Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters of Ares and Artemis belong to Greek Mythology and also apparently to Universal Studios and Pacific Renaissance and this story is not intended to violate any copyrights held by MCA, Universal Studios, Renaissance Pictures or any other entity involved in the making of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys or Xena: Warrior Princess.
Crash; metal against metal, metal clanging on stone wall, metal bouncing off stone floor; a cacophony of sound exploded from the highest tower of Ares’ castle. The God of War strode angrily into his throne room and looked for the source of the noise. His nephew, the hapless Strife, was buried under shields, spears and swords. "What are you doing?" he thundered.
Strife cowered under the weaponry and mumbled, "I was just looking for something to play with."
"These are not toys," Ares yelled. He waved his long fingers once and the elegant armor and weaponry slipped back into place on the wall.
"Thanks Unc," Strife said as he sat up. "That stuff is heavy."
"You’re lucky I don’t hang you up there with them," the God of War replied. "Now what were you really looking for?"
"I, uh, I, met this, that is," Strife hung his head in shame.
Ares laughed; this was going to be good. He strolled over to his throne, his long legs crossing the room in seconds. He settled himself comfortably and commanded, "Tell me Strife. What are you up to?"
Strife rose from the floor, his long arms hanging loosely at his side. His short black hair stood up on end and his pale skin got even paler as he stared at his Uncle. He had never looked less like a God and more like a worm. He slithered across the room to stand as supplicant. "Well Unc, you see, I met, um, I found this."
"Strife," Ares thundered. "Spit it out or so help me, I’ll pull it from you inch by inch."
Strife dropped his head even lower, his eyes afraid to meet his uncle’s. "I met a girl," he said simply.
"A girl?" Ares licked his full sensual lips. "What kind of girl?"
"A mortal girl," Strife remarked with embarrassment. "I know, I know, I’m not supposed to mix with that kind. But you know the Goddesses won’t have anything to do with me. And well, even a God has needs!"
Ares did not attempt to hide his contempt when he asked, "Where did you meet her? And why should that require removing a piece of my weapon treasury?"
Strife swallowed hard and looked terrified when he answered. "Well, see, she’s uh, that is, she thinks she’s a priestess of your temple."
Ares’ dark eyes smoldered when he asked furiously, "What temple? Where? Do you see a temple here? I don’t see a temple. There hasn’t been a temple in my honor for over 2000 years Strife. What are you talking about?"
"The Internet," he whispered.
"The Internet?" Ares repeated with puzzlement. "What in Zeus’s name is the Internet?"
Strife gestured wildly, his hands moving in every direction as he replied, "Computers, Unc. You know, high-speed data lines, modems, chat rooms, communication with anyone, anywhere, faster than even a God can blink. You type a message and within seconds someone reads it and answers you back. You can be anywhere in the world and so can they."
The God of War shifted on his throne, "Why in Tartarus would anyone want to communicate by typing, when they could speak face to face?"
"Well, Unc," Strife said, moving closer to the throne, "not everyone is quite as good-looking as you are. Some of us prefer to be anonymous."
"I see," Ares said thoughtfully. "But I still do not understand why communicating with someone via this Internet would require you to steal from me."
Strife looked embarrassed, "Well I don’t want to just communicate with her on the Internet. I want to meet her. She agreed to meet me, but she wants proof I'm your nephew."
"You told her you were my nephew?" Ares roared. His brow furrowed with anger when he added, "You told her we Olympian Gods still existed?"
Strife, for once, refused to be afraid of his uncle’s anger. "Well she was all set to believe it anyway. I told you, she thinks she’s your priestess. Of course, she also thinks you look like that guy on TV. Boy is she wrong! Anyway, she agreed to meet me if I would bring your sword. She seems to be under the impression your sword is also your godhood."
Ares shook his head in wonder. "Foolish mortal, how could she think that? A God is born a God, there is no specific talisman or token that holds our power."
