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The sun slowly lifted over the horizon as they packed up camp and got ready to move out, to complete the mission that had been assigned to them. There was little to do as they were travelling light, not wanting to be spotted. The ground began to rumble beneath them and he tried to run, tried to move, but he couldn’t, he could only stare in panic as the rest of his squad lifted off, wings beating quickly, urging him to move, to not stay where he was. But the moment he regained control of his limbs, the ground cracked beneath him and he began to fall. His hands scrabbled for purchase in the soft dirt at the edge of the opening. He found a more solid part and hung on with one hand.
His squad mates hovered above him, above the chasm that had opened beneath their camp. “Go,” he called, ‘save yourselves. If you try and help me you’ll also die. Then who’ll show those bastards?”
“We won’t let you die. We won’t let you fall.” Atlas swooped beside him, “Grab on, I can pull you up.”
“No, you can’t,” Ares looked at his commanding officer sadly, “This is the way it was going to be, this is the way it will be. The only difference is if it’s me or more of us. I’m the only one who has to die here.”
“Grab my hand Ares, that's an order,” Atlas said, holding his hand out.
“I can’t old friend, I wish my last action weren’t one of disobeying orders but it looks like it’ll have to be unless you give me a different one.”
“Fine, come back, I order you, as my final order to you return to us. Whatever form that may be in return to us,” and Atlas lifted back up, up towards the rest of his squad.
Ares smiled, looking up at the friends who refused to abandon him, and with the last of his strength he raised his spare arm in a clumsy salute. His fingertips lost their grip on the ledge and he fell.
The last thing he heard as he fell was his squad mates singing. A strange ethereal sound, the song for the dead. The last time he’d heard it he was the one singing it. Singing it in the nights between torture, between the hazes of pain, singing his heart out for the people he loved, his whole world. Mourning the loss of everything, vowing his revenge on the people who would dare do such a thing to so many innocents.
He missed his wings but regretted nothing, this was the path shown to him and this is the path he would follow, he would trust in his vision, and trust that he would return home. Below him, flames licked upwards almost trying to eat him, maybe fire was the way he’d go, just like his family. Perhaps he’d be reunited with them. Reunited with his lifeblood, his parents and siblings. But he couldn’t die, not yet, couldn’t leave his squad, couldn’t disobey orders, and with that thought a ball of energy expanded outwards, encapsulating him, protecting him from the heat of the fire. His eyes flickered shut and he fell into a deep sleep.
He remembered all those nights alone in that dark place, the days spent training with his squad, on missions, laughing in taverns, dancing in the moonlight – keeping their childhood alive. His life came and went before his eyes, the best and the worst times. The times that had made him into the person he was now, the times that had meant his hands were covered in blood and the times that meant his eyes were alight with the enjoyment of life – the eyes of a killer. He could almost feel his wings wrapped around him, keeping him warm and cool at the same time. The ghost of his tail wrapped around his legs, keeping them together.
Suddenly he was swept up into one memory, almost as vivid as the day it had happened. This memory was the worst, the only one that when he was truly asleep woke him in the night. The memory of the night his life had fallen apart.
The lights flickered outside his door, his parents talking in lowered tones, undoubtedly talking about the force coming towards them, invading their lands. He knew what was happening, he was old enough and his parents rarely kept secrets from him. His younger sibling didn’t really, she was too young to understand, too young to be truly scared. She was tucked up in her bed in the loft. The screaming of the animals pulled him out of his musing. They kept the cows in a barn not too far from the house and they were bellowing, louder than he’d ever heard, something was deadly wrong. Leaning over he nudged Phrixus, “There's something wrong, please wake up, we need to get out.”
“Wha- what's happening?”
“I’m not sure but it can’t be good, go get Calli, I’ll figure out what’s going on,” Ares said as he rushed out of the room, slinging his sword belt around his hips.
Phyrixus rose and followed his before turning up the stairs, “be safe, my life,” he called.
The moment he stepped outside he saw the problem, the barn was engulfed in flames. He ran over to his father, “What should we do, do we just want to get everyone out and away?”
“Yes, your mothers gathering food, we’ll have to hunt until we get to the city but we can manage.”
“Okay, Phyrixus has gone to get Calli, they should be out any minute now, they can go ahead. I’ll stay behind and hold off whoever lit those fires.”
“No you won’t, you have a whole life ahead of you my son, you have a lifeblood who’ll stay with you until the end of time, go with them I urge you. I’m an old man, my time is ending and the best way I can see to use the breath I have left is defending my family.”
“I can’t let you do this alone. If it gets too bad I’ll leave, they can’t fly after all,” he reminded his father and took off towards the barn. The immense heat engulfed him as he approached, and suddenly there was a terrible pain in his wings and he fell towards the flames. Darkness crept in and the scene changed.
A laugh echoed up the stairs. Phyrixus had arrived with his parents, and they were all laughing in the entrance hall. He almost flew down the stairs, wings banging into the walls, feathers falling onto the ground, and tail almost tripping him. Seeing his boyfriend he couldn’t stop himself from launching himself at him, it had been so many months since they’d seen each other. They collided in a mess of limbs, wings covering them, tails entwining, foreheads pressed together, “I missed you so much,” Ares whispered.
“I know, I missed you too,” came the reply.
They stood up untangling themselves but hands and tails didn’t separate. Ares carefully bowed toward Phyrixus’ parents, “It's good to see you too.”
“It’s good to see you again Ares, but why don’t you and Phyrixus catch up for a bit, we need to talk about a few small things with your parents”
He lands heavily, his chest hitting the ground hard, he wonders whether he’s got any broken bones. Raising his head he looks around, he’s on the edge of a crater, blue fire flickering in it. The fire looked similar to some he’d seen on his few missions in the nether. Thinking of missions, his training kicked in, and he stood up and surveyed his surroundings, he appeared to be on an uninhabited island with a path heading off into the distance. Sword drawn he starts down the path, looking to see where he is. The only thought in his head is that he has to get back, he has to follow orders.