Even Gods bleed

The Lion's Child

Our story starts in Ancient Greece, in a city called Sparta. Here, a son is born, a child that did not cry, or struggle. The child was a calm as the sea, with stormy grey eyes. As manditory for childbirth, the boy had to have no physical imparities, or it would be killed. The mother waited in terror as the doctor studied the baby for physical deformities. He handed the small child back to it's mother. "The child is fine. I will send word for his father." The mother, dispite the immense pain, was overjoyed for her son."My sweet Damascus."She cooed softly as she cradled the baby, as her husband trumped in the doorway."Seith, my love, I must take the child home."The large man said as the doctor took the baby and cleaned it, before handing it to the father. Damascus's father carried him home, laying him in a crib. The baby had fallen asleep soundly, before Seith came home."Leon, tohis he asleep?"She asked softly, falling into her husbands arms. He held her with love and might."Yes he is." "Good."She replied, dozing off quickly. Leon laid his wife to bed, and joined her in sleep.
                 Years passed for the family, and Damascus grew to be a strong and resourceful boy, under the "tough love" of his mother. He was still young, nearly 7 years old, but was already a brave , yet caring, boy. His father was often off at war with Egypt and Persia, so Damascus was left to live with his kind, and soft spoken mother."Damascus! It is time to eat!"She called to the boy. "Coming Mother!"He called back, hurrying inside the cottage. She served him bread and a fish stew, a special recipe passed down in her family"Eat hearty, my boy, and you'll be as big as your father." She chuckled and ruffled his straight brown hair."One month until they take me to training, Mother."He smiled back."I know, and you'll be the worlds greatest warrior, I'm sure. But be ready, a true spartan must show no pain, no fear, and no regret."She replied, then added."Be sure to come back and see me."He then promised."I will mother."He stood up, taking his bowl to the washbin, and set off outside, hugging his mother before leaving the house to play with the other children in the streets. As they were playing, fighting with their wooden swords and shields, a Persian ammbasador strolled by, on his way to the palace, leading a slave girl in tow. Damascus saw the girl, only a few years older than himself, and decided he would speak to her. Carrying half a peice of bread, he walked over."Hello ma'am."He said respectfully."Would you like some food?"The girl shyly nodded and took the bread, wolfing it down with suprising speed."T-thank you."She replied, recoiling in suprise as Damascus was kicked by Persian."Filthy mongrel, back to your home!"He spat as he tugged on the girl's chain, walking off, and the girl cried in pity at the young boy, who stood up from the ground, multiple scratches across the left side of his bloody face. Damascus looked at the terrible Persian with great fury, putting his hand over the left side of his face to stop the bleeding. He walked to his mother, looking up at her, blood dripping down his face."Mother!"He called as she came in, looking terrifyied as she sat him down and pulled his hand away."What in the world did you do?!"She asked, running off amd grabbing a wet cloth to wash his face off."I....fell."He replied, lying."Silly boy."She chuckled, wiping all the blood from his massive scratches."These will scar."He replies."Oh well, could be worse." "Much worse."His mother exclaimed, slapping his head."I'm tired, mother." He said, and went off to his bed. Seith sighed, throwing the cloth in the washbin. Her son would be taken off in nearly a week, and her husband would not be here to see it. She crawled up in her bed, and dreamt the night away. Weeks passed, and it was tine for Damascus to begin the agoge, a vigorous, militaristic, spartan training, to mold him into warrior." Goodbye mother."He said, hugging her. She held him close."Goodbye, come back with your sheild, or on it."She commanded. He nodded."Yes ma'am."He followed the city guards to the training grounds, waving goodbye to his caring and loving mother.