"Well I know that and you know that, but apparently the writers of that TV show think otherwise." Strife inched closer to his uncle. "She told me about this really cool episode where Ares lost his sword/godhood and became mortal for a while. He had to be saved by Xena while she was in the body of Callisto and…"
Ares pointed his finger at Strife and Strife jumped back five feet. "Enough already! I don’t know who this Xena person is and I don’t want to. You wish a sword to show this mortal of yours?"
Strife nodded, "Yes Unc, I thought maybe one of the jeweled ones would impress her."
"One of the jeweled ones," Ares stroked his goatee thoughtfully. There was that very special one; still, no mortal had ever managed to survive it’s power or undo it’s curse. "What is this girl’s name?"
"She calls herself Ileana," Strife said as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"What do you mean she calls herself that?"
"Well see Unc, you don’t use your real name on the Internet." Strife began to shift nervously back and forth. "Everyone has another name, like, remember when everyone was into CB radios and had those ‘handles.’ Same thing, only now, at least in the temple where I met Ileana, they have names like our godly relatives and others from Greece. I’ve met Apollos, Athenas, Discords, Heras, Callistos, etc."
Ares grinned evilly, "And what name do you go by?"
"Oh I don’t use a handle, they just think I do. I’m always Strife."
"Ileana?" Ares stared thoughtfully off into space. His eyes narrowing as he remembered his "Ileana." She had been so beautiful; an Amazon with unparalleled skills and strength of heart, a true match for him in every way.
Ares made a decision, "Well Strife, let’s go see this mortal of yours."
"Look Unc, it’s not that I don’t think you’d be a great asset to our first meeting, but . . ."
"But what?" the God of War roared.
Strife whether from need or sheer folly let loose with the truth, "With you around she wouldn’t give me another glance. You look every inch a God, but not me. I’m lucky if I can get a date with a paid escort."
"Strife," Ares said gently, "why don’t you just change yourself into something women find more appealing?"
"Cause," he sang giving a rousing imitation of Sammy Davis Jr., "I gotta be me!"
Ares shook his head. Sometimes he just did not understand his nephew. "Well before I give you one of my swords I wish to know what this mortal looks like. Have you seen her?"
"Well, yes and no."
"What does that mean?"
Strife said, "Come with me. I’ll show you."
Ares rose from his throne, his powerful muscles rippling. "Where are we, oh never mind. Just get to it Strife." His patience was wearing thin.
Strife led his uncle out of the throne room and down several sets of steep stairs. Down to the basement. Strife was exiled there the day he discovered heavy metal music. Ares hated it, except Iron Maiden, but what he liked about them was their name.
Finally, as they neared Strife’s room, Ares asked, "Why did we do this the long way?"
Strife grinned mischievously; he knew his uncle hated exercise. "I forget sometimes."
Strife opened the door to his room and the first thing to assault Ares’ senses was a smell; a smell so strong and so vile he actually felt nauseated. "What is that odor?" he demanded.
Strife rushed into his bedroom and quickly found the item offending his uncle. "Patchouli oil. It used to be quite popular in the 70’s." Strife capped the bottle, opened another, this one of Old Spice, and shook it around the room. "Is this better?"
"No it is not," Ares said. "Don’t you have a window we can open?"
"It’s the basement, remember?"
Ares pointed his silver ring at the back wall and blasted a hole in it. Fresh air filled the room. Soon the offending smell was gone. With another wave of his hand, the wall rebuilt itself. Now all that was left was the mess that was Strife’s room.
Every inch of wall was covered with posters. Posters in ancient Greek, posters with bright neon color, posters with witches and wizards and cars. A poster said WCW and showed two gaudily dressed gladiators in a strange shaped arena. There was a picture of someone who looked like Ares parallel self, the God of Love, in a white suit painted on black velvet. There were several pictures of completely naked women with staples in their belly buttons and so much more. Ares was getting quite dizzy trying to figure out what Strife had intended with this variety of images.
The desk was filled with electronic equipment and one whole wall was stacked with still more equipment and a rack of small square boxes that reached to the ceiling.
'I am really out of touch,' Ares thought. 'I can’t even put a name to most of this stuff. Best not let Strife know that. It wouldn’t do for him to think he’s smarter than I am.'
