Chapter IV
A curtain of silence suddenly fell on the mountain, weighing against Kratos. Brooding over his future in his own chambers was one thing, but he would not show weakness in front of all Olympus. He felt the piercing stair of a hundred eyes boring into him from all angles, and slowly unfolded his arms. Gulping down the last remnants of wine, he placed the cup on a nearby table and began walking forward through the crowd. He looked into the eyes of nearly every immortal as he passed, they making a hole for him. As he stalked forward, he thought back to Dionysus' words. "Here and now is when & where you make your first and lasting impressions on the gods of Olympus... Making friends here can gain you more power than you could have ever dreamed of..." With these thoughts in mind, he stepped forward more proudly, as a king would when passing through the ranks of his army.
Within moments he stood before Zeus on his platform and turned to look out over the crowd. It was truly a magnificent view. Not of the gods, but of the sky. The sun shone softly, peeking over the swirling white clouds, with the columns of this hall making a frame around the image. The cool wind from the top of the mountain and the heat from the sun moved over his skin evenly while the brisk air rejuvenated him with each breath. If there was one thing, if anything, that Kratos envied the gods for... this was it. This perfect sight. This perfect feeling. And this perfect sense of calm he felt as he looked out over it all.
Zeus's hand on his shoulder brought Kratos back from his fantasy, and returned him to his senses. He looked out over the gathered Olympians plainly, and then to Zeus, who had a fare smile upon his strong face.
"Well, lad? May we count on you?"
Kratos took a quick glance over the crowd once again, staring into the eyes of the gathered Olympians. He remembered how the gods' promise to rid him of the nightmares had been broken, and an anger flared up inside him that even Dionysus' words couldn't extinguish. He held it in his thoughts to refuse Zeus' offer and demand retribution. But as he turned back toward the king of the gods, he caught sight of Athena standing just behind him. She carried the slightest of smiles on her feminine lips, and her eyes held an air of pride about her, while her stare seemed to egg him on without words.
Kratos had never considered himself a politician. He had never wanted to. War on the battlefield was horrible and taxing enough. Indirect war among minds held endless complications. He tried to reason within himself that it would only be a few words. But he knew that words held power within them that could hardly be measured. And he also knew that politics was a slippery slope. One word, one promise, one lie, would lead to another until he spoke nothing but falsehoods. But as he debated within himself, he realized just how long the moment had extended, how crushing the silence felt, and how nervous everyone seemed to be growing. Athena's brows raised in expectancy, and even Zeus' gray eyes seemed calculative as they looked into his. It was time to make his decision.
Tossing aside his internal strife, he looked into Zeus' eyes and braced the god king's extended arm with his own firmly. The powerful limb felt as covered stone beneath his pale hand, and matched the powerful grip with his own. He felt Zeus' power over the lightning emanate through him with massive yet restrained intensity.
"You have my backing, Lord Zeus."
The old king's jaw set into a firm grin before clasping a hand to Kratos' shoulder and tilting his head backward in a hearty laugh reminiscent of an oncoming storm. He heard a small clap begin and swiftly grow to a full applause as Zeus laughed. He switched hands to raise Kratos' arm into the air victoriously, turning them to directly face the crowd.
"To a greater Olympus!"
The applause grew slightly at the king's words and Kratos looked out across the crowd, greeted by a sea of grins, both half and full-hearted, as well as several wine glasses. At the far right of the room Kratos saw Dionysus raise his large glass slightly in toast, eying him over the golden rim. As he looked around the crowd for more familiar, possibly more useful faces, he noticed clapping coming from behind him. He turned to see Athena clapping proudly, her green eyes beaming merrily at him. His worries could wait. For now, it seemed he could do nothing but follow the tide and live in the glory of the moment. And after finally breaking his gaze at Athena, he realized that it was a decision he was content with, for now.
Even as she walked the halls of Olympus hours after the celebration had ended, Athena felt pride lift her every step. Everything had gone splendidly. Her father had openly welcomed Kratos into the pantheon for all to see, and he had accepted!A light smile spread across her lips. Everything was in order, and her vassal had finally received his reward. Although, now that she thought of it, Kratos had been more than a simple vassal. He was... something different, that she couldn't quite discern at the moment. He had faithfully served her... Olympus... for the past ten years, surviving every peril and completing every task effectively. She did not entirely agree with his methods, but could respect his warrior spirit.
