November 18th, 2012
The Amazon was teeming with life, even at night, as the creatures of the day took their rest, and the creatures of the night came alive, all of them vying for survival in the wild untamed beauty that was still untouched by mankind. One creature stood apart from the rest in his solitary, self-imposed isolation. One creature who was different from all the rest, neither man nor beast. One creature who had been born of a race so old they had nearly been forgotten by the rest of creation, fading from the memories of men long ago. They had waited long to return to power, to return to the hearts and minds of men. One of them had come to call the Amazon his home, and it was there he had waited for the great war between heaven and hell to be finished, and for men to remember. It was there he now rested,along with the creatures of the forest he so loved, weary and wounded and heartsick with worry over a woman he was slowly starting to love.
He had laid himself down on the cool grass to rest, but unable to sleep, laid awake staring up at the stars in the night sky, wondering if he was doing the right thing, choosing the right path; wondering if the future that had been foretold to him would surely come to pass, or if he was fated to be forever alone, forever an outcast from his own kind, forever apart.
Few beings make such an impression upon a place as an Olympian. It was virtually impossible to miss the arrival of any of his kind close by, but this visitor was particularly difficult to ignore. Tall and beautiful, but filled with a steel will few could consistently stand against - even her husband had given in, finally - Hera emerged from the darkness around her eldest son, looking down at him expectantly. "I really do wish you and your father could at least hold a civil conversation every now and then," she commented mildly. "Not that I mind being the bearer of news. It's the only chance I have to see you at all these days."
"Mother!" Ares exclaimed, rolling quickly to his feet, obviously startled by this sudden and unexpected visit from her, of all people. He had not yet found a shirt to replace the torn and bloodied one he'd left with Ayden, the wound incurred in his scuffle with the Fates not yet healed. "What are you doing here?" he asked, not displeased to see her, but presuming she had most likely come to scold him about one thing or another.
"Is a mother not allowed to visit her son?" Hera asked him pointedly, though he was right about there being an ulterior motive. She had not, however, come to scold him, but to bring a suggestion as to how he might, finally, win back his father's approval. "Don't think your activities have gone unnoticed, Ares. The breaking of the Fates has sent ripples through the world, consequences that are long overdue."
"Is it enough to make up for Troy?" he asked, unable to hide the bitterness from his voice. He thought it had been long enough that his sins and mistakes should be forgiven by now, but Zeus was not one to forgive easily. "There is still one left," he reminded her, though without her sisters, Clotho's power had been severely diminished.
Hera's expression darkened momentarily at the mention of Troy. That particular disaster had begun with an insult she had taken deeply to heart, which was why Ares had been pulled into it in the first place. He had always been a good son to her, and her past mistakes had plunged him into any number of bad situations. She brushed that aside, however, leveling her silvery gaze on her eldest child. "I would suggest that destroying the Spinner will gain, if not Zeus' love, then his gratitude. It would be a good place to start. If you then present him with a mortal worthy of you to be your consort, you may yet regain your welcome on Olympus."
Her suggestion caused his expression to change, a brief look of surprise on his face before it was quickly hidden behind a mask of grief and bitterness. He knew he'd made plenty of mistakes, but what father does not forgive their own child and welcome them home, after a time" "Did he send you to speak for him, or did you come of your own accord?" Ares asked as he settled himself back upon the cool grass.
"We have discussed it," she informed him, though that hardly answered his question. She had been working on Zeus for millenia to forgive the mistakes of their past reign, but only now, with Hades threatening to destroy the Earth they loved so well, had the King of the Olympians begun to soften in his view of those children who had stood against him at one time or another. A sharp look lanced down to Ares. "I do not act as messenger for any being, as you well know."
That was little answer, and he had to assume that she had come of her own accord. Was his father so ashamed of his son that he would not come see him for himself, or was he just too proud" Ares' demeanor softened at his mother's reply. He had no reason to be angry with her, though she had not always been pleased with him in the past. "I have only ever wished to please him and make him proud," Ares pointed out. "I do not know why he hates me so."
"Because you are the living testament who laid down judgement on his infidelities in my defense," Hera told him, her voice quiet but strong in the deafening stillness of the rainforest around them. "You stood for me and my honor when he could do nothing but insult and degrade me, and though you have fallen, you drew yourself up once more before he ever considered such an action for himself. We are petty in our jealousies, Ares, and your father can be pettier than most."
"I am not jealous any longer, Mother," he admitted, gravely. He'd had millenia to think on things and to reflect on his choices. Yes, he'd been jealous of Hephaestus; his love for Aphrodite had been true, and he'd felt cheated of that love by his own father and disgraced in front of his own people. And yes, he'd been jealous of Athena. He had felt it had been his rightful place to be his father's champion, and yet Zeus had favored a daughter not born of Hera over his eldest son. But all of that was in the past and no longer mattered. What Ares wanted now was to prove his own worth and be allowed to make his own choices and live his own life, not as an outcast, but as an Olympian.
"You have made a good beginning," his mother told him, as certain of that as she could ever have been. "You have his attention. But to leave a battle undecided, unfinished - to leave an enemy free and unhampered by injury or mutilation - these are not the ways of the God of War. Whether your heart has been touched or not, you cannot allow it to soften you in war. The Spinner must die."