Strife walked over to the desk, sat down in the chair, flipped some switches and a big box lit up. Another piece of equipment made a noise like crickets; within seconds Ares heard the sound of bells and a voice out of nowhere said, "Welcome."
He glanced around; no one else was there. Hiding his surprise, he strode over to stand behind Strife. The big box now had a picture on it. A most amazing picture; there was a girl staring at him. She had a sweet round face surrounded by blond spikes. Wide-set blue eyes were ringed in black. There was a ring in her nose, another on her lip, and ten earrings and other items dangled from each ear. She was dressed in an outfit he remembered vaguely as something Dominatrix wore during the Spanish Inquisition. "This is your ‘friend’?" he asked.
"Yeah Unc, isn’t she hot?" Strife leered.
Ares inched closer to the screen and asked, "Where did you get this picture?"
Strife looked at him as if he were an idiot and said, "She scanned it then e-mailed it to me."
'That’s it, I have to get out more,' Ares thought. 'I have no idea what he’s talking about.' "So she’s the one you want to meet and impress?"
Strife nodded, "I’m supposed to e-mail her when I get your sword and then she’ll tell me where to meet her."
Ares turned away from the screen and said softly, "I see. Well Strife, give me a day to think this over. I’ll decide tomorrow what we’re going to do."
"But Unc."
"Tomorrow Strife," and with a snap of his fingers, Ares had gone.
Strife caressed the monitor and murmured, "Soon my sweet, I’ll be with you soon."
Ares stood in front of his mirror. e was about to viu He was about to visit the modern world and it had been a long time. Although as himself he was tall, powerful and good-looking for his age (somewhere around 3000 he supposed) he knew his ‘look,' as Strife called it wouldn’t work. He waved his hand and transformed.
In place of the tall dark God of War, stood what he had heard his nephew refer to as a ‘nerd.’ He was much shorter; his long black hair was now stringy blond and tied back in a ponytail. Instead of leather pants and vest, he wore a big Hawaiian print shirt and baggy blue jeans. Instead of black leather boots, he wore open-toed sandals with socks. 'It needs something more,' he thought. 'Got it.' He snapped his fingers; thick wire-rim glasses covered his dark eyes and a baseball cap bearing the legend ‘Ares Rules’ was on his head. Perfect.
He snapped his fingers again and reappeared outside a computer store. He took a deep breath and walked inside. Not much made the God of War quiver in his boots, but the sight of row upon row of high-tech machines was quite daunting. 'Still if I can train Amazons, I can handle this.' He looked around for someone to help him.
He eyed the sales staff speculatively. Yes, there was a likely candidate. She had long brown hair, big brown eyes and wore a nametag that said Lilly. He shuffled over to her slowly. He raised his voice two octaves and said, "Excuse me, I need to buy a computer."
"Sure," she replied, snapping her gum. "You want a name brand or IBM compatible? Pentium 1,2 or 3? 200 or higher megahertz? What kind of modem? JPEG or MPEG? Desktop or laptop, voice mail or . . ."
Ares was lost after the first question. When Lilly ran down he said, "Look I don’t know anything about computers. How about I tell you what I want and you translate it into a machine for me?"
She smiled at the ‘geek’ and said, "Sure. What do you want?"
Ares replied, "I want to use the Internet and I want something small."
"Okay. You want a laptop capable of surfing."
He was still confused. He thought surfing was what Apollo and Aphrodite did on water. "I guess, something simple to use."
"I’ve got just the thing," she said. She led Ares to a row of laptops. "This one is easy to use, comes loaded with all the latest browsers, is totally Y2K safe and runs for 30 hours on a single charge."
"Show me," he commanded.
"Okay," she agreed. Lilly booted up the machine and with a few deft clicks of her fingers had accessed an Internet connection. Within minutes, she had shown him enough for him to begin surfing himself. But the real miracle had yet to happen. Lilly showed him how to use the computer to track the news.
