dark, harsh, and thundering clouds rolled in from what appeared to be nowhere, shielding the glittering stars and the ominous, wondrous moon that once decorated the skies. All traces of light ceased to exist - every bit of hope vanished. He felt a sharp pain as something cold hit the fresh wounds on his skin. Water. Droplets of water falling around him. Are the other Gods grieving with him?

            "End me then! What am I worth without the other half of my heart? Please, let me die with him! Strike me with your lightning! Drown me in your oceans! Just take me wherever he is!"

            Oh, how the young God begged, how he begged for Hades - to all the Gods he knew. He could've given them everything - even his own life. Persephone perished with him yet Hades stays unmoved. He did not listen. He does not want to listen. He thought Ares was foolish. He was young and naive, after all. A God trading his immortality just to be with some mortal? What nonsense! He'd grow up and find someone else, he thought.

            But the young God didn't, he stayed devoted to him and only him. Wanting to be with the mortal he loved, he rivaled with other Gods. He started wars and toppled castles with the sole intention of ending his own life. He didn't care. He drank doses of poisons yet he stayed alive. He was shot in the head by steel arrows yet he stayed alive. He was staked through the heart with gallantly forged swords yet he stayed alive.

            Years.

            Decades.

            Centuries.

            Millenniums.

            He stayed alive.

            The once young and naive God was long gone. Now, with gleaming and flickering eyes, Ares rose. His shield in hand, his sword raised to the heavens as if provoking them. He is a weapon of destruction. Setting fire wherever his foot lands, flame no one could ever tame as it was built from millennia of rage and regrets. His own wrath had claimed him. And every time he goes to war, he could only think of his lover whose image is now slowly fading from his memories, clouded by revenge.