The Amazon was teeming with life, even at night, as the creatures of the day took their rest, and the creatures of the night came alive, all of them vying for survival in the wild untamed beauty that was still untouched by mankind. One creature stood apart from the rest in his solitary, self-imposed isolation. One creature who was different from all the rest, neither man nor beast. One creature who had been born of a race so old they had nearly been forgotten by the rest of creation, fading from the memories of men long ago. They had waited long to return to power, to return to the hearts and minds of men. One of them had come to call the Amazon his home, and it was there he had waited for the great war between heaven and hell to be finished, and for men to remember. It was there he now rested,along with the creatures of the forest he so loved, weary and wounded and heartsick with worry over a woman he was slowly starting to love.
He had laid himself down on the cool grass to rest, but unable to sleep, laid awake staring up at the stars in the night sky, wondering if he was doing the right thing, choosing the right path; wondering if the future that had been foretold to him would surely come to pass, or if he was fated to be forever alone, forever an outcast from his own kind, forever apart.
Few beings make such an impression upon a place as an Olympian. It was virtually impossible to miss the arrival of any of his kind close by, but this visitor was particularly difficult to ignore. Tall and beautiful, but filled with a steel will few could consistently stand against - even her husband had given in, finally - Hera emerged from the darkness around her eldest son, looking down at him expectantly. "I really do wish you and your father could at least hold a civil conversation every now and then," she commented mildly. "Not that I mind being the bearer of news. It's the only chance I have to see you at all these days."
"Mother!" Ares exclaimed, rolling quickly to his feet, obviously startled by this sudden and unexpected visit from her, of all people. He had not yet found a shirt to replace the torn and bloodied one he'd left with Ayden, the wound incurred in his scuffle with the Fates not yet healed. "What are you doing here?" he asked, not displeased to see her, but presuming she had most likely come to scold him about one thing or another.
"Is a mother not allowed to visit her son?" Hera asked him pointedly, though he was right about there being an ulterior motive. She had not, however, come to scold him, but to bring a suggestion as to how he might, finally, win back his father's approval. "Don't think your activities have gone unnoticed, Ares. The breaking of the Fates has sent ripples through the world, consequences that are long overdue."
"Is it enough to make up for Troy?" he asked, unable to hide the bitterness from his voice. He thought it had been long enough that his sins and mistakes should be forgiven by now, but Zeus was not one to forgive easily. "There is still one left," he reminded her, though without her sisters, Clotho's power had been severely diminished.
Hera's expression darkened momentarily at the mention of Troy. That particular disaster had begun with an insult she had taken deeply to heart, which was why Ares had been pulled into it in the first place. He had always been a good son to her, and her past mistakes had plunged him into any number of bad situations. She brushed that aside, however, leveling her silvery gaze on her eldest child. "I would suggest that destroying the Spinner will gain, if not Zeus' love, then his gratitude. It would be a good place to start. If you then present him with a mortal worthy of you to be your consort, you may yet regain your welcome on Olympus."
Her suggestion caused his expression to change, a brief look of surprise on his face before it was quickly hidden behind a mask of grief and bitterness. He knew he'd made plenty of mistakes, but what father does not forgive their own child and welcome them home, after a time" "Did he send you to speak for him, or did you come of your own accord?" Ares asked as he settled himself back upon the cool grass.
"We have discussed it," she informed him, though that hardly answered his question. She had been working on Zeus for millenia to forgive the mistakes of their past reign, but only now, with Hades threatening to destroy the Earth they loved so well, had the King of the Olympians begun to soften in his view of those children who had stood against him at one time or another. A sharp look lanced down to Ares. "I do not act as messenger for any being, as you well know."
That was little answer, and he had to assume that she had come of her own accord. Was his father so ashamed of his son that he would not come see him for himself, or was he just too proud" Ares' demeanor softened at his mother's reply. He had no reason to be angry with her, though she had not always been pleased with him in the past. "I have only ever wished to please him and make him proud," Ares pointed out. "I do not know why he hates me so."
"Because you are the living testament who laid down judgement on his infidelities in my defense," Hera told him, her voice quiet but strong in the deafening stillness of the rainforest around them. "You stood for me and my honor when he could do nothing but insult and degrade me, and though you have fallen, you drew yourself up once more before he ever considered such an action for himself. We are petty in our jealousies, Ares, and your father can be pettier than most."
"I am not jealous any longer, Mother," he admitted, gravely. He'd had millenia to think on things and to reflect on his choices. Yes, he'd been jealous of Hephaestus; his love for Aphrodite had been true, and he'd felt cheated of that love by his own father and disgraced in front of his own people. And yes, he'd been jealous of Athena. He had felt it had been his rightful place to be his father's champion, and yet Zeus had favored a daughter not born of Hera over his eldest son. But all of that was in the past and no longer mattered. What Ares wanted now was to prove his own worth and be allowed to make his own choices and live his own life, not as an outcast, but as an Olympian.
"You have made a good beginning," his mother told him, as certain of that as she could ever have been. "You have his attention. But to leave a battle undecided, unfinished - to leave an enemy free and unhampered by injury or mutilation - these are not the ways of the God of War. Whether your heart has been touched or not, you cannot allow it to soften you in war. The Spinner must die."