40. Hestia's Hearth

"Nephew." Hades' voice was raspy and a forked tongue of blue flame flashed briefly from between his pointed teeth.

"I want to be alone." Ares growled, not looking up at the god of death. Ares was sat beneath an ancient tree, his back warmed against the bark. In his dark mood, he'd felt a strange affinity with the dying tree spirits of the doomed woodland.

"What we want – is unimportant." There was a harsh edge to Hades' voice but Ares ignored him. "I wouldn't have come looking for you, for no reason." Hades hissed.

A wind rustled through the trees, causing leaves to brush against the hem of Hades' cloak. Once a curling leaf touched the dark material, it seemed to drain completely of life. Ares watched the leaves shrivel to withered husks before disintegrating to dust.

"What's upset you, uncle?"

"There's trouble on Olympus."

Ares snorted.

"That's no longer my concern."

"Ares," Hades snarled angrily – cold blue flame flashing dangerously in his eyes. "Hestia's hearth is burning bright. It's a beacon – requesting aide."

Ares frowned. Hestia had been Zeus and Hades' elder sister. The legendary goddess of fire. The stories told about her barely scratched the surface of her life and legacy. She'd died a long time ago, but her spirit could be found in a fire's warmth. If the beacon of Olympus was lit, then Hestia's spirit was trying to send them a warning.

"Have you gone to look?"

"I tried. The gates are sealed shut. But if we combine your power with mine, we might be able to breach them. Come, nephew."

But Ares' didn't stand. "War god?!" Hades snarled angrily.

"I don't serve you, yet." Ares reminded him. Hades' expression was livid.

"Olympus needs you!"

But Ares shook his head.

"Olympus made it's choice."

Almost a year ago...

The Exile of Ares:

"Father," Ares looked up to where his father, the king of the gods, was sat on a dais. Judging him. But Zeus wouldn't look him in the eye.

"You've disappointed me, Ares." He murmured. Ares' eyes blazed.

"No, father. You've disappointed me."

It was his trial and Ares was being judged by his fellow eleven Olympians. And, looking around, Ares realised that none of them were going to speak up for him. Ares' gaze lingered on Aphrodite. The woman he'd loved for thousands of years. Ice seemed to leech into his blood.

"Ares, you must pay for your crime." The King of the Gods intoned. Ares' temper snapped.

"Why? When you've never paid for yours!"

The court was in shock and Zeus' face clouded over with anger. A lightening bolt shot from Zeus' fist. Ares reacted quickly. His sword materialised in his grip and the bolt deflected off the blade. Ares' heart thudded. His father had very nearly killed him. Zeus' expression was one of regret.

"Ares..." He breathed. But Ares' amber glare was fixed on the scorch marks on the pillar behind his head.

Ares trembled, but not from fear. From anger.

"Nothing I say will move you, will it?" He spat, glaring at his family. "I have spilt blood for the glory of this realm! But now it's mine that you want." Ares raised the sword. The gods rose to their feet in alarm, thinking that he meant to attack them. But Ares used the swords edge on himself. "LET ME SPILL IT FOR YOU!"

Gold blood ran down the hilt of his sword.

"ENOUGH!" Zeus roared, enraged. Zeus appeared in front of his son. With a fierce grip, he restrained Ares' hand. "How dare you spill blood in my presence!"

"It was my own!"

"Which makes it worse!" Zeus was more furious than Ares had ever seen him. "From this day on, you are no longer the crown prince of Olympus!"

Father and son glared at one another, the courtroom tiles cracking beneath their feet. "You are exiled from my kingdom!"

Thunder roared in Ares' ears and he fell.

Ares gasped, the cold air of the human world seeming to strike at his lungs. Rain pounded down in a deluge and soaked down the neck of his armour. He staggered back in shock. He'd been cast out.

Tears pricked his glowing eyes.

"You can have it." A woman's voice came from close by. Ares peered through the downpour and saw two mortals speaking together. "All of it. But for a price." The woman's voice was harsh.

"I'll pay you back-" the male started to promise but the girl shook her head.

"If you take this money, then you never come near me again. Don't even think of me as your daughter. Because I won't think of you as my dad."

She balled her hands into fists at her sides. "This will be the end for us."

Ares' eyes narrowed as he watched the girl's father step back – unable to look her in the eye. Ares clenched his hands into fists. The man turned and left, leaving his daughter standing frozen in the rain. Caught in the eye of the storm, the rest of the world seemed gone and obliterated. Ares' couldn't make out the buildings around them and the howling wind drowned out the sounds of mortals and their technology. The mortal girl hadn't even noticed him standing behind her.

Golden blood dripped from Ares' sword. His blood. Thunder bellowed across the sky and Ares' rage blazed within him. This was exactly his father's trick – to cast him down to earth and have this be the first sight he witness - a parent rejecting their child.

The storm raged and the lonely war god sank to his lowest depths. He stalked the mortal father he'd seen depart with a bag of money. The weak-spined man begged when Ares closed in on him. But Ares was in no mood for mercy. He slashed the pathetic weasel with his sword – slicing the man in half before casting his hand over the broken remains and burning them up.

The foul deed done, Ares picked up the bag of money and slung it across his shoulder. He would use this money to smooth his transition into this new world, until he found a servant to serve him. He'd spend it better then the mortal would have anyway, he reasoned.

The mortal girl's savings wouldn't go to waste.

Present day:

"You're refusing to help?!" Hades questioned, incredulous.

"Hephaestus is the crown prince now." Ares retorted. "He'll defend Olympus from its enemies – be they demons or giants. This isn't my fight."

Hade's gaze went cold.

"Ares...You never fail to disappoint." And with that, the god of death vanished.

Ares sighed and tilted his head back against the tree bark. The wind ruffled his perfect locks and blew across his handsome face. Did Sage feel the same way? He wondered, sadly.

Was she disappointed by the love of a war god?