As a matter of fact, the only reason she was wandering the halls of Olympus at this time of night was to go see him. She wanted to know how he was adapting to being above the clouds. In her white nightgown, light green shawl for the cold, and sandals, she had set out from her restless bed. And being that her bed stood at opposite ends of the castle from her former brother's, it was a bit of a walk. Though she didn't mind. She had paced these halls many times in the dead of night. It was, admittedly, a form of escape. Since she had been young she had been jealous of her sisters, even as they mocked her. She had been a frail and unremarkable child, while her sisters became beautiful or strong, either way garnering respect and admiration among the mortals as well as their father's love and attention. While Aphrodite was worshiped for her beauty and Artemis for her raw talent, she had been cast aside, ignored. And so, with no talents to speak of and no responsibilities thereof, she did the only thing she could do amidst the great castle. She walked. She explored. She grew to know the halls of Olympus well, each hallway and corner like a familiar friend. That is, until one day she became tired of the familiarity, her mind aching for...
"More."
A gruff, weary voice broke her from her thoughts, followed by the clang of metal upon metal, and the quick pitter-patter of sandals. She looked up, suddenly aware that she had been staring at her feet half-blindly as she walked, to see the source of the sandals exit the room only several yards before her. A young servant girl walked quickly toward her with a serving platter and a large wine pitcher. She bowed low as she approached her, speaking softly before continuing on.
"My lady."
She nodded slightly in return before quickening her own pace toward the room. Who else would be roaming these halls at this hour? Though as she approached the archway, she somehow knew. She turned the corner to see, illuminated only by the moonlight, Kratos. He sat hunched over in one of the marble chairs, and she realized that this was the Grand Viewing Room. The walls of the great circular room had been enchanted to mimic the time of day, creating the illusion that there were no walls at all, and a giant circle had been cut from the ceiling to allow the light in from the natural sky. And at the center of the room, leaving only just enough space to sit and walk around, was a massive pool that served as a portal to the world below. Like the Mystic Waters that sat in her room, and the rooms of most gods, it showed any portion of the mortal world that the viewer wished. This room was used as a council hall when visual aids where necessary.
She entered the room and approached the side of the pool, but Kratos seemed not to notice her. His eyes were focused, intent on the image. His elbows lay on the edge of the pool while his arms tented with his hands before his mouth. He sat to her far left and, being the only god using the pool at the moment, the view was turned to face him. She walked calmly toward him to get a better look, unable to identify the area displayed from her angle. As she approached his chair from behind, she looked into the pool again, now recognizing the area as the kingdom of Sparta. The flowing wheat fields and the strong stone walls gleamed calmly in the bright moonlight. It was beautiful. Serene, even. She approached him to get a better look, stepping beside the throne.
"Is that your home?"
Kratos growled angrily in response.
"That is not your concern... Athena!"
As he looked toward her, the anger in his voice was immediately replaced with regret and surprise. He immediately jumped from his seat as a sign of respect. A man as powerful and indomitable as Kratos had jumped like a frightened rabbit. It made her smile and hold a hand to her mouth to restrain her giggling. Her muted laughter obviously affected him, and he straightened himself quickly.
"I... apologize. I thought you were the serving girl with my wine. Forgive me."
"No harm done."
She could forgive him this once. She hadn't expected him to adjust to Olympus's refinements immediately. In an unfamiliar world, a guarded attitude was the best. She returned her eyes to the image in the pool.
"So this is Sparta, is it?"
She sat on the very edge of the pool for a better look. He cleared his throat and continued.
"Yes. My home. These wheat fields surrounded the walls of the city on all sides. Calliope and Lysandra would play among them often."
"They're beautiful."
"Yes. They were."
She noted the faint sadness in his voice and the hopelessness in his gaze. Regret stung at her. She should not have approached the subject, as it obviously caused him grief. He cleared his throat and continued, a renewed, professional vigor in his voice.
"But they weren't simply placed there for beauty. They were placed there for food, as well as for attacks on the city."
Kratos, seeming eager to change the subject, touched the pool and the image changed to an aerial view of the city, showing the fields completely surrounding it. He pointed as he spoke.
"When an attack on the city was anticipated during a season, we would let the weeds grow high, and use them to conceal forces on the outside of the walls. Alternatively, we would use the catapults along the walls to launch jars of flaming oil into the fields, setting the grass ablaze and burning the enemy as they neared the walls."
Several things struck Athena as Kratos spoke. He was a brilliant tactician, despite his brutal methods. And from the way he spoke, he might have designed some of these battle plans he described. Secondly, although he spoke as a professional, she noticed his focus and his balance wavering. And third, she noted the heavy scent of the wine on his breath, making an effort not to scrunch her nose. He had been drinking quite heavily, but physical evidence of this could only be gleaned by a close inspection. Assuredly, Kratos's many years as a soldier, and a grieving husband, had conditioned him to the consumption.
