Chapter Text
War… stands as a curse upon mankind, a deadly reminder of the tragedy that is fate. It is a gruesome cycle that neither us gods or mortals can escape. It is everlasting and has existed since the first titans were created. It is primal, yet remains a blessing for people like me. It is a blessing for those who have been wronged so they may have the chance to be righted. A reminder that time shall prevail and that even those who have lost can still win.
The war in Troy has remained one of the longest we Olympians have ever faced, almost second to the Titanomachy I had heard of so many times in my youth. How I longed to have been a part of that. We've been fighting for nine years now... in the beginning it felt like everything would've been over soon, but the months had turned to years and eventually hope began to dissipate. The Olympians, who I reluctantly have to consider my family, are no longer the same gods and goddesses I had grown up with. Even with how long this war has gone on for, none of them aim to stop now until either the Greeks or the Trojans win. So we continue as the months turn into years and as the amount of lives slain only grows. I feel certain that if the Titans were still around, they would be laughing at us.
The mortals scream and cry to the gods to support them and their futile causes, because they know that when it's all over all of their time spent will have been for nothing. They spend so much time valuing others by the amount of wealth they hold in their pockets and the amount of power they can use on others, but when they have gone and died all of it will have been meaningless. Their souls will enter the realm of Hades, with their money, family, and memories all being reduced to nothing as they get sent off to whichever realm they are assigned to.
It all started with a wedding, the irony kills me whenever I sit down long enough to think about it. The fact that a wedding managed to cause all this bloodshed and violence really makes you wonder why the fates do what they do, or if they knew this was all going to happen. The day of the wedding, an invitation had been delivered to me by Hermes himself. I thought he was joking at first, the idea of me attending any sort of love ceremony seemed like bad luck. But as I looked at the invitation, I noticed that it indeed did have my name written on it. It was very tempting to just throw it out or feed it to one of my dogs, but when Mother caught wind of it she insisted that I attend.
Time holds no meaning in the eyes of gods; to us mortality is merely a thing that the mortals fight tooth and nail to overcome, not something us gods need to worry about. Though, Apollo tells me otherwise. He told me that some mortals or experiences can make us feel mortal even if we'll live on to forget them. He then said that we gods are not that different from mortals, we just seem to think that because we have lived longer that we are too different. I didn't believe him then.
Being the last one to arrive got me more attention than I wanted. It was around dusk when I had arrived at the wedding reception. The couple had already gotten married, lucky for me so I didn't have to sit long in my tight, itchy, royal garments. Apollo and Artemis were both shocked to see me in attendance, but invited me over to their side of the table where they drank and ate. Hermes was sitting beside us and at some point let slip that the only goddess who he hadn't gotten an invitation for was Eris. She was a distant companion of mine, but it was no surprise to me that she was not invited. Her and her chaos was the exact opposite of what a wedding needed, but the same can be said for war as well.
Later during the dinner, whilst I was slowly getting drunk of the whiskey at the bar, the doors to the venue slammed open. Eris then appeared wearing a dark cloak over her eyes, just short enough to give all of us a perfect view of her toothy smirk. In her right hand she held a shining, golden apple that she then tossed into the center of the dining table; right in between Mother, Athena, and Lady Aphrodite. She then stated that the apple should only belong to the fairest. The three goddesses rose to claim the title and the apple, sparking the tension that would plague the rest of the dinner. Eris cackled and disappeared into a puff of smoke, as the first insult was spat out.
While the other Olympians tried to calm the three goddesses down, me, Hermes, and Artemis finished the rest of the whiskey. The arguments only grew louder as the night went on and eventually turned into early morning. Mother finally had enough of the arguing and demanded that Zeus decide the winner of the apple. However, in his infinite wisdom, he decided that it would be a smart decision to turn it over onto the mortals. He then would send a very drunk and tired Hermes to find the mortal Paris and get him to choose. When the three goddesses met with Paris they immediately attempted to bribe the Prince of Troy into choosing them. Mother offered him money and land, Athena offered him victory in battle, and Lady Aphrodite offered him the hand of the most beautiful mortal woman in Greece, Helen of Sparta.
Paris immediately accepted Lady Aphrodite's bribe, declaring her the fairest. Though despite this spat finally being settled, there was a hitch in Paris's romance with Helen. She was married to the King of Sparta, Menelaus. Instead of asking her for her hand like any normal mortal, he kidnapped the queen and brought her back to Troy, indirectly initiating the Oath of Tyndareus. Athena and Mother were still not satisfied with Lady Aphrodite being awarded the apple and decided to support the Greeks, ultimately causing the divide amongst the Olympians and the eventual war between Greece and Troy, causing the very chaos that Eris had wanted.
Mortals always wonder why Menelaus and all the other kings of Greece agreed to sign the Oath of Tyndareus, they ask questions and try to find reason in why this trivial matter unleashed the horrors of War onto the citizens, and the soldiers, and led to the eventual fall of Troy. What mortals and gods alike don't understand is that War is inevitable, there's no reason to be found in the violence after the initial sparks had been ignited. War itself is gruesome and chaotic, there's no meaning to be found in that. War is a beast that thrives as long as the flames fueling it continue to burn. The mortals can make up reasons and fables to have been learned from the war but they'll never truly understand. Not as I do.
As Menelaus and his brother Agamemnon collected their troops, the other Olympians were busy with planning too. Mother was adamant in me being on her side during the battles, but I didn't give a damn either way. This wasn't my fight, it didn't matter to me if the Greeks won or lost. The bloodshed was all that mattered. I could care less what soldiers I had to lead, they'd all die eventually anyway. Even if it wasn't in the war.