             Training was brutal. Plain, simple, and bloody. Every day when the sun rose they were to have twenty lashes on their backs, using a bamboo pole. Damascus hated this. While all the other students winced and cried out, he simply grited his teeth, and waited to hear the number twenty. One day, they stopped early. There was yelling throughout the camp as a girl ran away from the guards. Damascus noticed she was dressed like him, but with cloth wrapped around her chest. She ran and ran, but was caught by the hair, when one of the guards caught up. She was dragged to the courtyard, tied up and tossed on the ground. This was an exicution."You there, stormy eyes. Come kill this wench."The tall man pointed to Damascus, and he was forced to rise. He walked over to the exicutioner, and took the gladuis from him, holding it over her chest."You can't kill me, any of you."She growled, turning over and spitting at the exicutioner."You bitch!"He yelled, brandishing his ax. He lifted it over his head to swing, but looked down in suprise to find his gladuis, buried in his chest. Damascus pushed him over, sending the ax blade through his spine."We are all descended from Hercules, why not her to? She showed no fear, and no remorse, she is more spartan than any of us other students!"He yelled, drawing his knife to cut her bonds. The leaders of the camp agreed,  and the entire camp howled in agreement."AHOO! AHOO! AHOO!" He cut his hand, drawing blood, and she cut hers, using a stone on the ground. They shook hands, creating an unbreakable bond between them."I an Damascus, son of Leon." She replied."Lyssa, daughter to no one."She smirked a wiry smile, and brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes."We have decided, that the brat will bunk with you, son of Leon."The guards said. Damascus nodded, happy to help his newfound friend, the first Spartan woman to be a soldier.
As they grew, Damascus and Lyssa passed every test thrown at them, every fight, every possible situation, then they were ready to graduate as Spartan soldiers. Lyssa was the top of the class, and Damascus was second. At twenty-one Damascus and Lyssa were trained soldiers. Sheild-brothers in the phalanx. Sparring partners, and best friends. Now they were called to duty. They'd been in minor battles before, but this battle had the entire Spartan army. Lyssa was restless, and excited. However Dammascus kept his steely spartan resolve, the yin to her yang. Whereas he was cautious and calculating, always planning ahead, she was reckless, and fiery, relishing in every moment. This was why they were so effective."Come on! Lets kill some egyptian bitches."She paced, and picked up her shield, sheathing her gladius and holding her spear."Calm yourself, Lyssa."He said, looking outside of their tent."This was my old childhood district, I think they evacuated ever-"He was interrupted by a harrowing shout."Spartans! To your position."Lyssa hurried out, and Damascus followed, carryibg his spear and shield."Phalanx up!"The commander yelled, as countless soldiers swarmed the gates, filling the air with the smell of rotten flesh."What the hell!?"A spartan behind Lyssa said, as he turned to run, only stopped by the man behind  him."Stand ready!" Their shields went up, protecing each other, spears out to impale the enemy. Damascus stood like a stone wall, as Lyssa howled in delight as the bodies rushed towards her phalanx. The men neared, and it slowly became apparent that these were no men. They were decayed and bloody, dressed in tattered greek clothes."Hold steady men!!"The bodies bounced off of the wall of shields, as spears of the spartans behind the shield-siblings were stabbed into the skulls of the demons. The spartans shoved the bodies off of their shields."The filthy sand-dwellers have summoned the demons of Hades to fight for them!! Push the abominations back!"The general called out. They pushed foreward, as a standing jackel appeared in the middle of his army, sitting on a throne of gold."My name is not Hades, mortal! I am Anubis!"He bellowed, the miles of dead soldiers screeching."Spartans!! Show this beast your power!"Damascus yells."Ahooo!! Ahoo! Ahoo!"The army erupts, the sheild-siblings drawing their gladiuses, and slash, decapitating dead soldiers in front of them. They continued to stab, cut and slice, few spartans falling the disorganized monstrosities. Lyssa began to beat the demons down with her shield, causing them to turn and run. The spartans pursued, slaughtering every monster, until none were left."Ho-rah! We protected the city, and my mother."Damascus said to Lyssa as she stood, covered in blood that was not her own."Ho-rah!"She responded, walking back to their tent. The spartans slept soundly, unaware of the danger their world was in.