No More Olympus

Chapter 1

Thousands of years ago...

A cold wind blew over the field, whistling through the grass and echoing through the nearby mountains.
If a spectator were to be sitting in the village just beyond the mountain range, all they would have heard was the wind bouncing off of the stone face of the hills.
That and the sharpening of blades.
The Spartans and the Athenians were preparing to go to war.
Now anyone who kept up with Greek politics would be unsurprised by this news, for the two had been fighting a war for years, fighting for control of their homeland of Greece at the time known as Hellas.
But one might be surprised to hear that the two had formed an alliance. An uneasy alliance of course but an alliance nonetheless.
The two warring nations had put aside their differences for the time being to conquer a greater enemy, an enemy that they believed would lead to the end of their race,
The Gods of Olympus.
Two armies stationed side by side faced down the home of the gods and were preparing for their final siege.
A tension quivered through the two armies while their generals stationed by the front lines discussed their battle plans while looking up at the impossibly high mountain.
"We should perform a full-frontal strike now!" Shouted the Spartan general Inachus, "While the messenger god is in the winds, the sun god in the sky and the underworld king down in the darkest depths. We should strike before they have more time to regroup and fortify their defences."
The Athenian general Chalcedon scoffed at this. He rolled his eyes and questioned why he was partnered with a man who seemed to be nothing but a scarlet-clad barbarian.
"We should be sending scouts in first," the Blue War general debated, "It is unwise to attack before we have an idea of which Olympians currently reside in the temple. Surely you Spartans cannot be so foolish as to believe even the largest army in history as we have here among us, can survive a surprise assault from Poseidon or even the King God himself."
"That's why we must attack now," the Spartan argued, "We must slay Zeus before his brothers arrive. Once he is dead, then the rest of his kind will quickly and easily follow. Every second we waste debating as we are another member of his kin draws near to fortify his defences."
"Uh, general," an Athenian soldier said pitifully from behind his trench.
Neither of the two leaders heard his plea.
"How do we know that all of Olympus isn't already there? That is why we must first send our scouts," Chalcedon argued.
"General," the Athenian soldier spoke again.
"If they are, then all the better," Inachus declared, slamming his fist into their war table, "We have the arms we need and more than enough men. The faster we begin, the sooner their scourge is wiped off the face of Greece."
The Athenian soldier was now panicking and was considering the ramifications of forcing his way into the middle of the generals' argument.
"My liege!" A Spartan warrior said aloud, standing at attention and grabbing the two men's watch.
The Athenian breathed a sigh of relief that he did not have to speak up.
"What is it?" Inachus replied, turning to face his brother-in-arms.
"Look, on the horizon," the warrior said, pointing his spear toward the battlefield.
All eyes turned toward where the Spartan was pointing.
In the distance stood four small figures.
"Well, Athenian," the Spartan general growled, placing his bronze helmet on his head, "It appears that it is too late to send a scout. The battle has begun."
Without a word being spoken, the ocean of men of both armies raised their weapons, preparing for the upcoming battle.
The four figures continued to approach the unfathomably large force in front of them.
A golden-haired archer dressed in gold silk fiddled with the arrows in one of his three quivers as if preparing to fire at any moment.
"At ease Apollo," said the only woman of the four, "I plan to end this before anyone feels the need to ever draw a blade, raise a shield or launch an arrow."
"You're far too soft on the mortals," said a man the size of a bear, clad in thick, heavy black armour and a beard so red it could have been mistaken for fire on some sun-filled days, "Your idea of education is with words rather than steel."
"Ah yes, how foolish it would be to provide wisdom to mortals," said the muscle-bound man with an apparent backhanded spin, dressed in copper and silver armour with images of his twelve labours moulded into the metal, a golden lion pelt flowing down his back.
"Insubordination such as this is only befitting of one such punishment. Remarks like that make me question your intentions, Heracles. Are you mortal or god?"
"I knew bringing you along would be an error, Ares," the woman of the group said, "You're only here because our father insists upon it. I for one believe it's foolish to bring a god of war to a peace talk."
"Need I remind you, Athena, that we share the same title," Ares, the god of war, sneered.
