God of War, Ares: Guardian

by Brandon Chen

  God of War

  Brandon Chen

  Kindle Edition

  God of War – Copyright 2016 – Brandon Chen

  Researched and written by Brandon Chen

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission.

  For permission requests, please contact: brandonchen997@gmail.com

  While every effort has been made to ensure the accuracy and legitimacy of the references, referrals, and links (collectively “Links”) presented in this e-book, Brandon Chen is not responsible or liable for broken Links or missing or fallacious information at the Links. Any Links in this e-book to a specific product, process, web site, or service do not constitute or imply an endorsement by Brandon Chen of same, or its producer or provider. The views and opinions contained at any Links do not necessarily express or reflect those of Brandon Chen.

  Formatting by Rik – Wild Seas Formatting (http://www.WildSeasFormatting.com)

  I dedicate this book to my family, who have all had a giant impact on my life and have helped me become who I am today. Thank you for supporting me.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Prince Darien

  Betrayal

  Find Yourself

  Newly Born God

  Thief

  Revenant

  Reunion

  Noble Awakening

  A New Resolve

  Taking a Final Leave

  The Deadliest Desert

  Becoming a God

  Infiltration

  Falling Stars

  Battle of Gods

  Final Words

  Warlord of Terrador

  About the Author

  Prologue

  On the sandy wasteland of the Lost Sands, three figures stood at the edge of a pitch-black chasm that tore through the center of the earth. The fiery sun beat down its mighty heat upon these immortals, who were unfazed by the Lost Sands’ extreme temperatures. The three figures gazed down into the darkness of the abyss before them as if transfixed by the depth of the fissure.

  One of these figures was a man with a long, wispy, white beard and a wizened face. He wore a white, sleeveless chiton that revealed the right side of his chest and draped down to just barely above his knees. His blue eyes reflected the color of the sky. He grunted, running his left hand through curly white hair that was as fluffy as the clouds themselves. In his right hand, he gripped a live lightning bolt that cracked and snapped with energy, glowing with silver light. “Mithra, I believe that it was your duty to subdue Ahriman. Why was it that one of my own, Ares, was found slain on the battlefield? It couldn’t possibly have been collateral damage.”

  Another man, wearing golden gleaming armor that glinted with the sun’s shining light, stood beside the older immortal. He looked middle-aged, with horns protruding from his bright helmet. He had short, curly, brunette hair, and warm, orange eyes that would only be considered normal amongst deities. “Zeus, your fellow god fled Heaven with hopes that he would find a worthy opponent in the human realm. You and I both know what happens when gods leave Heaven.”

  “Their strength is reduced and they become mortal,” Zeus murmured, understanding. Ares and Zeus were part of the same family of gods, worshipped by the humans in eastern Dastia, a continent on the planet Terrador. Zeus was hailed as the god of the sky and thunder amongst his family and worshippers, while Ares was recognized as the god of barbaric war. “So what happened here?”

  “Ahriman tried to increase his own strength above that of any other gods by building an army in the Lost Sands in secret. I was sent as a representative of the Persian pantheon to halt him. But he did not heed my warnings and thus we began to battle. However, Ahriman’s strength was far too much for me to handle alone. Ares arrived, hoping to be of some assistance, but even with the two of us, we were easily outdone by Ahriman’s dark magic. If you had not struck him down with your thunderbolt, Zeus, I may also have been killed,” Mithra said, bowing his head in thanks to the sky god.

  Zeus looked at the giant fissure that stretched across the earth before him. It was at least a mile wide and two miles deep, caused by the single thunderbolt that he had thrown. Deep within this abyss laid Ahriman’s corpse. If Ares and Mithra had not weakened the dark Persian deity, he might’ve survived Zeus’s mighty thunderbolt. “What are we supposed to do about this now? A god’s power never fades. If a human stumbles across Ahriman’s corpse and drinks his blood, they will gain the immeasurable power of the fallen Persian god.”

