I 00. I

𝑮𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒓𝒆

❝ ichor ❞

     ICHOR RAN THROUGH THEIR VEINS. That was what made them gods.

Their immortality allowed them to stand the test of time. They walked through millennia upon millennia of ruin and rubble, some they had caused, and others they hadn't. They watched as their world was in their grasp and laid on their fingertips. At any given moment, they could let it roll like dice, and toss and move the chess pieces of war.

For years they had seen heroes come and go, fighting battles they fought for their patrons or parents, trying to bring honor and pride to their great, godly beings, but it was mostly all in vain.

Bones and bones. Skeletons and skeletons littered the cold ground, buried underneath blood and gore. They fought for the gods, for Olympus, but nothing withstood the test of time like hate and fighting—and the gods.

Maybe that was why the Olympians felt the need to throw their own children into battle for them, in the name of their honor and their own pride. Because the gods had all the time in the world, and when they time would run out, that was when they would fight. Fighting harder and hard than they ever had before, and maybe, just maybe, they would feel the suffering those warriors had felt so many times before.

Golden blood was never spilled, never dropped, never splashed upon those ancient burial grounds of war cries and rivalries. It had never tasted the fresh winds from the east, or the north, or the south, or the west. It ran through and through the gods like a perpetual wheel, flowing faster and faster as the years passed.

In a blink of the eye, the gods were hundreds of years old, then thousands, than maybe even more. Born from the Titans before them, they laid them to rest. Taking over those marble thrones and standing on those marble steps they watched as civilization flourished under their hands, and were destroyed under their arrogance, their lies, their treachery, and their envy.

Sky fought the sea. Sea fought the ground. Ground fought the sky.

Gates of magic and gold harbored secrets of life and death. Hidden mysteries lied in the hands of all who crossed Olympus, knowing more and more about what was happening in the world around them, and what would soon happen later on.

Red smears lasted on fighter's hands for the remainder of their lives, never scrubbed away, always staining their once precious skin. Those hands would never see anything the same. Eyes once seeing life and boy, saw worry and danger along roads filled with flowers of blue and white. Hands would never grip an object properly without a few minor adjustments, as if readying themself to fight another battle on another day. It was a cruel, cruel fate that many were played upon, and always by the gods.

War dogs released at their touch, barking, growling, snarling when peace ran through, awaiting the moment they could run free and ruin it all.

Teeth were sharpened to fine points. A single touch could cut deep enough to end a life, letting them run again and again and again and again. Claws would grasp and hold onto those lost souls who ran forward first, sacrificing themselves for others who would never make it out alive, either.

How much longer could the earth withstand that loss? Until those bones shattered, splintering across the sky, and impaling anyone who even had the tiniest thought of starting another fight.

What of when fire would stretch across the horizon, burning trees and animals in its path, before the sea fights back and they engulf in a war or power?

No matter the cost, the size, the person, the gods sat on their thrones, watching down below while their battles were being fought for them, because they had all the time in the world, but no one else did.

Demigods told they are special. Told they would fight to save their world, only to learn they would never see their missing parent, the one who gave them that cursed life. Of course, what more would they expect from gods who had been sitting for years and had done nothing except agitate and start fights they knew they couldn't win.

No amount of lives would ever make up for what stories they could've told. What families they could've made, and the difference and change in the balance of the earth their could've been if a war had never been fought. Rome would still be standing. Centuries of castles and cathedrals would still be alive with colors and insignias and balls and royal families who had witnessed no hardships. Change would be made of war had never occurred, if the gods had never opened their fists and slammed them upon the ground.

Ichor ran through their veins. That was what made them gods.

Fear rumbled through their heads. That was what made them vulnerable.

Arrogance rushed through their hearts. That was what made them die.

When the ground shook, and the earth erupted in a loud wail, blowing their ears, making them listen to the pain and fury twisted in its words. They all awaited their fate.

Her steps were loud against the marble floor. She wouldn't stop, not for anything, not for anyone—god or not. They were in her palm, rolling around teasingly on her fingers, ready to split and crack around their edges before she picked them up and tried the same.

Slowly, it all stopped. But in time, and it was overdue, the gods would face her fury and the blood in her teeth filled with vengeance.

Surely, the gods could feel their mind splitting, their hearts ripping, and ichor would taste the fresh air and drop to the marvel floor below them. They would crumble in her hand and she would watch them with glee.

For years that was how it had been with warriors and gods. Monsters and men fighting, while they sat on their golden thrones and watched from above, focusing on themselves and their dimples problems. But no more would that be.

Soon, it would be her sitting on those thrones. She would pick up her friends—her family—and return them home with her to the ancient city of power. There, they would set things right, and she would keep the gods at bay, letting the world prosper with opportunity and peace. They would be better rulers and gods, they would be the new gods and replace those of the old.

Glory and gore was all the world knew.

She was ready to make it end.

Nothing would stop her now.

authors note:

Sneak peek at what's to come😉

I hope you all enjoyed it because I really liked writing it soooo much. Also, I saw so many comments saying how Leo's and cancers were toxic together and my face went 😖 because Ari and Percy are exactly that.

Tell me what you guys are excited the most about!

What do you think will happen?

What was your favorite part of this chapter?

Question of the chapter:

Q: If you could be some sort of royalty, like those aesthetic pictures on Pinterest, what would it be?

A: (my friend did this for me so tell me if you think it fits because I love it)

I didn't know those pictures would be so big so sorry for the abnormal amount of space.

I hope you guys enjoyed it!

I really love reading your comments and your excitement to se emote of Ari makes me really really happy!

Please keep answering the question of the chapter because I like to get to know my readers and what their like aesthetic is so it's really fun

Love you guys