Kamaria -
The air was heavy with anticipation, thick with the scent of earth and tension, as Ares and his warriors descended upon Ife-Ikoro. The sky, usually so open and clear, now seemed strained under the weight of their divine presence. Thunder rumbled in the distance, though no storm came, as though the land itself knew the god of war had arrived.
Amaria and I stood cloaked in the shadows of the trees at the village's edge, my heart thundering in my chest. She was here to protect me, in case the warriors of Ares came. The warriors of Olympus had finally arrived, and I had no intention of letting them see me. I wasn't foolish enough to think I could stand against them—but I wasn't about to make myself known, either, at least not yet.
I'd heard the stories of Ares, the god who reveled in destruction, the god who tore nations apart with a mere word. His reputation alone could send ripples of fear through the air, and now, here he was, in the flesh.
He stood tall, his armor gleaming in the weak light of the setting sun, his eyes filled with the fire of battle. The Warriors followed him like shadows, a swarm of power and might, but it was Ares who commanded attention. The way he carried himself—his confidence, his arrogance—was something that could never be ignored.
I couldn't help but watch him. There was a certain allure to his presence, a magnetic force that drew the eyes even when you knew you should look away. His voice, low and commanding, echoed across the landscape as he addressed his warriors, preparing them for the war that would soon come.
The warriors of Ife-Ikoro were no strangers to battle, but facing gods… that was a different kind of challenge. I knew the villagers, the warriors, they could feel it too—the weight of the war descending upon them.
My breath caught in my throat.
No, Kamaria. Don't forget yourself.
Ares was the enemy. The same enemy Ogunyemi had warned me about. The same enemy that threatened everything I held dear.
Still, there was a part of me, deep down, that couldn't ignore the god's allure. The way he commanded respect without even speaking, the fire in his eyes that promised destruction and chaos. He was a god of war, a being forged in the crucible of violence. And for a brief, dangerous moment, I saw what he was—the embodiment of power in its purest, most unrestrained form.
But no matter how compelling his presence, I knew my place. I had to remain hidden, unseen. He could not know I was here. They would destroy me without hesitation.
I tightened my grip on the stone that hung around my neck.
No matter how powerful he is, I will not let myself be swayed.
I turned my gaze away from Ares and his warriors, forcing myself to breathe. My father's teachings echoed in my mind: peace, balance, life. War was never the answer, and I would never let it consume me like it had consumed so many others.
But as I took one last, lingering look at the god of war, my heart whispered a question: What if?
What if there was a way to stop this madness before it began? What if there was a way to turn the tide before more lives were lost?
I shook my head. It was foolish to think like that. The war was coming, whether I wanted it or not. And Ares? He was not a hero to be admired, no matter how strong he appeared.
I will not be drawn to him.
I glanced back once more, my eyes meeting his for a brief, intense moment, before quickly looking away.
The battle was upon us. And in the end, it was not Ares' strength I had to fear—it was the choices I would have to make in the days to come.