  Mithra nodded. “I understand that. I will ask for each of the families of gods in Heaven to donate Guardians to help deter any power-hungry humans that come near Ahriman’s body. He will be preserved and his strength will be locked away for eternity.”

  “And what about Ares?” Zeus asked. “Do you intend to do the same thing with him?”

  “No,” Mithra said, nodding to the third figure, standing behind him. “I believe that he will make the judgment regarding this matter.”

  Zeus frowned, eying the mysterious figure. He was a shirtless man with tanned skin, wearing a hat made of the carcass of a falcon. Long necklaces of multicolored gems dangled from his neck and rested on his bare chest. He was holding a staff that looked like an ordinary stick in his right hand, jamming it deep into the sand as he eyed Zeus with his mystifying golden eyes with thinly-slitted pupils, similar to those of an eagle. “Ra, I wasn’t aware that your pantheon was a part of this quarrel.”

  “It isn’t,” Ra said in a deep voice. “However, I am the creator of the Lost Sands, and two corpses of great gods have ended up in my territory.” He looked up at the sun and exhaled. “I do not believe it wise to use the same tactics on Ares’ power.”

  “Why is that? If a human got his hands on Ares’ strength then—”

  “If,” Ra interrupted Zeus, causing the god’s face to turn red with fury. He was not used to such a lack of respect. “I control the Lost Sands. Those who give in to the temptations of the natural sins of man fall victim to the countless traps that I have fortified in this desert. The Lost Sands punishes those with weak will and ill intentions. I believe that passing on the power of Ares to an infallible human would be wise. After all, why waste Ares’ power and leave it sitting there unused for millennia? Why not just pick a chosen hero who will claim his strength? One who is worthy.”

  “One needs responsibility when wielding the enormous strength of a god,” Mithra murmured. “How do you intend to pick a human that has the capacity for such responsibility? How do you know that they won’t abuse their strength and wreck havoc upon other humans?”

  “I will judge them myself. And, of course, if my chosen champion misuses their magic, then you are free to slay them,” Ra said with a small smile. “After all, Ares’ strength can be contained. Ahriman’s cannot.”

  Zeus scoffed, looking away. “Do what you want, solar deity. But if your little experiment fails, I will execute the new Ares myself and make sure his strength is locked away forever.” He began to walk away from Mithra and Ra, not bothering to look at the other two gods any longer. There was a crackle of lightning as a thundering bolt ripped from the heavens and smashed into Zeus’s body, sending surges of vibrant light flashing in the air. In an instant, the god was gone, with nothing but a crater of scorching-hot glass in his place.

  Mithra turned to Ra. “I expect that you’ll be testing candidates yourself to pass Ares’ strength onto, correct?”

  Ra smiled slyly. “Of course.”
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br />   Prince Darien

  A succulent slab of meat sizzled loudly on the black stone pan. Oils bubbled around the crispy brown beef, which gleamed with perfection. The king’s personal chef, wearing a tall white hat embellished with a red crown insignia, tossed the sizzling pan forward and back. He hummed a small tune as he cooked the king’s personal lunch. There were many chefs wearing aprons in the room that were preparing a feast for a casual meal for the royal family of Persia. Though, every single meal was a feast for them.

  The head chef adjusted his hat as he took the pan off of the fire, which blazed upon a group of closely clustered stones. He gently scraped the slab of delicately cooked meat onto a glistening golden plate. The chef carefully picked up a silver creamer filled with gleaming hazel-brown sauce. The wonderful aroma of the peppered gravy drifted freely through the packed kitchen and the other cooks smiled at its exquisite scent. The head chef stroked his curly grey mustache as he was about to gently pour the sauce onto the delectable meat. It had to be perfectly done, otherwise the chef would have to toss the food and redo it from scratch.

