Mortal(God of War)

"For Athens! Kill these barbarians!" one of the Athenians roared, charging forward.

"For Sparta!" I shouted back.

The spear I had picked up from a wounded soldier sank into the first enemy. Shielding myself from another blow, I crouched and struck his leg with the tip of the spear. He howled and stumbled, giving me just enough time to step back, narrowly avoiding a deadly thrust from a third attacker. The enemy's spear whistled past my ear.

Everything felt outside of time. I could feel the battle on my skin. I saw everything every step, every breath, every moment. My mind was terrifyingly clear, as if I were watching the battlefield from above, already knowing what would happen in the next second.

But the moment I gave myself fully to that feeling, a blade slid across the exposed part of my thigh and sank deep into the flesh.

I clenched my teeth. Leaving the spear in a fallen foe, I drew my sword.

The enemy was still trying to pull his weapon from my leg when I drove my blade beneath his armor, straight into his gut. He choked, staggered, and collapsed.

Only then did I realize how badly I was hurt. Blood poured down my body from countless open wounds. My shield was cracked and dented, my helmet scratched and beaten one gash had come dangerously close to my eye.

My body trembled from the strain. I had entered a battle frenzy, and if not for the wound in my leg, I might never have noticed how much blood I'd lost.

The remaining Athenians were finished off without me. I dropped to one knee, tying a strip of cloth just above the wound. Pain pulsed through my leg, but it was the only way to stop the bleeding without wasting time.

"That's a serious wound. You need a healer, fast," said Damipp, inspecting my leg carefully.

"I know," I replied curtly.

"Should we leave the blade in?" he asked.

"Let it stay. It'll do more good than harm," I said, struggling to my feet with his help.

"Let's head to the rendezvous point. There's nothing left for us here," I added.

Our mission was complete more than complete. We had burned their supplies, destroyed their tents, sown chaos in the enemy camp, and wiped out their vanguard. All that remained was to retreat and hope Kratos would crush the rest of their army.

We had marched for quite some time when the air suddenly filled with the scent of burning. I raised my hand to halt the squad and drew in a deep breath. My lungs burned. This wasn't just smoke this was something worse.

I looked to the sky. Thick black columns of smoke rose high, blotting out the sun.

What could be burning like that...?

Something twisted inside me. The pieces fell into place.

"Run! Now! Move!" I shouted. "Fast!"

It was a forest fire.

The flames couldn't have spread from the Athenian camp on their own the distance was too great. This had to be intentional, a mad attempt to burn us alive in the forest. Their hatred had reached its peak. Maybe they hated Kratos that much. Or maybe it was me maybe destroying their supplies had driven them to this madness.

The fire roared like a beast, drawing closer by the minute. We were directly in its path.

"Cut the trees!" I commanded. "Build a barrier slow the fire!"

It was a desperate move. But just ahead lay barley fields, sparse trees. If we cut fast enough, we might stop the flames from spreading. Just a few clearings. Just a little time. Fortunately, we had axes we'd brought them to prepare traps.

Had we lingered even a moment longer, the fire would have swallowed us. I had never seen flames so fierce. Everything deeper in the woods was lost. No one could survive the heart of that blaze. The fate of Kratos's army may well have been decided in that inferno.

With that thought, I gave the order to return to the rendezvous point.

In that moment, I nearly forgot about the wound in my leg.

Several hours had passed since we returned to the rally point a small camp where all the wounded sought shelter. My wound had been dressed, and I was finally allowed a moment's rest.

"They're here… our army," Damipp said as he approached.

"Help me. I want to see them," I said, struggling to sit up.

He took my arm and helped me to the edge of the camp.

But it wasn't an army.

It was a handful of survivors.

At the front walked Kratos covered in ash and soot, stained with blood. There was no pain or fear on his face only a quiet, burning rage. There was something in his eyes, something unsettling, as though I wasn't looking at a man anymore… but at what he was destined to become. A future god-slayer.

The soldiers behind him looked like they had walked through the depths of Hades. Burned faces, torn and charred clothing, bodies broken and bleeding. No more than ten remained.

I closed my eyes and bowed my head, honoring the fallen.

How many had died? Why was I still alive after so many battles?

Kratos came to a halt and began to speak, his voice deep and hollow:

"We struck the western flank. Hit them hard, without warning. The Athenians faltered. They broke the siege and turned their entire force on us. We completed the mission... I gave the order to retreat." He paused, then added bitterly,

"But they set the forest ablaze. They chose to burn us all."

Another pause. His gaze darkened.

"The whole army fled, but we didn't reach the river in time. The fire caught us."

He sat heavily on the ground nearby and said nothing more.

He showed no emotion, but I could see it he was hurting too. He had lost too many. And though he appeared composed, this wasn't just a military unit to him. These were men who trusted him, who followed him and he had led them to death. He was their commander, and now he bore the weight of that defeat. Sparta would claim victory, but Kratos had lost his army. And yet… it wasn't his fault.

I had never heard of anyone setting fire to a forest just to destroy an enemy. Both armies became victims fire does not choose between friend and foe. All life, everything within that inferno, was lost.

Smoke still crept along the blackened remains of the forest. Burnt trees jutted up to the sky like charred spears. Even from here, distant flashes of flame were still visible. Then the sky darkened. Clouds seemed to be drawn in from every direction. Lightning split the heavens. A storm was brewing, and thunder shook the air.

"Zeus," Kratos muttered under his breath.

Hmph. Why did he say it like that? Like it meant something more. Just like his brother… They took everything from him because of a prophecy. The marks on his brother's body just like the ones from that vision. And that scar above his eye… it appeared the very day of the abduction.

The thunder grew louder. Storm clouds swallowed the sky. The first drop of rain landed on my skin. Then a second. A third. And then a downpour.

What was this? Did the gods intervene at last? Had they decided to douse the flames now that there was nothing left to save?

So this is how the war ends. After this, who would ever want to continue it?

Maybe this whole massacre was Ares' doing. His madness had driven us against each other until all was reduced to ash. Hopefully, one of the gods finally struck him down and a couple of those lightning bolts flashing above us went straight into his arrogant ass.

From our entire generation of Spartans, only five remained alive.

Five. That was all. The once-great army from the agoge young men, sixteen to twenty years old was dead.

How many of us are left in the camp now? A hundred, maybe? That means over ten thousand soldiers died in just three days, from both sides combined.

An impossible number.

And somewhere out there, in another part of the battlefield, Sparta's army was still fighting against a force three times its size.

How many more had died there?

I needed strength to break these chains. If the Moirai truly existed the Sisters of Fate who guide all mortals then I prayed they'd loosen their grip.

Kratos once said:

"The hands of death are nothing to me. The Sisters of Fate are no obstacle."

And death did seem to avoid him.

I looked at him again.

The rain grew heavier. The earth beneath us turned soft, sticky. Streams of water ran down the slopes, washing away the blood and ash flowing like rivers of blood. It was as if nature itself was weeping crimson tears.

"Help me back," I whispered to Damipp, who stood silently, watching the storm rage in the sky.

Yes… I'd never seen lightning rip the sky like that. It was awe-inspiring.

Divine.

I made it back to my place, lay down, and closed my eyes.

Maybe now… I'd finally get some real rest.