"You mean," he said when she showed him CNN on-line," I can find out about wars and conflicts before they are about to start?"
"Yeah or anything else."
"I’ll take it." The God of War paid for his laptop (Zeus frowned upon stealing from mortals) and walked out of the store with his new toy. When he was safely outside he snapped his fingers and returned to his castle.
Early the next morning Strife knocked timidly on Ares’ bedroom door. He had been in a fever all night, thinking about Ileana and wondering what his uncle would do.
When Ares answered his knock, Strife was surprised at how the God of War looked. Ares’ eyes were red and bleary as if he had been up all night reading. Strife knew his uncle didn’t read, preferring instead to watch the world through his looking glass, so he wondered what Ares had been up to.
"Morning Unc," he said as he followed Ares into the room. "How are you?"
"Fine," the God of War responded.
"Have you thought any more about my request for you to lend me a sword?"
"Yes," he said, "I have. You may take this one." Ares handed Strife a beautiful silver sword with emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and other precious jewels laid out in the pattern of a star on the hilt. He showed him the magic scabbard that would keep the sword hidden until it was needed. "But Strife, I have one request."
"What?" Strife asked as he took the sword and scabbard from his uncle.
"I wish to be there when you meet this mortal." At the panicked look on Strife’s face he added, "Don’t worry. I won’t interfere. I just wish to see what happens with your mortal. You must tell her she may only look upon the sword, but not touch it. If she tries to take it from you, dire consequences will follow."
Strife attempted to hand the sword and scabbard back to Ares. "If it’s cursed I don’t want it. Give me a different one."
The God of War shook his head. "No Strife, it’s this one or none at all. If this mortal is as special as you think, she will not try to steal the sword from you. She will be happy to meet you."
"Okay Unc, I’ll be right back." Strife clicked his fingers, vanished and then in a blink of an eye, returned. "She was on-line. I’m supposed to meet her in half an hour."
"Where?"
"Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, at a hotel called Athens, in a bar called Taverna."
Ares nodded, "Very well, let’s go."
"But Unc," Strife protested, "it’s not time yet."
Ares shook his head, "Strife, I would have thought if you learned anything from me in all these centuries, you would have learned to check out the terrain before the enemy does."
"But Ileana is not the enemy," Strife said.
"Are you so sure of that?" Ares inquired. He pointed at Strife and added, "From what you tell me, your mortal seems to want the sword she believes is my godhood. Which, if it existed in the form she believes, would allow her to take over my job. That doesn’t sound like a ‘friend’ to me."
"I never thought of it that way," Strife replied.
"I know. That is why I am the God of War, and you are an obsequious toad." Ares looked impatient. "Come on Strife, let’s go." The two Gods snapped their fingers and when they reappeared in a crowded room full of smoke and noise, at first no one noticed.
Strife dressed in his usual black jumpsuit with silver epaulets, silver edging and silver zippers didn’t seem to out of place. Ares, on the other hand, was causing a sensation. Even in a city where everyone dressed and behaved to excess, he was a sight. Tall, dark, good-looking and dressed in leather pants so tight every one of his muscles was clearly defined. His open vest showed his incredibly powerful arms and massive chest to great advantage. Women all over the room were beginning to perspire just from seeing him. Quickly he metamorphosed into a scaled down version of himself, wearing T-shirt and jeans.
"Strife, you go to the bar. I’ll sit at a table. You take the sword and wait for your friend."
"Yeah, okay Unc," Strife said. The sword was in his hands and invisible. Strife slithered over to the bar and ordered a ‘sex on the beach.’
Ares sat at a small table, keeping an eye on Strife while glancing around the room. This Las Vegas was an interesting place. 'Must remember to come back here sometime on my own,' he thought. He could feel the passion and rage rising from the players at the dice tables.
A waitress dressed in a 90’s version of Amazon garb appeared and asked him what he wanted to drink. Ares ordered a beer. Strife was shifting nervously at the bar, his head turning to look right, then left, then right again. 'I really need to talk to that boy,' Ares thought. 'Will he never learn desperation is a turn-off?'
