The Beloved of the God of War

9 - Hollow

Each rhythmic pound of his feet against the rocky terrain fell into a strange beat with my thundering heart. I could hear my blood rushing in my ears as he pressed me close to his chest - I was still afraid of the preternatural strength I could feel in the arms that carried me, but the inhuman warmth that he radiated made the tips of my ears feel feverishly hot.

This was insane. How could any of this be happening? Just this morning I had felt so safe, so ordinary while I worked in the communal garden in the township. The sun had risen the same way it did every morning, and the sky had been so blue that it had taken my breath away when I stepped out of the barracks. None of this was supposed to happen, I thought, and I squeezed my eyes shut to ward off the splitting headache that I could feel creeping over me. The harsh, swift descent from nearly cloud-level all the way down to the earth waiting below made me feel sick, but I held my breaths and expelled them evenly, slowly, until I forgot my fear.

Some of it, at least.

After what felt like several more hours, Ares abruptly let me down as gently as he might a sack of potatoes. With no warning beforehand, I nearly stumbled on my feet when I hit the ground - and then stumbled again when it gave way under my feet. Sand? I looked around to see that it was nearing true dusk now, but more significantly, that we were on an immaculate, deserted beach. Even in the last, dim rays of the sun, I could tell that the sand was a pure, nearly pearly white hue, and the waves of the sea lapped against the shore with a rush of rhythmic whispers that I hadn’t noticed until now. 

To the sea, Ares had said. Well, we were here. What now? I stood motionless while I watched Ares continue to move along the shore, and I realized just in time for him to look over his shoulder at me that I ought to be following him. In my haste, I kicked up a handful of sand from under my feet with my first unsteady steps.

Night had fallen by the time Ares finally stopped. Now, I was truly exhausted: it was all I could do to drag my feet over the sand and trail after him. More than once, he stopped and watched me until I caught up, but I sensed nothing more than a slight annoyance from him at my weakness. To be fair, it was something I couldn’t help, after all. Unlike the old gods like him, my abilities did not reside in the realm of superhuman stamina. I was physically as fragile as any mortal in the New World.

“We’re not resting here. You’ll sleep on the ship.”

My head jerked up at the sound of his voice. After hours of silence and in the lullaby peace of the waves caressing the shore, his voice jarred me out of my numb complacence. “Okay,” I said quietly when I almost immediately saw he was waiting for my response. This time, he didn’t need to intimidate me to get me to answer; I noticed bitterly that he was already training me well.

I wished I weren’t so afraid. I wished I didn’t have to be so afraid. I shoved my cold hands into the pockets of my hoodie and ducked my head again.

“Stay here,” he said. “If you try to run, you won’t get far.”

I could feel his red eyes boring into me even if I didn’t look up. I nodded obediently, and he turned and left. When I sneaked another glance at his retreating form, it was just in time for him to disappear into the mouth of a large beach cave just thirty feet away, where some of the seawater flowed into.

I had only waited for a few minutes when I saw something begin to emerge from it. I squinted to try to make out the shape better but didn’t dare to move from my current position in case Ares took issue with it. What was that? 

And then I realized it was the boat - it was a slim, medium sized boat, meant probably for no more than two or three passengers at most. I supposed that fit the bill, since it was only Ares and I about to embark on this inexplicable journey. But with only two slim sails and a single mast, I had to wonder if this boat would be able to survive the open waters at all. I had already looked out at the sea while Ares was gone; I had no idea where we were in the world, but I knew enough that the expanse of the ocean was all that awaited us out there, not a tame lake or river. My heart sank when I saw Ares’s shape emerge from the cave now; he was bent slightly and pushing the boat along the inlet from behind. He really did mean for us to take that vessel.

I was no sailor, so I had to hope that among the numerous mysteries that surrounded Ares, he also hid a secret sailing expertise. But as a war god, I didn’t know how likely that was…

“Get in.”

I jumped, surprised by how clearly I could hear his deep voice from here, but I knew better than to make him wait any longer. I hastily moved until I reached the point of the shore parallel to where he had pushed the ship out until the water came up past his waist. There, I hesitated.

