Mortal(God of War)

As I rapidly grew stronger and kept a close watch over Sparta, the world slowly yet inexorably marched toward the Hour of Darkness. One day, I had a chance to meet with Athena and this time, she told me much more.

The dark gods were striving to open Pandora's Box and unleash the Primordial Evil. If they succeeded, they would gain a power that not even the Olympians could rival. We could not allow their will to become reality. We could not allow them to touch the box.

So many conspiracies and intrigues... I want to believe Athena's words about a better future, and that we're fighting for the same goal. But her words are steeped in lies.

As I waited, spring arrived time of blooming and celebration. On one of these days, Demeter tried to distract me.

"Atreus," she began in a soft, caring voice. "Why sit here endlessly, exhausting yourself with training? I know your will is stronger than anyone's. But even you need rest. Otherwise, you'll break."

"We can't let our guard down now," I replied, my eyes fixed on the horizon.

"I'm watching. If anything changes, I'll tell you right away. You don't have to worry," said Demeter.

Her words kept repeating until the day of the festival, in constant attempts to persuade me to take a break. I pretended to give in to her pleas, but in truth, I only watched more intently. Sometimes, even the strongest must exhale, so they can rise again with renewed strength. After all, responsibility is always a heavy burden and under its weight, even the firmest shoulders may falter.

The festival in Demeter's honor drew near, as spring gave way to summer and the earth filled with new life. Everything around came alive fields bloomed again, and trees blossomed with fresh strength. People gathered to mark the turning of the cycle offering sacrifices to the goddess, presenting gifts, performing rituals.

This celebration was especially revered among women, for it touched not only agriculture, but also fertility and marriage. And what strengthens marriage more than the hearth? It is the woman who tends the fire and keeps the home warm.

Demeter brought me to a familiar village Chrysape where preparations were already in full swing. Women dressed up and adorned their homes, their kitchens filled with the aroma of dishes being prepared for the evening feast. Men set up tables, carried firewood for the bonfires, and hung decorations.

A few girls sat beneath a tree, weaving flower crowns and singing songs to the lilting sound of a small lyre:

"Summer's come with wine and song,

Scarlet poppies bloom so strong.

Lutes and lyres sing once more,

Peace returns to every shore.

Warm winds whisper, earth feels right

The soul of joy takes gentle flight.

Farewell to gloom, let laughter stay

The Muse of summer leads the way."

Come to think of it, Spartans rarely celebrated any festivals only three, to be exact. Two of them were games held in honor of Zeus and Ares. The former were contests of endurance, agility, and strength, conducted under Zeus's patronage as a sign of harmony and divine order. The latter were combat tournaments, where Spartans demonstrated their skill in battle, their devotion to arms and the warrior's spirit.

And then there was one more the Great Hunt. On this day, warriors ventured into the woods to bring down the largest beast they could find. That was it. For a Spartan, feasts and merriment were signs of weakness a waste of time and a poison to the mind.

"Can you feel the celebration?" Demeter asked.

"Yes," I nodded. "There's warmth and good cheer in the hearts of the people."

"This year, aside from this village, Sparta barely celebrates it at all," she said with sadness in her voice.

"Don't worry. Things will get better," I replied. But deep inside, I knew the conflict and the war to come would only make things worse. The dark thoughts of men would only empower our enemies, feeding the chaos.

Warriors, strife, the burdens of life all of it breeds shadow and despair in people's hearts, making them vulnerable to the whispers of the dark gods. You cannot make everyone happy. But perhaps… you can try to ensure that fewer people suffer.

"Enough of the gloom. Come, let's enjoy ourselves. Leave your weapon you won't need it today," Demeter said, and gently took my hand, leading me toward the center of the village.

You wouldn't think she was a goddess who had lived for thousands of years. In that moment, she seemed like a young woman ready to dive into the joy of the festival, into laughter, into simple human happiness.

I stopped by one of the houses and planted the spear into the ground. No one would lift it unless I willed it. Removing my helmet, I felt the soft spring breeze brush against my face. I turned the helmet in my hands, staring through the slits of the visor.

"A warrior only ends his battle when he no longer has the strength to fight," I whispered, gently lowering my helmet onto the spear. Then I walked toward Demeter, who had already joined the girls, weaving flower crowns with them.

I asked the men how I could help and gladly joined in their work.

By evening, everything had changed. The village no longer looked like itself the air was filled with the spirit of celebration. When the sun dipped below the horizon, bonfires were lit. Flames danced and bathed the surroundings in a mysterious, almost magical glow. Musicians took out their instruments and began to play. People sang songs at first hesitantly, then louder and bolder, until nearly the whole village was dancing.

Demeter pulled me into the circle of dancers. I didn't give in right away my movements were stiff and awkward. I must have looked ridiculous judging by Demeter's bright laughter. Not wanting to embarrass myself further, I sat down at the table and tried the delicious food.

"You look terribly familiar to me," said one of the men as he sat down across from me with a jug of wine. He poured two cups and offered me one, but I declined.

"I was in Creon's unit," I replied.

"Ah, now I remember... I heard Creon was badly wounded and could no longer fight. He retired, and his unit was disbanded. Sparta's army has grown patrols are everywhere now, and there's no more need for men like you," said Polidev, with a trace of bitterness.

"All things come to an end," I said quietly.

I knew Creon was alive, but I hadn't heard that his unit was no more. If I find a spare moment, I should visit him. A good commander might be needed especially in the times ahead.

"That's true. But it's a beautiful festival, isn't it?" said Polidev with a gentle smile. "When I was a Spartan, we were stripped of all worldly things. We knew only one purpose service. I came to this village when I was forty-five. And only in the twilight of my years did I finally find peace."

"There's only one way to stop being a Spartan when the spear slips from your cold fingers," I murmured. It was a thought hammered into us from childhood.

"Even now," Polidev continued, "at night I sometimes reach for my spear. In the first years here, I slept in armor, with my weapon by my bed. Every day I think about lifting the wooden hatch in the floor and taking out my gear. Sometimes I even miss the feeling of blood running down the blade, the clash of steel, the fury of battle… but every time, I pull myself back."

"You've lived many years. Tell me… can a Spartan truly change?" I asked, never breaking eye contact.

"Change?" he repeated, reflecting. Then slowly raised his eyes to the night sky."They can. But only if something gives them a reason to."

So what is it...that can truly change everything?