"I am only my own-
half blooming creation,
half blazing hellfire."
Some romances are legendary.
<<A retelling of the myth of Hades and Persephone>>
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Ares arrived with the splendour of a thousand kings.
White horses pulled a sleek chariot of gold engraved with details so finely etched that Persephone had to squint her eyes to see that they depicted a scene of a battle, the curves of fallen bodies and faces filled with anguish gleaming in the light of the setting sun.
She stood by her mother near the entrance to their home, with her hands clasped in front of her in a gesture of false demureness. She could feel her fingernails digging half-moons into her hands when her mother pressed a hand to her back, a reminder, a warning, to act like the perfect maiden they all thought she was.
The door of the chariot flew open and a flash of brown feathers flew out and soared into the air. The falcon circled high above them and let out a piercing caw, the shriek like a fevered prayer, before landing on one of the metal spires that protruded from the chariot's roof.
"She's been dying to stretch her wings." A leather boot stepped out of the chariot, and Ares stood before them, towering above both Persephone and Demeter. "She made such a ruckus on the way here I was tempted to shut her up for good," he continued, patting the hilt of the sword strapped to his hip with a calloused hand.
Persephone felt a shudder pass through her body, and even Demeter's face held a shadow of horror before she bowed her head in greeting.
"Ares," she said, lifting her head. "How nice to see you again. I trust your trip here was pleasant?" Her hand was still pressed to Persephone's back and she could feel her mother's fingers curl into her skin. She hastily bowed her own head, and Demeter's grip loosened infinitesimally.
The god of war gave a dismissive hum. "Yes, yes. It was pleasant enough."
Persephone peeked up from behind her eyelashes. He was staring at her, a leer chipped onto his face, twisted and unnatural as if the sculptor had been using a blunt chisel when carving out his smile. Blunt described Ares well. His face was full of hard planes and crooked lines, nothing smooth and continuous. He looked like a project abandoned by its artists, still in the rough sketch stages.
"Persephone, how lovely to see you again." His lips were still twisted into a grin. She wondered if he knew what "lovely" meant. He looked like he had never encountered any semblance of lovely before in his life, the word coming out harsh and jarring.
Lifting her head, Persephone curved her lips into a crescent smile. "It is quite lovely to see you again as well, Ares." She unfurled her fingers from their position clasped in front of her and sank into a curtsy.
She felt his eyes rake down her figure slowly and back up. "Still as beautiful as ever. Pretty as a flower." He gave a throaty chuckle that sounded more like a growl, amused with his own cleverness. Revulsion rolled in Persephone's stomach. From all the suitors that had visited her, he was the worst so far.