"Are you well, Athena?"
She blinked. As she came out of her thoughts, she realized that she had been staring at him, while he had continued on. Though now he had stopped, realizing this, and shifted his gaze away from her uncomfortably.
"Oh... yes. Quite well. But what of you? How are you finding Olympus' hospitality?"
"I am... ahem... still finding it. It is..."
He sighed heavily, retaking his seat in the throne before the pool.
"It is difficult. Adjusting to this new life."
"It is an easy life here. No more struggling. We are the gods. There is little we cannot do."
"Yes. But struggling is all I have ever known. Now that I am without direction I feel... lost. I have known very little that I could not have. And even the Spartan would refuse to take me back, after all that I have done. There seems to be no place for me."
She listened to Kratos' lament in silence. It had not dawned on her, the way mortal men lived. She had only truly interacted with them for her own purposes, as the gods did most often. She knew that each being in the universe had a purpose. Some knew their purpose, and strove toward it like a goal; a race. But it now dawned on her that those in constant service to the gods had, in some ways, become as children. They become engaged in something else guiding their life; their actions, their goals. All the while forgetting, or even forsaking, goals of their own. Just as a humble slave of many years will not leave their master lightly, Kratos was not yet ready to go unguided. She spoke again, soothingly.
"Kratos, your place is here now. With us. Your place is to give others places of their own. Every being has a destiny. And as a god, you can help shape, or change, that destiny. Think of all those who have helped or bedeviled you along your journey. They all had a place in your life. A page in your story. Part of their destiny entwined with yours, sometimes because the gods bid it so. Now it is your turn to bid men and events to your will. You are the god of war. It is to you that brave warriors pray for protection, courage, and strength."
Kratos sighed and leaned his head on his right fist somberly. The great viewing pool hazed over and cleared, the image of Sparta disappearing. She stood up and walked to the other side of the throne, attempting to say more that could lift his spirits. But he seemed in no mood to be cheered. Perhaps it was the drink. Or perhaps it was simply Kratos. Within a few moments she heard the familiar patter of sandals on the stone floor, and in walked the serving girl with another pitcher of wine for Kratos. He stirred and beckoned the girl to his side. As he raised his arm to grasp the pitcher his hand wavered, weakened, and toppled the pitcher, spilling the wine over the serving plate as well as the floor.
"Clumsy wench"
Kratos growled and stood up, looking as though to discipline the girl. Quickly she intervened, stepping forward and grasping Kratos's chest and forearm in a motion attempting to look collegian rather than restrictive.
"I think the god of war has conquered the wine stores well enough for this evening. Clean this mess, and that will be all."
Kratos merely grunted. The girl still looked frightened, as if still expecting punishment for a crime she had not wholly committed.
"Yes, my Lady."
It struck Athena that mortals walked these halls every day, and yet she had lamented about not knowing them well enough. She realized, somewhat shamefully, that she did not seem to register them in her mind. Perhaps the servants were treated unfairly in some way. But she had enough on her mind at the moment, and let the thought pass as the girl knelt to clean the mess of wine with a large rag she had been carrying.
"Perhaps it is time to retire, Kratos. It is late."
Kratos grunted once again.
"Yes. Perhaps that would be best."
She left her hand on his forearm and seemed to guide him out of the room. As they entered the hallway, she released Kratos and stood at his side.
"I suppose I must be off to bed as well."
She turned to leave, but looked back as she heard only silence. Kratos looked left and right, as if unsure of which way to go. She paced back over to him.
"Kratos?"
"I... seem to have lost my way. Dionysus babbled as he led me to the feast and I could not focus."
Kratos admitting defeat? He was surely drunk. And she realized that she did indeed have work to do.
"He seems to have that effect on people."
Truly she knew little of the wine god, even being the goddess of wisdom. But she spoke to leave him his pride in his compromised state.
"I know the castle well. Would you like me to accompany you?"
She stepped closer and saw that his eyelids were heavily lidded.
"That would be... agreeable. These halls are maddening."
She smiled.
"Yes, I suppose they can be."
Loosely putting an arm through his, she began what would perhaps be a long walk to the other side of the castle, with the inebriated Kratos in-tow.
A/N: Hey, readers. Sorry about the slow update, but the computer room is ice cold, and I've got a lot on my plate, with more to come. Hope you enjoy this chapter. I was going to write more, but it was getting a little long. Ah, well. More for chapter 5. Thanks for reading!