Zosime did not do reverence very well. She had a difficult time staying still, slowing down her hands and her mind to utter stillness. Especially now, as her sacrifice was made to the altar -- the squeal of a pup forever silenced. She could not flinch away from it, but that did not mean that she found any pleasure in offering a young life up to the warrior god. Necessary, She told herself, breathing out through her nose. It is necessary.. She supposed it was fitting to have a god of bloodshed demand blood, but she wondered why it was puppies that he desired. Why not a goat? Or something harder to kill, something that acted like a test or a trial?

See? She simply didn’t do reverence well, her mind prone to wandering and straying far from the task at hand. Her knee hurt where it pressed into the stone, and she felt the ache of her back as she leaned into her prayer harder. Bring me great favor in the war. Use me to show your will. Let me cut down your enemies as well as mine. She called quietly in her mind. She reached out in her head, her eyes scrunching together as she sought to feel something, anything from this place. Bring me home victorious, return me safely to my home.

After a few minutes, all she could truly muster, Zosime rose from her place. She gave the statue of Ares a final glance before turning her back on him. She always found the temples of the gods to be so empty, cold and dead inside. She found that she was much more likely to feel the spirit of Ares on the battlefield, when her blood was singing with effort. Those split seconds between life and death, when her muscles ached and her heart pounded. Fear and the will to live mingling together, an intoxicating combination.

A small smile quirked the corners of her mouth. She’d never been born to be content staying home, tending a husband and children. She could not ignore the call of war. The archer brushed her hair back over her shoulder, closing her eyes briefly as she descended from the temple. I’ll see you there...Ares.


@ares