Ares saw Ileana before Strife did. She looked exactly like her picture only more so. In vibrant living color, she also bore a shocking resemblance to the original Ileana except for her clothes and adornments. She spotted Strife immediately and went to him.
Ares observed her as she introduced herself and sat down. He was to far away to hear what they were saying, but for the moment, he was content simply to watch. Strife was making an ass of himself, trying to look cool and suave. His feeble attempts at flirting were ridiculous. Ileana was looking alternately amused and scared. Strife signaled the bartender and ordered something for Ileana that made her laugh.
Now Ileana leaned closer to him and seemed to be asking him something. Strife nodded his head affirmatively and then he pulled the sword out of the scabbard.
What happened next happened very quickly. From out of nowhere, three large security guards surrounded Strife and Ileana. They seemed intent on taking the sword out of Strife’s hands. Ares couldn’t allow that, so with a wave of his hand, the three guards moved away as if by magic. He jumped up from his chair and ran to his nephew and the girl. He grabbed Ileana around the waist. "Now Strife," he said urgently. "Back to the castle." Ares snapped his fingers, hoping Strife would follow and within seconds, he and the squirming female were in his throne room.
Strife arrived a moment later, still clutching the sword. "Let go of me," Ileana shrieked. Ares reluctantly did so.
"Ileana," Strife mumbled. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean, you weren’t supposed. Unc, why’d you do that?"
Ares gave him a scathing look, "If we hadn’t left, those mortals would have touched the sword. We cannot have that."
Ileana was reaching for the sword. Ares grabbed it away. "Now my little one," he asked her, "just what do you think you’re doing?"
"I want to touch the sword of your godhood," she murmured in awe.
"And just why would you want to do that?" Ares asked.
"I wish to be immortal," she replied.
He leered and said softly, "And why would you think touching my sword would do that?"
Suddenly Ileana’s sweet face took on an almost feral look. "The legend says if you steal the sword of Ares, you can become the God or in my case, the Goddess of War."
Now Ares was amused, "And why would you want to do that?"
Her blue eyes opened wide as she retorted, "Why? Why not? It would be so incredibly cool to be the Goddess of War. I would have power over everyone. I could do all sorts of cool stuff, like make fire shoot out of my fingers, start wars, kill people. It would be great."
Ares caught Strife’s eye and gave him a look as if to say, 'This is your idea of a date?' "Well little one, I have a very unpleasant surprise for you," Ares said. "My godhood does not reside in a sword. And certainly not that one."
Ileana looked surprised, "It doesn’t? But the TV show…"
"The TV show is a crock," Ares thundered. "That TV show is my blasted half-brother’s half-baked idea of a joke. It is so full of half-truths and out-right lies, it’s laughable. Given your apparent propensity for violence, I’m surprised you didn’t call yourself Callisto. Of course, the real Callisto was nothing like the one from the show either. Now, tell me your real name and your real agenda."
Ares moved toward her menacingly. Strife jumped between them and said, "Unc, you can’t treat her like this. She’s a guest. You know how Zeus gets when we mistreat guests."
This made the God of War pause, but only for a moment. "Strife," he said, "have you noticed your little friend here doesn’t seem surprised by what happened? It’s almost as if she expected it." Ares moved closer and this time Strife stepped out of his way. "You wanted this sword?" He dangled it in front of her, "Well take it."
"But Unc," was as far as Strife got. With a thought, Ares sent him spinning across the length of the throne room.
"What’s the matter little one," Ares asked in a dangerous tone of voice, "are you afraid?"
"Not all at," Ileana mumbled.
"Then take it," now Ares voice was like silk. A soft caress, seductive and wily. "Don’t be afraid. If your heart is pure, no harm will come to you."
Ileana’s eyes grew greedy and she reached out her hand to take it. "No," shouted Strife. "Don’t, it’s…."
"Shut up Strife," Ares roared. Once again, a thought sent him spinning across the room.
"Come on, I know you want it," he said enticingly. "See how beautiful it is? See how the jewels in the hilt shine. It’s calling to you, isn’t it?"
