Mars in Rome
By Lynn Obianwu
The moon reigned in the dark sky; its light poured through the clouds. Ares stood on the balcony of Mount Olympus. The wind caught his flowing red cape as he held his golden spear. Ares sighed, observing the mortals below him. Candles lit in tiny houses, and the clouds slowly moved above them. Then, the God of War focused on the twinkling stars illuminating the black sky. Ares gazed at the stars for a moment until he heard clicks of heels. The sound grew closer. His mother emerged from the shadows, dressed in her white toga. Her gold crown and peacock feather earrings complemented her elegance. The blond-haired goddess approached her son, intertwining her fingers behind her back. She leaned her shoulder against her son's.
"You should slumber," Hera muttered in his ear.
"Speak for yourself," he said. "Why aren't you in bed with Father?"
"Can't I check on my son?" Hera pressed sharply.
Ares turned to his mother, whose blue eyes shone in the twilight.
"Mother, I sense your anger. I understand. A thousand times already."
The chaos his father made over the centuries never ends. Ares understood the routine: his father mates with another and creates an offspring, whom she doesn't claim. It is an endless cycle, central to how things are on Mount Olympus. Luckily, Ares is her son, whom she and her husband claim by biological standards.
"And he ought to do it again. I will not give up till he does. Those half-blood mortals deserve punishment," Hera explained. "I'd kill them if I had the chance."
Ares grunted sharply, shaking his head.
He peered through the thick clouds at the pale yellow houses, built in a square. The God of War narrowed his eyes, glimpsing smoke rising into the air. He caught sight of a glowing orange light from a distance. Suddenly, a baby's cry pierced the air.
"What have you done?!" Ares exclaimed.
Out of thin air, he appeared on land; his eyes searched for the echoed cry amidst the trees towering over him. The crickets chirped in sync with the owl's hoot. Crunching noises came from Ares stepping on twigs as he walked through the woods.
Ares drew near to the shrieking cry. His eyes widened at the flames scorching the hay roof and the wooden sides of the house. The baby's cry echoed sharply.
Ares gripped his golden spear and lunged through the charcoal door. The acrid fumes wafted through his nose. He let out a harsh cough in response. Ares squinted as orange sparks came into his vision. The flames expanded, blackening the floors, walls, ceiling—everywhere.
"Ares!" cried Hera.
Sweat built in Ares' pores. He rushed through the room, his senses picking up on the babe's whine.
Ares lowered his eyes, catching the baby lying on a blanket. He saw the orange glow reflecting on the baby's pink, aureate brown complexion. The high-pitched cry pealed into Ares's ears once he discerned the baby's thudding heart. Near the boy, flames circled. They nipped away the blanket, inching close to him.
"Ares!"
Hera's yell penetrated the walls.
Ares shook his head, neglecting his mother's cry. He grabbed the boy from the ground and wrapped his red cape around him.
Ares dove out of the house, headfirst. His back collided against the soil. Immediately, the baby wailed.
“Ugh," Ares exhaled sharply.
He lifted his head, bending to see the baby on his armored chest. Ares's body levitated above ground. The baby scrunched his face with his little fists, clutching his cape. Ares's left hand loosened its grasp, and the golden spear landed on the ground. The orange flares illuminated the darkness.
Ares slowly planted his feet on the grass.
"Where are you?!" Hera shouted.
"Fuck," Ares grumbled under his breath.
His hand gripped the hem of his cape and wrapped his entire body, disappearing in a cloud of mist. Ares’s essence traveled through the branches of the trees. He then appeared on the ground. Ares stood near a cliff, where the moon's white glow reflected on the river.
He yanked the back of his red cape. Ares slowly encased the baby with the fabric.
"I got you," he whispered.
Ares bent his neck, leaning close to the baby. The boy cooed for a moment, squinting his tiny eyes. Ares rocked him, though it cried relentlessly.
"Little one.” He fluttered his eyes. "You're a fighter, aren't ya?"
A twig cracked.
Ares's head turned to a corner, witnessing Hera's glory. The moon twinkled in her sharp gaze.
"Have you gone mad?" she interjected.
"Have you?" Ares retorted. "Where is his mother?"
Hera clenched her teeth. "You dare question my morality?"
"Where is his mother? I won't ask again," he urged.
As the faint water swished harshly below, the wind wailed through the rustling trees. The air lay thick with silence, though the nocturnal critters evoked inhuman croaks and hoots.
Ares placed the baby on the ground. He rose, furrowing his brows. Out of a bright light, his golden spear appeared in his hand. Ares strapped it behind his back. He knelt and lifted the child into his arms.
"Ares, I will not fight you," Hera hissed. "Why don't you let that babe drown? Then, this pitiful fight will be over."
"Pitiful?" Ares scoffed. "Now, again. Where is his mother?"
"His mother is the owl," she confirmed. "That child should be crisped. Why save him?"
"You've done enough!" Ares cried out, stomping his foot down. "Your anger is valid, yet now I ask you to withhold it."
"Withhold my anger?" Hera widened her eyes, taken aback. "That child deserves to be killed!"
"Mother, mother.” Ares raised his hand, trying to calm her. "Must I repeat myself? Let me take care of him. Withhold your anger. I beg of you! This child doesn't deserve death."
Hera closed her eyes, scrunching her brows. The goddess tightened her fists as her fury simmered in her. Instead, she took a deep breath and exhaled.
"We shall not speak of this. The child has my mercy, yet that doesn't mean I claim him," Hera finally said. "Can you take care of him? Without his father knowing of this?"
