Son of War

Fates: Vendetta

The time has come. They went to the station earlier so they can sit in the compartment.

"Father, why the Fates are sending us here?"

"Maybe to punish me, Atreus. Or maybe they really want to protect someone."

"To punish you? But why?"

"Because I destroyed Olympus."

A recognisable boy sit next to them. It was Harry Potter. He was looking at them and trying to figure out who they are.

Then Ron Weasley came and he got all the attention. From Harry Potter though, because he talked about him like a god. Train started to move.

Draco's smirk widened as he looked Ron up and down. "Ah, the Weasley line. Always so... common, aren't they?"

Ron straightened in his seat, his ears reddening. "And you're the shining example of class, Malfoy? I'd take my family's warmth over your cold vaults any day."

Harry, glancing between the two, tried to ease the tension. "Come on, guys, no need for—"

Draco cut him off, "Potter, you should know your place. Blood will always matter more than your fake heroics."

Ron shot back, "At least my family doesn't have to buy their way into everything. You've got a lot of gold, sure, but it doesn't buy manners or character."

Draco scoffed, "I'd rather have gold than a name no one respects."

The tension hung thick in the air as both boys glared daggers at each other, Harry uncomfortably stuck in the middle.

Draco turned his attention to Kratos, a sly grin playing on his lips. "And you, Kratos. I'm not familiar with your name or lineage, but I must say, you look quite... regal, powerful even. You can be my friend anytime you wish." His tone carried a hint of condescension, an undertone that subtly suggested superiority.

Kratos regarded Draco with a calm yet piercing gaze, his features inscrutable. "Friendship isn't easily granted, especially to those who underestimate their company," he replied in measured tones, each word chosen with careful consideration.

Draco's expression flickered momentarily, a hint of surprise crossing his face before he composed himself. "Underestimate? Oh, no, certainly not, Kratos," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I recognize power and prestige when I see it. Our alliance could be... beneficial."

Kratos remained unfazed. "I will consider your proposal," he replied evenly, his voice carrying an air of guarded reservation.

"May I ask where you're from?" inquired Draco, curiosity edging into his voice.

Kratos hesitated briefly before responding, his tone measured. "I am from a place far from here, a land steeped in history and legacy."

Draco's intrigue heightened, evident in the way his eyes widened slightly. "Really? I'd wager there's quite a story behind that," he mused, trying to pry further into Kratos's enigmatic origins.

Kratos remained reserved, offering no more insight. "There is always a story," he replied cryptically, shifting the conversation away from his past.

"I don't want a lot to know thinking that privacy is important to you but if it's not private can you tell me your story a little? I understand that you don't trust me but if you tell your story a little I will tell all my story." Said Draco.

Kratos remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the passing landscape outside the train window. "My story is one of immense battles and relentless pursuits for revenge. It's not a tale I'd easily share, Draco."