GODSWAR: The Mask of Ares, Chapter 3

For every set of heroes, we need a villain...

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Chapter 3.

"I will be meditating in my chambers," Ares said to Phobos. "Please, no interruptions unless it is a matter of life and death."

Or it will surely become one, he thought as Phobos bowed deeply to him.

Ares – or, now that he was in private, he who had taken Ares for himself – barred the door, both with physical bolts and a touch of godspower. Even the new Deimos and Phobos knew very little about what he did when he was "meditating." They were, of course, aware that he was in no way the true Ares, but they neither knew nor, in truth, wanted to know exactly what he was or what his goals were.

Demons, after all, needed few explanations to assist in corruption and destruction.

But he … ahh, he had far more important goals than the mere breaking of the Aegeian Cycles, than the ultimate death of the Lady of Wisdom, Athena, and the rest of her little pantheon. This was, truth be told, more a… proof of concept, a demonstration. If it succeeded – and success was now very, very near, a scant year or three at the outside – everything he had hoped for would be his.

With great difficulty he fought down the smile of hunger and joy, the anticipation. Do not be the child who turns to run with the ball before it has been caught! Failure here would be disastrous. Yes, success seemed perilously near, but he had staked everything on this project.

He would be very wise to remember that when speaking with the one who held judgment in his hands.

Emotions held in check now, face calm and composed, he sat at the great desk and took up the scroll from its hidden compartment – the golden scroll that opened to a mirror-finish and slotted so neatly into the space before him. "I am here," he said to his reflection.

A moment only, and the reflection rippled, darkened, became a window into a very different room, a dimly-lit space from which another face – open, cheerful, blond of hair and blue of eye – smiled at him.

"Ahhh," said the other. "Punctual as always, Raiagamor."

"I strive to please my… forebear."

"Take a care," said the other, still smiling. "My acceptance of our kinship is still undecided – as you must well know."

"With all respect, Majesty, there is no denying you are my forebear in some manner. All that I seek is to prove my worthiness to stand with the Elders, for all that I number so many fewer years."

The smile curled, acknowledging, perhaps, a small point. "True, and an ambitious claim it is."

"Yet you have already found… some inspiration, some intriguing new thoughts, in my own invention of the moment, have you not, Majesty?"

A laugh both warm and chilling. "True, true! My current plan draws quite some inspiration from yours. But of that we have spoken enough. You were granted my aid thrice, once for each of the pleas your mother spoke on your behalf. You were pleased, I take it, with the first?"

"Your reading of the Cards was… most useful, yes, Majesty," Raiagamor-Ares said, bowing his head. "I was, I believe, able to address the… weakness it described, and also use that approach to solidify my hold in other ways."

"Excellent. I am always pleased when my services are appreciated. So you have called upon me a second time; what service do you require of me?"

"If Your Majesty would be so kind, I would query the Cards another time."

"Indeed? A bold course you chart, child. The Cards always speak true, yes… but when queried in succession they seek, more and more, to mislead the querent." The smile glittered with amused malice. "They were, after all, meant to serve a rather different hand than mine."

"I would hope that their memory might fade in ten years, enough that I might chance another question or three."

"They may, they may well. And you are, after all, on a schedule that does not allow you the luxury of waiting a century between moves."

His King produced – from whence, Raiagamor could not say – a deck of ancient cards, made for one with large hands indeed, four inches across and seven or so long; the ivory sides of the deck were just slightly touched with yellow, but otherwise the Cards were pristine. Their backs showed an intricate pattern in deep blue and gold, a pattern that made Raiagamor uncomfortable to view; he noticed that even his King did not gaze long at it. "Then ask. Up to three, you understand, as you have spoken, and as no more than three would be safe even for me."

"Understood." He waited until the King had placed the cards before him in the proper way. "Then I would ask … other than the opponents I already know, are there others I must deal with if I am to triumph?"

"An excellent question." The deceptively-human hands reached out, shuffled the cards without effort, cut them, shuffled again, and then dealt out a querent's diamond – four cards surrounding a central one.

The faces of the Cards, as always, were obscured to him; either the Cards refused to allow any but their user to view them clearly or – far more likely – his Majesty had no intention of allowing him to learn anything more of this most potent tool.

"And … a most interesting answer. There is another obstacle," he touched the central card, "as clearly indicated by the Barred Door. Between you and your goal," he flipped over the card above the central card, "is a courageous woman, as indicated by the Sword-Maiden. One who is touched by true Power of one sort or another, as shown by," another card turned, to the right hand, "the Phoenix In Flight. Most interesting."

His hand moved down, flicked over the third card around the perimeter. "A woman of great knowledge, or perhaps talent and skill, as shown by the Scroll and Pen." He flipped the last card. "And what is this? How very intriguing. Your opponent is also one who knows not her own power, as represented by the Blind Monk."