"That we do, brother," Athena, the goddess of war and wisdom, agreed, clad in a blue silk dress decorated with a bronze armoured girdle. Two arm guards decorated like owl claws and a brilliant bronze battle crown over her olive-skinned face with her brown head of hair tied tightly in the back, "But unlike you, I wield it with actual intelligence."
"Stop fighting you two," Apollo, god of the sun, said in his usual flamboyant manner, "We must focus on the hurdle before us."
"Oh, look at that," Ares mocked, "Apollo decided to speak rather than sing. This must be serious."
"Please just shut up," Heracles, god of strength, grunted, "Your constant talking is giving me a headache."
"Gods don't get headaches," Ares stated, "But you would know that if you were a genuine god and not a bastard son with a taste of golden ambrosia playing dress-up."
"Silence, both of you," Athena snapped, narrowing her colourless gray eyes. "Now is not the time for your bickering."
"Why are you all so concerned about these mortals," Ares said, "They would be lucky to tickle us."
"Silence Ares," Athena snapped as they took their final steps toward the generals of the two armies.
"You insult us with your presence," the Spartan general sneered.
"Insult you!" Ares shouted, "Know your place, Spartan. You are in the presence of the go-"
"Ares!" Athena interrupted, silencing her brother mid-sentence with a wave of her finger. She then turned back to the generals, "I'm sorry about my brothers... interruption. Why are you insulted?"
"The fact that Zeus didn't have the stones to face us in person," Inachus spat, "Instead, he sends his bastard half-god son, a hunter who looks at us as if we were no more than a deer he intends to kill."
"Not to mention you two," Chalcedon injected, referring to the god and goddess of war in his sight.
"I'm sorry?" Athena asked, utterly confused with the mortals.
"You two demand we worship you," the Athenian general continued, "Offer gifts and sacrifices to you, build statues in your honour, and in return 'patron gods' You two have offered us nothing but empty words, our people, your people, have been suffering, dying of plagues and wars and storms that you caused, we have dedicated our lives to you. We have suffered because of this!"
"I'm sorry to hear that," Athena acknowledged, talking down to the two men as if speaking with a child, "What would it take to rectify this injustice?"
"You don't understand," the Spartan leader said, pulling his sword from his sheath, a sword Athena vaguely recognized but failed to place, "It's about time that man governed themselves. The reign of the gods is over."
Ares failed to hold back a hearty chuckle.
"Is this a joke? He asked, a large cheeky grin on his face, "And how exactly do you plan to topple us, with your little daggers and spears? Face the truth, you mortal's only purpose is to live in the gods' shadow, as little more than puppies nipping at our heels."
The Athenian general grinned, catching the gods off guard. The Spartan reached into the crowd behind him and pulled out a brown bag, the bottom soaked in blood.
"Puppies..." the Spartan mimicked, "Could puppies do this?"
Inachus threw the bag to the ground allowing its contents to roll out and stop at Athena's feet.
The four gods looked down to see the decapitated head of Hephaestus, the smithing god.
Athena felt her stomach churn as she stared into the dead Olympian's eyes.
Her mind frantically raced as she tried to process what this meant.
The gods were immortal. Nothing could kill an immortal but a fellow being of divinity, except for those carrying weapons moulded by the forge of Hephaestus. The same forge that crafted all of the gods' weapons, including the armour on their backs, each equipped with the omega symbol signally their allegiance to Olympus.
Athena then realized where she recognized those blades the soldiers were holding.
They were from the forge, crudely made from their moulds, but no less effective.
These blades were capable of killing a god.
And they were staring down tens of thousands of them.
"Athena," Ares said, speaking softly into his sister's ear, "I think your intelligence misjudged this situation."
"It pains me to say I agree," Athena responded.
"This conversation is over," Inachus announced, holding his shield in front of him and preparing to attack.
"I agree," Ares scowled, extending his arm as a massive black steel sword the size of a wolf suddenly appeared in his hand. "Spartan," he said, staring down his former follower and turning his blade toward him, "You seem to be confident of your ability, you believe you can kill a god, time to test your theory."
"With pleasure," Inachus grinned, raising his god-slaying blade and charging at Ares.
Ares casually flicked his sword-wielding wrist.
The Spartan froze. The soldiers held their breath.
Inachus then fell to the ground,
In two separate pieces,
Cut perfectly down the middle,
"Charge!" The remaining general shouted.