  Suddenly someone bumped into the chef, causing the creamer to fall forward and spill the thick sauce all over the plate and on the table, splattering it haphazardly on the meat. The head chef stared at his creation in absolute horror, his hands trembling with profound rage and frustration. He spun around to see who had bumped into him and frowned, seeing that there was no one there. The cook then heard a dissonance of screams and shrill screeches echoing from his fellow chefs. The head chef spotted two young boys sprinting through the kitchen, playing a friendly game of tag as they chased each other playfully, creating a trail of chaos to everything in their path. “Stop!” the head chef bellowed, his face turning bright red as he continued to yell at the two children, who didn’t seem at all intent on stopping.

  The boys burst through the door that exited the kitchen, out onto a stone pathway with a crimson-red carpet running along it. One boy tackled the other and they playfully rolled together on the ground, laughing hysterically.

  One of the boys propped himself up into a sitting position, tossing his curly blonde hair, revealing cerulean blue eyes that reflected the same color as the open skies on a sunny day. He had full lips, and grinned a bright smile, filled with glistening white teeth. The boy wore expensive blue robes that were draped over his delicately woven white linens. His name was Darien, and he was prince and current heir to the throne of Persia, the most powerful empire in the continent of Dastia.

  His friend, named Tetsu Hayashi, was a foreigner to the continent. He had black, spiky hair with sharp bangs that sliced down his forehead, and darkened eyes that gleamed with glee as he beamed at his friend. He wore a black, sleeveless shirt with long, baggy pants.

  Normally, Darien wasn’t allowed to interact with people like Tetsu. Anyone of a lesser status than nobles was usually not even able to come into contact with someone as important as the prince, unless they were serving him. However, Tetsu was an exception. The boys were only fifteen years old, and Tetsu was already widely renowned throughout the Persian Empire for his expertise with the sword.

  Tetsu was born a member of the renowned Hayashi clan, a clan that many considered to be demons in disguise. Most didn’t even consider them to be human because their superhuman reflexes and combat skills exceeded those of any other human. Tetsu’s small village had been raided and obliterated by another empire when he was younger. His family was slain and he was taken as a slave. He won his freedom within several months by fighting in the arena against other gladiators. The boy was a prodigy with the sword, and had slain hundreds by the time he was in his teens. He then fled the empire as a free boy and came to Persia, offering his services as the king’s protector. While it was a long process before Tetsu finally became a member of the Persian king’s royal guard, he eventually was assigned to protect Darien. The two, coincidently being the same age, quickly became the best of friends.

  “What are you two doing?” a high-pitched, wavering, voice hollered in the hallway.

  Darien and Tetsu glanced in the direction of the shaky voice, expecting to get scolded and punished after sprinting straight through the royal kitchen. But they turned to find their other friend, Yuu, standing there. The boy was wearing fancy white linens with golden buttons running down his shirt’s center. His black pants drooped down to his snake-hide leather sandals. His abnormally snow-white hair was flat on his head, and he had long bangs that flowed like a stream just above his eyes. His irises were turquoise blue, and tiny tears gleamed in the corners of his eyes.

  “Having some fun, Yuu. You should try it sometime,” Tetsu sneered.

  “Shut up, Tetsu! You know that one step out of line will bring dishonor to my family. I cannot have an atrocity such as that happen! As for you, Darien! D-Don’t you think that your father will be angry with you for interrupting the chefs’ preparation of the meals? I-I mean, you know Hussan is just doing all of it for your family.”

  Hussan was the head chef, appointed by Darien’s father himself. Darien shrugged. “I guess. But Tetsu dared me to do it.”

  “Did not!” Tetsu protested.

  Suddenly Hussan burst through the door into the hallway, a vein bulging from his forehead as he confronted the three boys. The chef wasn’t afraid to get furious around Darien; after all, Hussan had been around since the prince was born. The fact he hadn’t been executed throughout his many years of service was a feat in itself. Those who didn’t meet the king’s expectations were immediately disposed of; that was how things worked in Persia. This meant that Hussan had yet to fail the royal family, and he definitely didn’t intend to let them down anytime soon. The chef reached out and grabbed Tetsu and Yuu by their ears, ignoring their squirming. “Listen, you two, I was just about to have the damned meal finished for the king! But you troublemakers screwed it up, so now I have to start all over again!” he boomed at the two boys.