     That was a surprising array of indicators… but one should always be cautious about alternatives. "Do all of these cards refer to the same person?"

The King smiled. "Yes; that requires no other reading."

A courageous woman; that was obvious. No one seeking to oppose him in any guise would be anything else. But the Sword-Maiden also indicated one not merely courageous but themselves a warrior at heart. Still unremarkable, taken by itself. But touched by true Power, now, that was more rare. Added to that, great knowledge or skill and, at the same time one who did not know their own power…

Perhaps someone young, then, who has learned much in study or training, but not yet achieved full awareness of themselves… or perhaps had that knowledge withheld from them…

No. It could not…

He forced that thought to die unfinished. Believing something could not be, simply because you thought it shouldn't be? That was the way to ruin. But oh, if it was true, oh, the blood that would run…

"My second question, then, my King: this individual… is she the same girl-child that was indicated by the earlier readings?"

That was a simple question, and a single card was turned. "The Rising Sun says yes."

He let out a hiss and felt his form waver from that of Ares, knew his eyes glowed inhumanly for a moment. "It seems there are those who will need severe reprimands in the ranks," he murmured, smiling at the thought while feeling his anger blazing.

But control, control! He must restrain himself. The prize he sought, the right to call the King by a very different title, that would come not merely from success but from control in all things. The King valued little more highly than perfect control.

"…but that is an internal matter," he finished, once more Ares in perfection. "All I need ask, then, is where is she? How might I find her, that she be removed?"

"But of course, the natural question." The King once more shuffled the Cards and went to turn one over… then hesitated. "Curious. The Cards refuse."

"They will not answer the question?" Raiagamor was stunned. He knew the peril of the Cards, but he had never heard, even in rumor, that they had failed to answer.

"Hmmm. No. No, they will answer… Oh, I see." He extended his hand towards Raiagamor, and his hand emerged from the scroll, holding the Cards before the false Ares' startled eyes. "The answer lies within the Card you select, it appears."

At this range, the power of the Cards smote his senses with threat and promise so intense it was both drug and warning of danger. Now I know why even the King is wary of them. He reached out cautiously, using his own senses to try and grasp the currents of fate that wove about the Cards.

Without volition, his hand dipped down, plucked a card from the bottom third of the deck, and placed it face-up before him.

He recoiled for a moment, for gazing directly into his were the gray-green eyes of Athena – a sight he had no intention of allowing to come to pass in life. He relaxed the slightest fraction as the card shifted and the eyes, too, shifted, no longer directly focused on him. "Athena?"

The King had risen and was peering through the scroll. "Is that what you see? Of course, it would make sense."

"What do you see, then, my King?"

"I see the Card of the Flying Arrows. In this context, it means your target is in motion, traveling or about to travel far. There is no one location that can be given."

Now that he concentrated, he could sense … a connection. The concept of Athena resonated with his questions. Naturally; the Cycle demanded Athena's God-Warriors, and eventually the Incarnate Goddess herself. And between that thought, that concept, and the unknown girl or woman was some connection – a nascent God-Warrior? The Incarnate Form herself? Or even a priest, questing for either or both?

The Cards always answered truly – though they would seek to deceive, as the King warned. So this Card would tell him how to find…

He smiled. "Majesty, is it permitted that I cast a spell using this Card?"

"I believe that is, in fact, part of the Cards' answer to you, so yes; in this case you may."

He took forth a handful of coins – full golden Shields of Aegeia – and placed them on the mystical plaque. Then he called up both magic and godspower and gazed upon the Card, saw the connection, the resonance between the Card and the Concepts and the World itself. He caught up that resonance, that connection between the concept and the subject, and impressed it on the coins, pouring magic and the power of Ares into that connection until each and every Coin vibrated with the precise same resonance, sang with the same connection to some distant, unseen person.

With a swift gesture, he completed the enchantment, tying off the threads of magic and destiny so that the Coins themselves were linked to the target – to the woman who stood between him and the completion of his great work.

The King's fingers plucked the Card from beneath the Coins. "Well, that was entertaining. I hope you will find these answers… profitable. Feel free to call upon me – once more."

The scroll went blank, but there was no need for pleasantries between them. He knew that unless he succeeded, his forebear would not acknowledge him. But this – this was enough.

Traveling and never in one place, was she? Well, these Coins would guide his forces. They would close upon her and capture her, no matter where she was. Perhaps they should kill her upon … but no. They had failed to kill her before. He would not trust others to do the deed at a distance. Capture her, bring her somewhere he could see, and then have her killed.

In honesty, he would have preferred to do it himself, but he could not spare the time. Ares' presence was necessary now. The plan was in motion.

He gestured to the door, which opened. "Deimos," he called. "Phobos. Come. I have a task for you…"