The War God's Woman 3

1. Prince of the Underworld

The skies in the underworld belonged to the harpies. Not to birds. Nothing as pretty as a bird lived in the Underworld. The shrieks and cries of harpies were the blood chilling chirps of Tartarus.

These winged creatures arced across the sky in a formation, creating a black vortex. In the frantic squawks, the harpies gossiped and exchanged news.

The dark fog below them was illuminated only sporadically by craters of green fire. In these fiery pits were the souls of those who had committed the worst crimes. Harpies flapped their leathery wings, flying in swarms through the fog. Their shrieks echoed in the dark, warning the immortals.

Tartarus had once again lost an infamous prisoner.

A roar filled the dark and Ares' chariot thundered across the underworld's sky. The chariot was pulled by monstrous creatures. Their scaled bodies seemed to swim with violent speed through the air. Eyeless, they obeyed only the sting of Ares' whip as he urged them forwards.

The death god was glorious – dressed in an armour to inspire fear. A red eye, taken from a gorgon twitched in his headdress – glaring out at the world. A black cloak unfurled behind him, revealing the harsh edges of his obsidian breast plate. His handsome face was hollow, devoid of feeling, as he pursued the escaped prisoner.

The harpies cawed and wailed at him, warning him of the imminent danger.

Ares' lips twitched into a sadistic smile.

Ares was the Prince of the Underworld, tasked with discovering how the Titans had escaped their bonds, and with returning them to the foulest depths of hell. He was a man possessed in his pursuit of the titan's followers. It consumed him.

Secretly, he knew that the mission was saving him from falling into despair and madness.

                            Phlegethon, the river of fire spat and hissed. Ares had found his target – a servant of the titans – who was trying to escape across the river. Ares' beasts landed – their claws ripping up the charred banks of the river. Ares leapt over the side of his chariot and raised a gloved hand. The small boat on the river began to move against the current – obediently answering Ares' summons.

Once the boat knocked against the soil at Ares' feet, he lowered his hand and inhaled – breathing in his opponent's fear. Ares pulled out his sword, his expression devoid of feeling.

"Please forgive me!" Wailed the traitorous sprite. "Spare my soul. Allow me to reincarnate!" She pleaded, her eyes rolling back in her beaky head.

The creature screamed as her body broke apart. Ares watched, satisfied when she dissolved into dust and dispersed with a whispered wail to the flames of the phlegethon river.

No mercy. No chance of reincarnation.

**

                        The hunt over, Ares returned to his chambers in Hecate's palace.

Hecate's followers bowed their heads as Ares past them, being careful to stay out of his way. No one wanted to interact with Ares.

"He was an Olympian once." Hissed one priest to his acolyte. "But see how the snakes follow him. He's falling into the darkness. He'll be a monster soon."

"A monster?"

The priest nodded solemnly. He checked that no one could hear their whispers.

"It's rumoured that Cerberus was a god once. He used to turn into a three-headed hell hound at will. But after Cronos' fall – he lost the power to turn back again. And became the monster that guards the gate."