Ashes of Love and War - TodoMomo

||Chapter 1 ~ Part 4||

"Kirishima," Shouto said in greeting.

"Thought you were at the front?" Kirishima said, pausing to cock his head and look closer at the woman he was carrying. "You looking for Prince Bakugou again?" he asked, glancing at Shouto.

Shouto nodded.

Kirishima smiled, filed pointy teeth sticking out of his mouth. "He's over there," he said, pointing over his shoulder. "But be careful, he's been in a bad mood since earlier. He didn't find anyone worth fighting. He was hoping to bring down some great warrior, but all we've found in this section of the city were women and children." He sighed dramatically.

It was as Kirishima had said -- Shouto found Katsuki Bakugou sitting in the back of an empty wagon watching the Spartan soldiers pile the other carts full of treasure. His red eyes narrowed on Shouto as he approached. "Fuck, half and half! Are you going to bring me every woman and small child in this city?"

Shouto laid the woman down next to him. She whimpered slightly and then fell quiet.

Bakugou huffed. "I don't need any more slaves," he threw the woman a quick glance before looking back across the street at his men loading the wagons. "You take her."

"I have no use for slaves."

Bakugou swiveled around to glare at Shouto. "Fuck you! And you think I need another one! It's difficult enough to find enough food for all my men." Bakugou growled low, in the back of his throat. "Besides, what the fuck did you do to round face's hair? She looks like a boy now."

"She cut it off herself. A Theban soldier had captured her, and she cut it to get away."

Bakugou's eyes widened slightly and he looked back down at the woman. Something indecipherable flickered behind his red eyes. He flipped a coin between his fingers before returning his gaze to Shouto. "Tsk. Fine. Leave her here, but this is the fucking last one," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"Fine."

"Now get out of here. Your fucking face is pissing me off. You look like one of the dead."

"You're always pissed off," Shouto retorted, turning on his heels.

Shouto walked back alone towards the inner city walls, taking a different route to avoid the slave wagons and burning corpses. A soft light was beginning to appear in the east, signaling daybreak.

Shouto rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes. A headache was building in his temples.

Gods, he was tired.

If only he could rest. Really rest. Without worrying about the war and the nightmares.

Shouto ran a hand through his hair. At least it would all be over soon. That he knew for sure.

Then he was going to feast, take a bath and sleep for days. And maybe not in that order.

Pounding footsteps drew Shouto's attention to a group of twenty or so Athenians rushing down the street. Their eyes were bright with excitement.

Shouto's gaze narrowed as he watched them rush by. They were headed towards the city's main temple. He hesitated before curiosity overcame him. He followed after them at a slower pace.

There was shouting in the distance that increased in volume as he got closer. He rounded a corner and came to a halt.

A large limestone temple was on fire. Even as it burned, the structure was impressive. Its large white pillars stood as tall as eight grown men standing on top of one another's shoulders. At the top pediment, gods and heroes had been sculpted into great scenes of battle.

Shouto watched as bright red flames danced off of the roof, and a thick cloud of smoke lifted into the air and breathed out of the temple doors.

The Athenians that he had been following gathered around the front of the burning building. They were eager, like wolves on the trail of a hurt animal.

Shouto stepped on top of a fallen stone statue to see over their bronze helmets.

His eyes widened, and he inhaled sharply.

A Trojan priestess was standing in front of Apollo's temple wielding a spear. Her purple chiton was ripped up to her thighs and soaked with blood; long black hair lay plastered to her face with sweat and soot.

Nevertheless, she was stunning. With full lips and cat-shaped eyes, she had an earthy, natural beauty. If he didn't know better, he'd call her Helen or Cassandra, but both women had already been captured.

Shouto shifted to watch her strike at an Athenian, and he couldn't help but admire her skill. She fought better than most men, handling her spear with grace and speed. He hadn't heard of any women fighters in the Trojan army but, then again, he didn't pay attention to the soldiers' talk.

One of the warriors circling her lunged, and she sidestepped, swinging her spear down to split the man's heel. He went down with a sharp cry.

She pivoted and blocked another warrior's blow. Her breathing was labored; she was getting tired. The soldiers' attacks were increasing in frequency, and the circle around her tightened. She wouldn't last much longer.

A warrior lunged at her blind spot.

Shouto's heartbeat quickened. He wouldn't be fast enough to save her, and she hadn't seen the soldier attack.

Black shadows shot out from the temple's doorway behind her and blocked the soldier's strike. Dissipating into smoky vapors as they parried the blade.

Shouto's eyes widened. He stared in horror. Laying on the ground behind the priestess was a creature with the body of a man but head of a raven. He hadn't noticed the beast earlier as its body was the same black color as the smoke leaking out of the temple.

The priestess spun around and slashed at the soldier's stomach. He sidestepped and danced back to the safety of the crowd.

Shouto exhaled a slow breath and tried to right his thoughts. It was one thing for him to step in and save the priestess but an entirely different matter now that the creature was involved. It was no wonder the soldiers had been excited. Killing a monster akin to the minotaur would gain them fame and glory back home. They would think of the priestess as just part of their prize.

A white, hot pain slammed into Shouto's chest. He jerked and stumbled forward, catching himself before falling.

His lungs burned. It felt as if he had been punched in between the ribs by one of his father's fists.

Shouto's gaze darted down.

A gold-tipped arrow was protruding from the center of his chest. It had sliced perfectly through him without bending his armor.

Shouto's eyes widened. He had fought hundreds of battles over the last ten years and had never once been hurt.

He brought a shaking hand up to touch the arrow tip, but before his fingers could skim the head, the arrow began to glow and then dissolved into brightly colored lights. It was as if the arrow had become a swarm of multicolored fireflies that floated up towards the morning sky and disappeared.

Shouto stared. His breath felt like lead in his throat. He was shaking and simultaneously felt hot and cold as he looked at his chest and touched the area the arrow had protruded from. He brought his hand up to inspect his fingers, but his skin was dry.

It had been a god's arrow. One of Aphrodite's Erotes.

Shouto looked up sharply, expecting to find Kaminari floating in the sky. Instead, his gaze landed on the priestess, still fighting off the Athenian soldiers and the world stopped.

Shouto could hear his own heartbeat thumping in his ears. He could barely breathe. It was like he was drowning in a sea of tar. And he stared in cold fury as the warriors moved in on the priestess.