Thousands and thousands of Spartans and Athenians rushed forward, quickly surrounding the gods. Metal clashed against metal as the war began.
As far as the soldiers were concerned, the gods were a force of nature.
Apollo was firing arrows impossibly fast, each projectile magically correcting its course to kill dozens of men which each shot as he teleported around the battlefield in flashes of brilliant light.
Heracles used his mighty strength and club to launch soldiers through the air and to their doom with each swing.
Athena had since summoned her spear named 'The Owl's Talon' and was now fighting back to back with Ares, effortlessly deflecting and countering the army's attacks, taking out nearly one hundred men each within a couple of minutes.
"I missed the feeling of a good old-fashioned brawl!" Ares shouted in pure bloodlust as he removed three heads with one swing of his blade, "Nothing beats this sister, nothing!"
"It certainly scratches a certain primal itch, doesn't it?" Athena agreed, impaling three men with one spear thrust as she summoned the Aegis shield to block an incoming blow.
"Focus your attacks on the God of The Sun," Athena heard Chalcedon order.
Through the mayhem, she was able to catch a glance in Apollo's direction.
He was holding his ground but barely.
His skin had been repeatedly cut, and his gold clothing had begun to stain red with his blood.
And worst of all, his draw speed had begun to slow.
"Apollo!" Athena shouted, "Do you need some assistance?"
"Not at all," Apollo said, sinking two arrows into his opponents directly in front of him, "In fact, I believe I will compose a song on my victory here tonight."
He, of course, didn't notice it before it was too late, but he had just shot the last two arrows he held in his many quivers,
"Shit," he cursed as he readjusted his fighting style, using his bow to bash his opponents in their heads, shattering their skulls.
Apollo was indeed a great hunter, but he was nowhere near as gifted at hand-to-hand combat as some of his other siblings. While he certainly brought down dozens of soldiers, he eventually left himself open, allowing a lucky Spartan warrior to thrust a blade through his chest and puncture his lung, leading him to drown in his own blood as he was stabbed repeatedly by a dozen men to assure his demise.
"Apollo!" Heracles cried, rushing forward in a futile attempt to save the fallen god.
In his panic, he made himself open to attack, allowing an Athenian soldier to run his blade under the arm of the champion and remove it in one quick motion. Heracles screamed in pain as blood poured from his shortened limb.
His pain was quick though, as a large Spartan came up from behind him and sliced at his neck, removing his head from his body.
Upon seeing this, a deep rage fell upon the remaining two gods.
"You bastards," Ares shouted, summoning another blade, determined to wipe every mortal left standing off the battlefield.
Athena, in a panic, quickly thought up what she estimated to be at least a dozen strategies to counter this force, each one seeming more and more hopeless as the war raged on.
In an act of desperation, Athena summoned dozens of swords the size of horses to surround herself and Ares in a cage to buy themselves time to regroup.
"What are you doing?" Ares shouted as the warriors outside beat against the swords to get through.
"We must regroup," Athena explained, "The two of us cannot win this fight!"
"You coward!" He spat, "They must pay for what they did to our brothers. They must all burn in the pits of Tartarus."
"We have severely underestimated our opponents!" She explained.
"I don't care," Ares said, "I am the God of War, and I will not be defeated by a bunch of worthless mort-"
Ares was cut off as his shoulder was forced to the ground behind him.
Athena immediately leapt to his side, raising Aegis above her head to block the two other projectiles that fell from the sky.
"Skata," Ares swore as he inspected the wound in his shoulder, "They made arrows too."
"We need to get out of here," Athena thought aloud.
"No," Ares groaned, struggling to stand, "I can still fight."
"Father!" Athena shouted toward the sky as she held Ares down, "Please, help us!"
There was no response.
"Father!" She pleaded toward the heavens, shouting loud enough to be heard by every man on that field despite the clatter of swords and wind, "Son of Kronos, King of Kings, I beg for your help."
The sky almost immediately began to quake, filling with dark, ominous clouds as thunder shook the air.
A bolt of lightning struck down on the battlefield, blowing away the cage of swords and all of the men who were anywhere close to them. The remaining soldiers near the cage stood up to inspect the aftermath. As the smoke cleared, they found that the two gods of war had disappeared into thin air.