Ares sat disinterested as the high priest of his Spartan temple went through an inventory of the day's offerings. The aged man, a warrior past his prime who had decided to spend his geriatric years the way he had wasted his youth, in the service of the God of War, laid out an exquisitely bejeweled dagger before his lord.

"What of this, Lord Ares?"

"Yes, yes, put it with the others," Ares dismissed the servant and stood from his throne. He paced the temple, growing more bored with each step. He needed something. No, not something. He needed a new warrior. A new project. But he found most warriors lacking. Gods how he missed Leonidas, Achilles, and Hector. Would there ever be another Alexander? Oh, he lamented just how civilized Greece was becoming! Look at the Athenians for crying out loud!

"Democracy!" He bellowed, his laughter booming off the stone walls of the temple.

The outburst had caught the old priest unaware, it startled him, causing him to drop the dagger. An emerald popped free of its housing. Ares didn't even notice as the priest worked clumsily to repair it.

What was the world coming to? Where was the torment? Where was the anger? Where was the bloodlust? Even the few warlords that he was grooming lacked the right fire. They were only in the business of war for petty reasons. The wanted money, they enjoyed the rape and pillage that went along with the territory. Where had all the masterminds gone? Oh, there was Caesar, of course, but that miserable bastard was so egotistical that the thought of training him, tutoring him, grooming him into perfection, frankly, turned Ares' stomach. Pompey was equally nauseating. And Crassus, well Crassus was doomed to fail. He didn't know what he was up against with the other two. Besides, in his heart of hearts, Ares preferred the Greeks to the Romans. He wanted to find a Greek warrior who would put the Romans to shame.

Aphrodite appeared in his temple, offering a respite from his sulking. "Sis, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Just giving you a heads up, Bro." She twirled a lock of her blonde hair.

"About?" Her flirtation he could handle. The vagueness he could do without.

"Corinth, of course. Poseidon is pissed. He is their patron god after all. You should've known better." She chided.

"What in the name of Kronos are you talking about?"

"The siege of Corinth?"

"What siege?"

"Wow, you mean she's not one of yours? Really? Looks a lot like your handiwork if you ask me. The body count is ridiculous."

Ares' interest was piqued. So a warrior had laid waste to Corinth so badly that the gods thought he was responsible. But a woman? Not worth his time. "I have no interest in Corinth."

"Well, you better let Dad know that it's not your doing because Old Drippy Beard has his fins in a bunch."

"Thanks, Sis."

"No problem. Toodles. My massage awaits."

Ares rolled his eyes. Didn't she ever get tired of being oiled up by muscle-bound, slick-chested, young men?

He watched as Aphrodite's pink light show evaporated. Maybe he should take a peek at what was going on in Corinth, just for shits and giggles. He walked over to his throne plopped down and took a swig of nectar. Extending one hand, he opened a portal and was instantly impressed with the littered bodies that filled the scene. She'd even taken down centaurs. Corinth was reeling but as far as Ares could tell, the city lay still unclaimed by the warrioress. He shifted the portal until he found her encampment. Wow, what an army! Had she built that by herself? Had she inspired that many men to follow her? Interesting.

Ares closed the portal and transported himself to her camp. Quickly finding the command tent, he let himself in. The stench was palpable. But it wasn't the odor of death. Similar but not exactly the same. Copper filled the air but it was accompanied by an smell with which he was unfamiliar. When he saw the blood stains and the placenta and afterbirth, he realized what he was smelling. Someone had given birth, and recently. He walked over to the war table, her plans were still laid out. He had to admit it was impressive. It should have worked. What went wrong? Why hadn't she taken the city yet?

"Can I help you?" Xena snarled as she entered the tent.

Ares looked up from the plans. By all the gods of Heaven and Earth, she was a beauty. She'd been crying. Her eyes were red rimmed and her nose was puffy and equally crimson. He studied her body. It was she who had recently given birth. But where was the baby? Had she exposed it?

"Why have you failed?" He asked matter-of-factly.

"My affairs aren't any of your business." Xena pulled her sword. She was in the mood for killing.

She'd just watch Borias die and had given up her son. A kill would make things better, right the world.

"You won't be needing that. I take it you're Xena."

Xena twirled her sword as she approached him, signalling that he'd better grab or blade or die a quick and painful death.

"But where is this second army from your battle maps? The army of Borias?"

"Borias betrayed me!" Xena arced her blade toward him. Suddenly, the sword went flying from her hands and into his. In one swift move, he grabbed her, turned her, and held her captive with her own blade to her throat, her back against his front.

"Who are you? How did you do that?"

"I am Ares, God of War and if you play your cards right. I could be a generous ally."

Xena was impressed but she was not about to let him know that. So, she'd finally drawn the attention of the infamous God of War. The god her father had fought for.

"I don't need you as an ally. I am Xena, the Destroyer of Nations. I'll make my own fate."

Ares looked at her in awe. She was losing the Battle of Corinth, she'd just been betrayed by an ally, she'd just given birth and disposed of the child, and yet she stood before him unwaveringly proclaiming herself the Destroyer of Nations. Yes, this was what he'd been looking for. Finally, a new project!