No gods understand war the way I do. Because unlike them, I am War. I am the inevitable force that strikes fear into the hearts of soldiers on the battlefield. I inspire their bravery and courage with the raw emotion of a battalion winning their longest battles. The body I hold my form in remains covered in the scars of the many battles I have won and lost, representing the thousands of mortal soldiers that have fought by my side. I am unlike my counterpart Athena, I do not offer them strategy and leadership. I am a soldier like them, for I am the being keeping them inspired to continue fighting.
When the first battles had begun amongst the Greeks and Trojans, a storm had made its way onto Mount Olympus. Zeus was angered by Hera and therefore made it everyone else's problem. Rain pounded against my window, with flashes of lightning and crashes of thunder that rocked my room. The storm wasn't the only thing keeping me awake that night, I could hear the screams of soldiers on both sides crying and pleading for aid. It kept me tossing and turning in my sheets as with each movement I made I could hear another scream of a soldier calling for their general.
The mortals have little respect for me, despite me being the one they call on when they are faced with battle. They call me the destroyer of men, manslaughtering, all of the names of a beast who seeks violence and bloodshed. They say that I am blood-stained in the suffering of mortals who were brave enough to pick up a sword against their persecutors and seek revenge. Revenge is not my department; however, it's of no use to try and correct them. War will forever remain as gruesome and bloody as the mortals say it is. They will never find the beauty in it as I do. Some do, but are considered insane and heartless.
When the screaming finally had ceased and I was beginning to slip into the cold embrace of sleep, there was a loud knocking at my door making me sit up in a cold sweat. Visitors don't often come to my door in the dead of night, nor do they usually come either. I clenched my sheet and pulled it around my waist as I slid off the bed and got to my feet. When I got to the door, I glared at the person behind the crack and frowned.
The mortals are right. I don't deny that I am everything the mortals call me and more. Despite them writing me in their fables as weak and cowardice, I admit to my faults and take ownership of it. Yet they still see me as a coward, a weak god and a brute who is just as heartless as the people that find beauty in war. I despise everything about their words... about their depictions of me as weak. Just as the mortals cannot understand War, they cannot understand me either. For I am War.
Lady Aphrodite stood there, from the entrance of the hall water had wet footprints had followed her. She was completely soaked from head to toe, her form shivering in place with wide eyes as she watched me open the door. She seemed to have completely disregarded her appearence, which was something I did not know was possible for her. I glared at her as she remained standing there without a word, I asked her what she wanted and she asked if she could come in. Despite the state of my room, and the near naked state I was in, she had quite the nerve. I declined her request and demanded she state her business before I slam the door in her face.
I represent the courage of soldiers in the battles that seem ultimately hopeless. I am the god who protects those who are taken prisoner in war and the god who protects those who protect themselves. If the mortals think of me as a blood thirsty monster as they do of war, then I will not deny it. I am bloody and gruesome, just as war is, but if they continue to see me as weak and cowardice then I will show no mercy. I will unleash the violence they so horrible detest and see to it that they see me as the beast everyone else seems to see me as.
Lady Aphrodite's expression tightened at my response, but she remained in place as she began to twirl her hair with a finger. She took a deep breath and confessed to me her worries about the war and for Paris. She tells me that she has the support of Apollo and some other gods, but admits that she does not think she can win. I ask her if the reason she's come to me in the middle of the night is to merely rant to me about a matter she got herself into, and see anger grow on her face.
“I need- I need your help, Lord Ares,” She asked.
To say that her words shocked me would be an understatement. I was left stunned, holding the sheet tightly around my waist as I looked between her and the water covered floor. She came all this way to ask me for my help. No god or goddess has ever asked me for my help before, it was either an order or simply being left alone. I've hardly ever spoken to Lady Aphrodite that much, we have nothing in common after all and I don't have much she could want either. I am not like Athena who interests gods and mortals with strategy and wisdom. Though I soon figured that the goddess could not go to Athena like the others normally would.
I am the vultures that pick at the dead as they lay limp on the battlefields, I am the dogs that snarl and bite to keep themselves alive, and I am the serpents that inject poisons into their targets whether they are innocent or guilty. I slay mortals no matter if they were a king or a peasant, or a general or a soldier, or a conman or a good man. I represent the darkest, bloodiest parts of battle and have no remorse in the things I do.
To my own detriment, I for some reason made the foolish decision to help Lady Aphrodite. It was stupid, I knew it was when I made it. Mother would be furious with me when she found out, and Athena wouldn't be too happy either. Though if she really is the goddess of wisdom then maybe she should have seen it coming. But something in my soul had seen the eyes of the goddess as she asked me for help and took pity on her. I let her know that I did not care about her precious champion Paris and that I was only doing this for me. She laughed at me and stuck out her smooth, soft hand towards me. I asked her what she was doing and she told me with an amused look on her face that she wanted to shake my hand to make the agreement official. I rolled my eyes, but grabbed her hand anyway. My hands were calloused and rough. I was gentle when I took her hand but when she shook my hand I could feel the same hardness that lied in mine. Something inside me began to swell, making me snatch my hand back and slam the door. I leaned up against it and listened to her as she left.
Love is a foreign being to a god like me, the things I have done and seen would leave any god or goddess of love horrified. I am no Apollon, who inspires those he loves with music and poems. I am unlike Hermes, who impresses those he's interested in with quick wit and cunning. And frankly, I don't care to be. My love is harsh and unforgiving, just as a dog's is when it has gone mad. I am a cruel god who rarely holds others close, but when I do I hold them too tight. If a being can accept that, then I will be no more loyal than a dog. All that I am is all I am.