Chapter 16

The sky raged. Lightning split the sky, revealing the two warring figures who were slick with sweat, each roaring with the thunder that cracked above them.

“Icelus!” called one of the beings, heavily armored in a breastplate and leg-plates of shining gold and a helm that was formed with outstretched wings. He wielded a heavy spear in one hand, and a shield depicting a wild dog. His eyes burned a deep red.

“End this now, otherwise this battlefield will be your last.”

Lightning once again lit the sky, showing the being known as Icelus in all his glory. He was naked except for silver leg-plates, and his brown eyes burned as fiercely as his adversary, except that they were tinged with a certain playfulness. From his back, two, jet black wings flapped languidly as he hovered above the ground, a golden sword held firmly in his hands. (More fighting)

“Ares,” he clicked his tongue, “When will you learn that I have risen above you in power. Above even Zeus himself!”

“Lies,” Ares spat, his spear coming to bear as he rushed at the black-winged being with a cry that sent spittle into his black beard.

Icelus swept away the spear's tip with a deft hand. His eyes narrowed, evil and cunning.(More fighting)

“Who is it you dream of, my immortal brother? A certain daughter? One who joined you in battle...” he smirked, “When she was alive.”

Ares paled and his hands shook for a moment before he gripped his spear with a new fervor.

“She is immortal, you snake, you keeper of lies. She cannot be harmed.”

“By a human,” Icelus answered quickly and with relish, “By a lesser, weaker god, to be sure. But by me? Your dear Adrestia is gone, Ares.”

He watched as Ares paused, reaching out for his loved ones. One was missing. His favorite. The one who followed him into the fray whenever possible and always renewed his spirit by fighting at his side.

“You monstrous, despicable creature...” he breathed. Accompanying the next crack of thunder was Ares' battle yell, a high, primal one laced with loss and hurt. The golden sword lashed forward, snapping the spear in half. Icelus held it firmly at Ares' throat.

“She screamed as she died, as I defiled her,” he purred close to the defeated god's ear. “She even called out your name, for help. Help that did not come before her end.”

Ares' eyes widened at such callousness before narrowing in an anger and misery that was nearly tangible on the open battlefield.

“End it,” he said tonelessly.

“Oh, you know as well as I that you cannot be defeated by a mere sword, no matter how powerful it is. You will be my messenger, Ares. Tell Zeus I am coming for him and his beloved Olympus. Tell him I have the power of a hundred- thousand nightmares to fuel me. When your immortal body wakes, tell him his downfall is at hand.”

Icelus slashed the sword mercilessly, creating a gash in Ares' throat that bled molten gold. He tried to say something, to yell a response, but all that emerged was a helpless gurgle as his eyes rolled back and he fell forward into the dirt.