Prologue:

THE FALL OF A KING

Greece 380 B.C.

A lonely figure was walking among the shadows of the olive trees. A cloak covered his body, but even with the cloak on you could still see that the man was a warrior. The shield on his back and a sword on his hip were just the confirmation of that.

Suddenly the man stopped, with a careful eye he scouted the surroundings searching for a sign of an enemy. He looked around and when he asserted that he was alone he stopped. He put down a bundle, that till now had been hidden from the view by his cloak.

The man looked down, from the white blanket of the bundle silent snoring could be heard. The man looked down lovingly to his child, his only child, his son. He knew that the biggest honor for a man like him was dying on a battlefield, and he knew that tomorrow he will be dead, he was ready, but his child was too small, too fragile, too young to die. He cannot send him to the city may be the enemy has spies there, and they would kill him. No. His child needs to be protected, in a place far away from home, he knew that even his wife would approve of this choice. But the problem was that he did not know where he could find such a place. So for the first time in thirty years, he prayed alone, not in a big temple or during a great ceremony, he prayed alone in the woods with his son on the ground in front of him.

He prayed and prayed to the only god that would respond to a warrior in need, and when he was about to lose his hope a column of fire appeared in front of him.

From the fire column a man appeared, or god if we want to be precise. He was at least 7ft (2.15m). His muscles were more bull-like than human-like, his eyes bright like two stars, one his hip a sword on his back a shield, that probably only he could lift, on which stood proudly his symbol, a wild boar impaled by a spear, in his hand a spear, twice as large as normal, which had more things in common with a small tree than with a normal spear. Even if this was the first time in his life that he saw that man, the warrior knew that this was his father. This man was Ares. He immediately bowed as you would in the presence of a god.

Ares looked down to see who called him, he instantly recognized his son, his soon-to-be greatest son: "Don't bow to my, son. Why have you called me for the first time in your life?".

Leonidas looked him in the eyes: "My lord…"

Ares looked at him with a sparkle in the eyes: "Father."

The Spartan nodded: "Father, tomorrow I will die, I know that and I have no fear or remorse, It's an honor dying for my people and my country."

"I can sense a but hear son, so talk and talk fast I'm not Athena I don't like words" when he said that, an owl hooted in the distance, Ares chuckled at this: "Yes I'm talking about you"

The spartan with some fear in his voice said: "Father even if I'm ready to die, my child is not. He is only one year old, he needs to live. If you can save him, I offer to you my life and my soul."

Ares watched down to his son thoughtfully and said: "There is no need for such a thing tomorrow you will die a hero. Give me your son, I'll take care of him."

"Thank you father, I will pray and sacrifice to you"

"I don't need that son, tomorrow die a hero, make me proud."

The man gave his son to Ares, the small child like a doll in the hands of the massive figure of the god.

"Goodbye father"

"Goodbye, my son."

Having said that, the man turned and headed for the battlefield, his posture stoic, without a trace of fear. The owl could be still heard in the distance, the light of the full moon illuminated the warrior giving a sense of mysticism to the scene.

Ares watched his son for another moment and then flashed away with the child.

Line break

Ares was walking on the muddy battlefield, the light that was illuminating the bodies was suffocated by the smoke that was coming from the camp of his son's enemy where they unceremoniously burned their dead. His eyes were fixed only on the dead men with red cloaks before him. In his rage, the mad king ordered his men to leave their bodies to rot. One man stood out for the number of arrows and wounds on his body. The man was his son. Ares launched a bag of drachmas in the center of the battlefield: " For Charon". Immediately Ares saw the souls of the dead warriors left their bodies and head for the underworld.

In his hands the small child was crying, he looked in his eyes, small sea-green eyes filled with despair as if even at his young age he understand what was happening. He didn't know where to hide the baby, he needed time to think of a good place, but he didn't have a lot of time, a big war was raging in Greece, and he as the god of war was needed elsewhere, now he had no time for a child even if he was the child of his greatest son. And then an idea came to him, there is a place where he could hide the child until the end of the war, a small island where time is ambiguous and strange, the island of the Lotus-eaters.

The god smiled to himself and praised his intelligence. The idea was perfect, the child would remain there until the end of the hostilities, and after the end of the war, he will take back the child, and find him a new home. He flashed to the Lotus-eaters island and left the child there, but not before he said to the Lotus-eaters that if anything happened to the child he would kill every single one of them.

This was a good plan but he forgot about a small thing. It was a time of war end chaos in Greece and the god on war, soon forgot about the small child that he had left on the island of the Lotus-eaters.