Chills, that was probably the best word to describe the sensation running down my spine. They were chills, but not quite. A small tingling of dread and fear, like I've missed something important. Like I've overlooked a detail that would make me regret everything that we've worked for, like an ominous switch that would turn everything upside down.

I cling to it as we move, sending a quick side glance up at Ares. If there was one thing that I've learned from him, it was to always trust yourself. I look up at him, before clearing my throat quickly. The god of war pauses, before regarding me with interest. "Yes?" 

"Why are we here?" I say, a little too quickly. Out of ear-shot of the people, I finally have the guts to speak up. Actually, scratch that—we were in the middle of absolutely nowhere. There's dirt beneath my shoes, dry, dry dirt and large sediment structures all around us. The sun was beaming down on us, as if Apollo was holding a very deep grudge against us. "Are we even on the same... continent as Sparta?"

Ares laughs, before gesturing toward an especially tall cave in front of us. A shiver goes through me, the intensity of the nothingness suddenly spurring a brief feeling of fear in me. I could barely see into it, the gaping abyss housing secrets that I didn't want to draw too close to. I swallow hard. "You said you wanted to see him."

"Who was it again?" I try to comb through all of my ridiculous requests, wondering which foul moment was the on that landed me here. My shoe sinks into the hot sand and I feel a bead of sweat drip down my back. Did I really ask for this?

The shade of the cave brings upon a feeling of dampness against my skin and I revel in it. I try not to think about it, what might be lurking in the darkness ahead of me. "The first creatures to use teleportation were ones that had caves all around the world." I gaze up, having to crane my neck all the way to get a glimpse of the ceiling. It was as tall as some skyscrapers, yet didn't disappear into the clouds.

It was a massive hole above ground.

"What's in—" There's a sound of... metal, clinking together and something heavier and much larger dragging against the ground. The ground rumbles as whatever is in the cave approaches and it finally hits me right as it's jaws peek out from the darkness.

Dragon.

Just its jaw is the size of a school bus and it towers above us for a brief moment. I can barely catch my jaw from falling open and I merely stare with eyes as wide as moons. I see its nostrils flare, before descending down to inspect us. I don't move, completely paralyzed by the giant of a creature. I've only seen them in pictures and news stories, holy— It's green eye comes down low enough for me to gulp, feeling like shrinking into the ground. It's pupil, a steadfast strike of a line was surrounded by a halo of forest and oak shades, infinitely beautiful.

The creature drops its head onto the ground, laying down with a earth-shaking thud. I see a pink tongue dark out of its mouth for a quick second, just as a heavy breath chased it. I stumble, grabbing onto Ares's arm.

"Holy shit." I whispered. It was beautiful. With pale, beige scales that spread like armor plates up and down it's exposed neck, horns flayed backward. It was the color of the Earth, paler in a way, yet, even as I stood there, I could tell it must've witnessed the forging of these sands. It felt older than time itself and I can barely hide the shake in my hands. Forest-green eyes remain still as Ares reaches for my hand.

"He guards the hidden grove a few miles down. I fed him a few days ago so he should be obedient." A few...

Wait, he's talked about feeding before. That day, when I cut him off—he wasn't talking about a dog, he was talking about...

Ares presses my palm against its cheek scale and I choke on my breath. Nauseating, spinning, light-headed, all of which disappear as abruptly as they came when the god beside me pulls me away. I gaze at him alarmed as his lips curve into a smile. "We learned from the dragons how to teleport. And you will too, doll." I glance at him, before turning back toward the dragon, heart skipping a beat.

Ares was close, way too close. I could feel his body heat spreading to mine and I can't help the blush spreading up my neck. "S-Sure." My voice is shaky, but Ares doesn't point it out. "How should I start?" 

"Think of where you want to go, like that rock over there," I turn to look at the stone a few feet away. "Imagine that you're already standing there and think about the dizziness. Imagine it's already happening." I close my eyes, breathing out. Think about it. Okay, yeah, sure.

Spinning, dizziness, imagine. Got it, it can't be that hard right?

Nothing happens. Ares shifts beside me. Two more seconds past. I grit my teeth, imagining profusely. Nothing. I open one of my eyes. "It's not possible." Ares watches me with an aloof grin, almost as if he were amused at my efforts.

"It is possible."

"I'm human. I can't do... that. I don't have any magical powers besides my electricity." Ares tips his head to the side, pondering my words. Or maybe he was wondering whether or not to ditch me altogether.

He raises his hand to the dragon's scales, before snapping a small chip of the armor off. It gleams in the light, texture unlike any substance I've ever seen. "That's fine. It took me a week to learn how. Keep this in your shoe and no one can take you anywhere without your consent." A week?! And he just... expected me to know how to teleport in less than a minute? 

Did he expect me to be some sort of genius?

I take it with a huff, running my finger over the eggshell like surface. "Thanks." I crouch down and slip it right beneath my heel, the smooth surface barely noticeable as I stand up straight. I walk around for a few steps and back, the weight barely noticeable.

The dragon heaves itself to its feet--to which I flinch when it moves--before retreating into the shadows. "Sweetheart," I gaze at the speaker, who holds his hand out to me. For some reason, he's stepped out into the light. And he looks... angelic. The sun behind his wisps of hair, illuminating them into a gold that make me want to close my eyes. The shadows on his face are perfect, beyond perfect actually. And his silver irises, glinting in the light. 

Gleaming, shining with some sort of allure that makes me nervous. 

He speaks. "Don't miss me too much, okay?" I pause for a moment, tipping my head.

"What?" I mumble, but the wind masks the words from my lips and he tilts his head toward his hand. I'll ask him later. I put my fingers in his and without pitiful resistance, I'm spinning and lightheaded and nauseous.