Ares kept one hand on the stern of the small ship and turned around to look at me. “What are you doing?” he asked flatly. “I said, get in.”

I didn’t give myself a chance to cower at the hard cut of his tone. Instead, I quickly toed my sneakers off, and then bent down to roll the legs of my dark blue sweatpants up to my knees. Leery of making him any more impatient, I hurriedly swiped up my discarded shoes in one hand, and then under the god’s watchful stare, I stepped into the water.

The sudden cold wash against my calves stole my breath away in an audible gasp, and Ares’s eyes narrowed at me when I swayed on my feet. He almost seemed like he was going to take a step forward toward me, but I must have imagined it. Or maybe he was simply shifting his position, but either way, I didn’t want to tempt fate or his patience. I took another step forward, splashing water and clenching my jaw at the icy rush that lapped against me.

“Stop.”

I froze when Ares suddenly began walking toward me. I noticed now that he held the end of a rope tied to the boat’s stern in his hand, and though the small ship bobbed on the waves without his steadying grip, it couldn’t float away from him.

He drew up close to me, and then he dropped into a crouch - like before, when he had picked me up to carry me in his arms down the mountain. Sure enough, I found myself saddled in his arms like a small, helpless doll once again, and I didn’t have the chance nor the presence of mind to protest any of it. By the time I began to struggle out of his arms, he had already trudged back to the boat against the waves. He deposited me with a thump over the edge, and I sat stunned on the wooden bottom of the vessel. My shoes thunked down next to me, having slid out of my numb grasp.

Next, Ares followed suit, pulling himself over the side of the boat with a flex of his muscular arms. The boat rocked from his weight before settling again when he landed inside, but it was still large enough that it didn’t capsize, thankfully. Even so, the interior could scarcely be longer than twelve feet. I didn’t see how such a slim-looking ship could possibly brave the open waters. What if it stormed? And what about all the creatures that might live in the waters now? Ever since the Old World had begun merging with the New, it wasn’t so uncommon to hear about nonhuman creatures, both benign and malevolent, wandering here and there. Couldn’t that be true for the sea, too?

And then there was the quiet, illogical fear of being circled by sharks in my head. But could anyone blame me? I was a new god only in name; I still grew up as a mortal, and with mortal fears.

Suddenly, with a muted glimmer of golden light that flared over his body in a downward wave, Ares’s godly Aspect vanished. His armor was gone, leaving him dressed in - what? I blinked several times, unsure if I was really seeing what I thought I saw. But indeed, he was wearing a pair of modern-style sweatpants as well, similar to mine except that his seemed a shade of dark gray, nearly black.

The old gods wore modern clothes? I’d never heard of such a thing. And when I had seen Hermes and Artemis in person those three years ago, as well as Zeus just this morning on the Mount, they had all been wearing the archaic style of the Ancient Greeks.

I noticed a strange shape in his hands, then, and I found my eyes focusing on it in the darkness. It looked like... oh, I thought. It was the empty, curling horn that I had seen him carry earlier off the mountain. I had forgotten about it until now, but he must have hung it over his back or on his belt without my noticing. I wondered what it was for, but it wasn’t as if I dared to ask.

The next thing I noticed was that besides his sweatpants - which were drenched - was that he wore no shirt at all. My eyes widened at his sculpted, muscular form. I couldn’t see well in the scant light that now remained whether he bore any scars or not, but either way, there was no other word to call his physique: flawless.

Was that what it was like to be an old god? Besides being beautiful in face, they must all bear such inhumanly beautiful bodies. I turned away quickly, my face growing hot.

“Move over,” he ordered, and I hastened to obey by crawling over to make space. Scarcely before I had done so, I heard him settle down himself, wet pants and all. I settled back down and watched as he placed the large, empty horn on the bottom of the ship between us.

Except it wasn’t empty. I gaped at what I saw spilling out its hollowness now.

“You’re a god, so this won’t kill you,”  said Ares, and he gave the horn a nod to ensure I knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Now eat.”