Ashes of Love and War - TodoMomo

||Chapter 1 ~ Part 1||

The world was ending.

That's how the Trojans probably felt, at least, as chilling screams echoed throughout the city.

Shouto stood on top of Troy's inner wall, watching as blistering, blue flames licked through the stone streets in the distance, setting houses ablaze and trapping those inside. He could already smell the burning bodies in the night air as a warm gust swirled through the carnage carrying the ashes of war.

It fell around him like black snow — dirty, suffocating. Everywhere.

Shouto opened his hand and caught a piece.

A cold hollowness reverberated through his chest. It was like an eagle's talons: digging into his flesh, puncturing holes in his skin, but instead of blood, his soul was seeping out. He pushed the sensation to the back of his mind.

He needed to sleep. Perhaps when the war was over, he'd finally be able to rest properly.

Shouto clenched his fist shut, smearing the ash in his palm. He turned away from the view, flicking the blood from the tip of his sword, Endeavor, as he stepped over severed limbs and mangled corpses and climbed back down the stone steps to the battle below.

It was like being whisked into a different dimension.

The air vibrated as swords clashed, and the smell of smoldering fire was replaced with the thick stench of blood.

Troy had nothing left but old men and children. And they fought desperately.

An old Trojan warrior spotted him as he stepped down onto the street. Underneath his helmet, the man's beard was speckled gray and lines had begun to carve into the sides of his eyes. The Trojan raised his weapon and launched himself at him.

Shouto's fingers twitched and he tightened them around the red hilt of Endeavor. The strong live, the weak die. He was strong, so he would live, Shouto reminded himself.

He blocked the man's strike.

Metal rung as steel collided. The man lost his balance.

Shouto didn't.

He stepped forward, his sword sliding through armor and flesh. He twisted and pulled the blade out. The man dropped to the ground with a scream, holding his stomach as his entrails poured out.

Shouto stepped over him.

Two more men charged forward.

Shouto didn't think as his right side unleashed his ice magic.

There was a pained shriek as cold spikes jutted up from the ground, impaling the first attacker.

Shouto pivoted and dodged the second man's blow. Spinning, he slammed the base of his sword into the man's skull. A loud crack echoed, and the warrior crumpled to the ground.

Shouto paused. He took a slow, deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He could feel the blood from the dead wet his feet between his sandals.

He looked down at the man he had just killed.

Three golden bangles glistened around his upper arm. Shouto hesitated before bending down and pulling them off.

Rocking back onto his feet, he pushed his red cloak aside to slide the bracelets up his own arm. And turned to watch his fellow Spartans push the remaining Trojans back. Their bronze shields overlapped to create an impenetrable wall as Prince Midoriya had once taught them to do.

He could see the whites of the Trojans' eyes. Their pupils were dilated in fear. They didn't stand a chance and they knew it. They were just stalling the inevitable.

A flicker of white in the black sky danced in his periphery and Shouto looked up.

Hovering above the masses, Kaminari Denki – the Erotes of Lust – paused to watch the fight. His figure shimmered slightly, indicating he was invisible to most mortals.

Shouto's eyes narrowed. He could make out Kaminari's yellow gaze sweeping over the street. The God's normally relaxed face was tense. He was looking for someone.

Shouto's lips thinned as he watched Kaminari turn from the fighting.

'Aphrodite,' Shouto thought.

The gods were interfering again. One of Aphrodite's favorite warriors was in trouble, and she had sent Kaminari to whisk him away to safety.

Anger pulsed under his skin. Shouto rolled his jaw.

Let the gods play their games.

It was over now, not even they could change that.

Screams snapped Shouto's attention away from the God of Lust's retreating figure and back to the fighting.

A Trojan had broken through the Spartan's defense.

A small-framed boy with wide glassy eyes had slid under the soldiers' shields. His body was too skinny, denoting the harsh conditions the war had inflicted on the civilians. Even if he did survive the night, the boy's sunken eyes were evidence that he wouldn't live for much longer. He had gone too long without enough food.

A coldness bled through Shouto's veins. 'The strong live,' he reminded himself.

He stepped forward.

The boy snarled and lunged at him.

He parried the boy's strike, sliding his sword effortlessly across the Trojan's throat in a quick, horizontal motion. A red line appeared, and the boy's head rolled off from his shoulders. Blood spurted into Shouto's face.

He staggered back.

"Todoroki!" someone yelled.