"Yes," she replied breathlessly. "Please, may I have it?"
Ares handed the sword to Ileana and when she took it, a change came over her. The young blond in leather was gone, replaced by his sister, Eris, Goddess of Discord.
"I knew it," he thundered. "I knew it. Eris, what in Tartarus are you playing at?"
"Can’t blame a girl for trying to have a little fun, can you?" she asked. "Oh it feels so good to be back in my own body and clothes. What is that sword anyway?"
Ares stared at her. Her own body and clothes were much less enchanting than that which she had been in previously were. "It’s the Sword of Purity. Hesphestaus made it for me, before we had our little ‘problem.’ Any mortal who touches it changes into their true soul, unless they are pure of heart. It was a great way for me to tell if a warlord was as evil as he wanted me to believe." And, he thought sadly, for me to discover if a mortal woman’s love was pure.
"Wow," Eris said, "you must have made some interesting new friends with that thing. How come I didn’t change?"
"Oh but you did," he said. "You became yourself when you touched it. I think you owe an explanation to me and to Strife."
"I want to know where Ileana is!" Strife demanded.
"There is no Ileana you idiot," Eris said. "It was always me. I was surfing, same as you. At first I didn’t realize it was you, not until you actually scanned that picture of yourself and e-mailed me. Seriously Strife, for a God as old as you, you sure are naïve. Never, ever send a picture of yourself to someone you don’t know. If I had been a real mortal woman, you’d have frightened me to death."
"Thanks a lot," Strife hissed at her. "Now how am I supposed to get a date?"
"Listen nit-wit," Eris argued, "I don’t care what you do to get a date. Just stay out of my temple, okay?"
Ares tuned out their squabbling. Carefully, gently, he laid the Sword of Purity, the one that held, not only the power to make a mortal show their true self, but Ileana’s soul, back in the velvet lined case. He touched his fingers to his lips and gently pressed them to the star on the hilt. 'Someday,' he thought, 'someday, I will find a way to get you out of there. In the meantime, your soul will sparkle as the jewels on this sword, forever a celestial beacon to my heart.'
The Myth of the Sword of Purity
Once upon a time, long ago, Ares, the God of War, asked Hesphestaus, God of the Forge, to make for him a very special sword. Hesphestaus had forged many extraordinary items over the years and the sword Ares requested was another. The God of War wasn’t looking for a better cutting edge or something to deal a deathblow; the sword was not intended for battle. The sword was to be a lure; bait for discovering the truth in a mortal’s soul. For when a mortal touched the Sword of Purity, their true character was revealed. And so it came to pass Hesphestaus forged his brother a great and beautiful sword.
The perverse and demanding God of War began to play with his new toy. When the great Warlord Gaveris touched the sword, he turned into a giant. Agrain touched it and became a snarling lion. Jophes turned into a giant toad. And so on.
Hesphestaus did not trust his brother, so he secretly added a curse to the power of the sword. Any mortal who was pure of heart and touched it would lose their soul to it, would become one with the great sword. He did not share this curse with Ares. On the day Ares lost the one he loved to the sword’s curse, he came to Hesphestaus in a blinding rage, demanding Hesphestaus reverse the magic.
Hesphestaus could not and Ares, full of vengeance decided to take from him, what Hesphestaus loved most. Ares deliberately seduced his sister, Aphrodite, Hesphestaus’ wife. She bore him three children: Harmonia, Deimos, and Phobus (Fear and Panic) who followed their Father everywhere. But this was not enough for the God of War. He continued to charm Aphrodite, so much so, that whenever an opportunity arose, she would invite him to Hesphestaus’ home to cuckold her husband. However, in the end, as so often happens, the one seeking vengeance has retribution turned on them. Hesphestaus constructed a cage of adamant and the next time the lovers were together and naked, sprung the trap. Ares and Aphrodite were caught in the act in a cage. Hesphestaus invited all the Gods of Olympus to laugh at the sight. Ares never forgave him, never forgot and the wrath he spewed on the world ever after, is another tale.