  “Ow, ow, ow!” Tetsu yelped, wincing.

  “It wasn’t me! It wasn’t me!” Yuu screeched.

  Hussan glared at Darien and sighed. “Milord, what were you thinking?”

  Darien shrugged. “Clearly I wasn’t.”

  Hussan released Yuu’s ear and used his other hand to smack Tetsu upside the head. “You kids better not come into my kitchen again or cause any more mischief! All I’ve been hearing is how Tetsu and Prince Darien have been messing around all about the castle. You two have been up to no good recently.”

  “We haven’t been doing any harm to anyone!” Tetsu complained innocently, but Hussan raised an index finger, exhaling his rage from his nose.

  “I ought to take a ladle and plug your damned mouth shut so you’ll stop talking. You aren’t a noble so no one will be able to protect you from my wrath,” Hussan growled, clearly showing his distaste toward Tetsu.

  “Try it, old man!” Tetsu challenged the cook.

  “My, my! Now, I almost thought that we’d get through a whole day without trouble!” A middle-aged man with a long, grizzly, black beard sauntered through the hallway. He wore a long, black robe that draped down to his tiger-hide boots, and a golden necklace rested on his chest. The man smiled through his thick beard. “Hussan, I do apologize for my nephew and his friend’s misbehavior. I hope that you can come to forgive the two of them.” Darien’s uncle, Cambyses, bowed his head lightly to the chef.

  Hussan’s face paled as white as a ghost. Having a member of the royal family bow like that to him sent a tingling feeling shivering through his body. He swallowed the rock in his throat. “D-Don’t worry about it, Lord Cambyses. I’ll have the next meal ready as soon as I can. J-Just make sure that these two young boys don’t disturb my work again. My job, serving the king the best food in the empire, is already difficult enough. Having interruptions and disturbances makes my profession much harder.”

  “Of course, Hussan.” Cambyses smiled. “I’ll make sure these boys are tame by tomorrow so they won’t bother you again.”

  Huss
an nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Cambyses turned to Tetsu and Darien and sighed. “What were you two thinking?”

  “That’s what I asked!” Yuu exclaimed a little too rashly. He blinked, realizing the words he had been thinking had just slipped out of his mouth, and quickly covered his lips with both his hands. “S-Sorry! I didn’t mean to answer without being spoken to, milord!”

  Cambyses laughed heartily and patted Yuu on the head. “No worries, son. You are the one who maintains stability in this crazy trio. It’s a wonder why you hang around these other two, huh?”

  “Yuu is too much of a baby to do anything that we do,” Tetsu teased.

  “A-am not! You guys just do really dumb things that will only get you in trouble! They heed no benefits except thrill and that’s not worth getting privileges revoked or a terrible scolding from Hassan and our king!” Yuu retorted.

  Tetsu grunted, folding his arms and glancing away. “Stop using big words, you baby.”

  “You boys should follow Yuu’s example. After all, he’s widely respected by his peers and is getting top marks on all his tests. He’s going to make his family proud of his accomplishments.”

  Yuu put his hands on his hips and beamed boldly, as if he were some type of a legendary hero. Tetsu quickly put an end to his fantasies by giving him a gentle shove, pushing him off balance.

  Cambyses chuckled at the children as they bickered. “Now, now, you two. No fighting. Might you give my nephew and me a moment alone? I would like to speak to him in private. I’ll take him to dinner with his Majesty and her Highness, but we will see you two later, yes?”

  Tetsu and Yuu exchanged puzzled glances and shrugged. The two of them argued quietly as they walked down the hallway, leaving Cambyses and Darien in silence.

  “What is it, uncle?” Darien asked curiously.