Because I've forgotten that gods can also manipulate wind and steal fragile words from lips of cursed girls.

- - -

"You were wrong." Poseidon towers over me, eyes ever-changing like the tides of the ocean, threatening to swallow me whole in an instant. I freeze, but my heartbeat picks up. I can feel everything on my skin, grime, water, pebbles stuck into my elbows--My eyes flash from side to side, clinging to the walls of the broken cell.

The cell in the sea, where I was trapped.

"You fell for every illusion I gave you," Poseidon plucks a trident from the very air and holds it above my chest like I've seen Ares do. I don't have the heart to move, to scream, to get up. I'm pinned to the floor, wrists tied with rusted metal and tar. I call for the electricity, for the tingling that I've grown familiar with, but the only thing I can feel is hot, hot fear. "The silly human girl shall die a silly human death. Don't you get it?"

My breaths come in ragged pants as I stare up at him in wide eyes. No no no no no no no—"You are mortal, girl, you cannot hope for longer than what you're given. And it seems as if you've overestimated my mercy." He raises his arms. "You've outstayed your welcome amongst the gods."

The trident plunges down and—I wake up.

I'm sweating, panting, my breaths coming out in choking gasps that are loud and heavy and so very helpless. I gaze down at the electricity burning at the blankets, before swallowing thickly. How can I fight nightmares that vanish the second I try to understand them? There are tears in my eyes, but they don't do anything but blur my vision. My fingers feel like they're encased in ice and my chest burns with an intensity that I've never felt so strongly before.

Rage.

I raise my eyes, hollowing my breaths. I can barely breathe, but I know one thing is clear.

I didn't deserve any of this. 

- - -

"The little prophecy girl seems tired." Deimos comments, just as I flip the deck of cards in my hand from one hand to the other. Tired was an understatement. I stare up at his milky eyes and I realize that I've never seen his teeth up close yet. Sharpened to cruel points, I wonder into who's flesh they've sunk into.

"Where's Phobus?" I inquire, cutting the deck as the god takes the seat that the other usually does. He interlocks his fingers, yawning as I deal them out.

"Am I sensing favoritism? Do you prefer him over me?" I hum in response to his voice, not giving him a definite answer, tightening my grip on the diminishing cards in my hands. "The sir had some business to take care of and Phobus went to accompany him. They've been planning for the big event."

"Big event?" I reach forward and pick up my hand of cards. He does as well, adjusting them from one side to another with an edged smirk. I don't move my cards. Games against gods won't allow me any hints or slip ups. Deimos raises an eyebrow at me.

"He hasn't told you?" The god comments for a brief moment. I swallow. Another part that I've been kept out of. "He's been planning out everything his followers are to do for the next hundred years. Mapping out every action and reaction, he's been administering it all. He already set forth the declaration of war, but the First Week will definitely set things into motion." I glance up, furrowing my eyebrows as I place a card onto the table.

So many rules and legacies go forgotten in my history class, but this is something I've never heard of.

"First Week?" I echo. Deimos places down another card, to which I stare at mine for a solid 2 seconds.

"A week in prison." He slides forward in his seat, leaning on the balls of his feet now. "It's no ordinary prison, it's a prison for gods that hope to disrupt the balance of Olympus." I narrow my eyes at him. "The walls are made of Titan's blood. Every declarer of war must go in there with their acceptor, meaning, Zeus and Ares. They'll be at opposite ends of the prison and it's hellish. I've been in there once, for less than five minutes." Deimos frowns heavily at the thought. I imagine Ares, the god of war, behind bars. An absurd thought, but a suddenly very real one.

"Does it hurt?" I echo, feeling like I was no longer playing a daft game of poker, instead, before a podium of lights, bearing down at me from above.

"It's heavy. You can feel the weight of the Titans the second you step in and you are stripped of your strength. You are filled with indescribable thirst, excruciating hunger, and your skin feels hot enough to burn your flesh." I draw back with every word that leaves his mouth, bile rising in my throat. "Of course, it'll hurt, prophecy girl. The First Week is used to scare gods away from conflict." I shake my head, the poker game light years away from my mind as I think.

Ares has to enter a prison like that. For a whole week. What if he chooses to back out? Am I really worth all of that pain—will he endure it?

"And by now," Just as the words leave Deimos's mouth, I look towards the door. The hair on my neck stands up as I do. It's pushed open and Phobus steps inside. Alone. Dread fills my stomach, but I already knew. 

I let the cards drift out of my hand and onto the floor, the ace of spades smiling up at me in such a cruel way I can only think of one thing.

Ares doesn't walk through the door. Not for another week of agony, he won't.

Don't miss me too much.

"You should've told me—" I should've said goodbye or see you later or forget about it or something besides the ignorance of having the next day with him guaranteed. I grip the chair cushion with my hand, my knuckles white. They didn't tell me.

"Mia, it was his choice to do so." I stand. Look at Phobus and then at Deimos, before pressing my lips together. Think, Mia, think. Be useful, do something Ares would want me to do.

I look up at the ceiling.

Inhale, exhale.

I'll finish my job. "Bring me to Apollo." I tuck a dagger against my leg, picking up a slip of paper from his desk that was left out. Names of the Olympians were written on them, in a vertical row, and I finally understand why. This was my war, the war caused by a human girl.

Now, I just need to make it a victory--with allies.

Starting with the first god I've ever met. 

- - -

hiiii, im sorry for not updating a lot, but school has been kicking my butt :( 

but more things are developing and i hope you guys like the way the story is going! pls comment, vote, and share, bc it motivates me to work on this story even more:)!