Ares stayed silent, which Hera interpreted as "yes."
“When he is ten years of age, you must get rid of him."
Ares gulped at her words. He nodded, accepting her order.
Hera disappeared into a cloud of smoke, leaving Ares stranded. He kept the baby in his arms, never letting the boy go. Ares thought, 'Can I love this mortal, whom my father bore?'
"Mars," he called him, gently caressing his cheek. "You shall be Mars."
TEN YEARS LATER
Mars pointed a dagger at his father behind his neck. Ares leaped over him and kicked the back of his leg. Mars hit his whole body against the ground. However, his locs bounced as he rose again. He gripped his dagger and hunched his back. Mars bent his knees like a monkey when he circled Ares. He flung himself onto his father, yet Ares moved out of the way, resulting in Mars falling again. The prickly grass poked Mars' skin while he lay flat on the ground; leaves got stuck in the bushy areas of his hair. Ares grabs Mars' arm, pulling him off the ground.
The minute he stood upright, Mars pushed Ares away from him. Mars rubbed the specks of dirt off his threaded chiton. Afterward, he shook away the leaves from his hair.
"I almost had you!" he cried out, his hands tightening into fists.
"Lesson number one, boy. Don't forcefully attack your enemies. Observe them and attack," Ares declared. "The enemy could sneak up on you. So, you must always be watchful, son."
“This… this is not fun," Mars mumbled.
Ares pulled his son closer, wrapping his arms around him. His chin rested on Mars' head.
"War isn't fun. That's why I must teach you these things. And when the time comes, you'll understand."
During the day, the God of War traveled with his son to the marketplace where all of Rome gathered. Ares held his son's hand when they walked through the crowd. Mars squinted, shielding his eyes from the bright sun. Sweat built up on his forehead from the sun's heat on his skin.
Mars peers around, observing his surroundings. He turned his head to notice the column pillars holding the temple in place. On the stone steps, men in white togas mingled with one another.
Ares pulled Mars away from the temple as they arrived at a food stand. The merchant asked for a denarius coin. Ares nodded in response and quickly formed the coin out of thin air behind his back. He dropped the coin in the merchant's hand, and Ares and Mars accepted the purchased commodities.
The yellow light poured its brightness onto the sandy ground. Ares and Mars strolled toward a taberna, a single-room shop in the marketplace. Each had a wall of buildings intersected with identical wooden doors and some open doorways.
Ares and Mars encountered a man standing by the wide doorway of the storefront. The sun's rays hit the red mud bricks of the taberna, yet the bright yellow reflected on the light brown and pale yellow walls of the brick edifice.
"Do you have any bows and arrows?" Ares asked.
"Yes, but only two pairs. Most have sold out. Might I ask why?" the man wondered.
"I'm training my son," Ares replied, resting his hand on Mars's shoulder.
He chuckled, though Mars kept quiet.
The man walked back into the shop, returning with two arrows.
"Which arrow would you like to purchase? The dark one or the light one?" the man prompted.
Mars peers up at the light blue sky. His eyes darted to the clouds, then lowered to observe the murmurs amongst the crowd. He watched the people travel from storefront to storefront. Mars then gaped at the sandy ground. He glimpsed the shadow of a bird, its neck extended. Mars looked up, widening his eyes. He gasped at the dark blue, shiny bird standing on the red mud brick roof. Its tail expanded into a vast layer of feathers in murky green colors, including dark purple-blue spots.
"Papa, papa! Look at this, look at this!" Mars urged, tugging at Ares's red chiton.
"Not now, son," Ares brushed off.
"Papa, I'm serious! There's a peacock!" Mars shouted.
Ares spun his head in the direction Mars pointed at. There, Ares narrowed his eyes.
"There's no... bird," he said. "Son, you must be really hungry."
"No, no! I know what I saw!" Mars exclaimed.
"Are we all right, sirs?" the man asked.
"No worries," Ares said. "I'll pick the dark one."
They returned to the woods, prepared to do their tasks. Mars washed his clothes in the lake by submerging them. Ares watched him as he leaned against a tree.
"I... can't kill him," he muttered. "If that woman goes against her word—I swear, I'll..."
Ares shook his thoughts away.
Mars hung his clothes on a tree branch. Ares detaches from the tree and walked in his son's direction.
"Come on, let's train again," he commanded.
Mars looked up at him. "Wait, I don't want to fight!"
"No, no. We're not doing that, remember? You need to train your hands to hold a weapon," he confirmed. "And use it. So, grab your things."
Mars picks up the archery materials. Afterward, Ares and the boy traveled further into the grass field. They drew near the row of trees. Ares halted, urging Mars to follow suit.
Ares sighed deeply. "Do you know what I want you to do?"
"Hit that tree?" Mars blurted.
“No." Ares knelt, shifting his gaze to him. "I want you to use that bow and shoot the arrow into that tree. Can you do that?"
Mars shrugged. "I guess?"
“All right.” Ares nodded, rising to his feet. "Now, position your weapon."
Mars held onto the grip of the bow and attached the arrow to the firm bowstring. The arrow dropped, prompting Mars to grab it.
"Draw your elbow back," Ares demanded. "Keep it straight and focus on the target."
Mars emulated Ares' words by bending his elbow and positioning his bow in his grasp. Then, Ares clutched the boy's arm. Mars inhaled deeply as he stepped back and squinted his right eye.
"Shoot," Ares whispered in his ear.
Ares let go of Mars.
Mars flung the arrow, but it flew into the grass. He scrunched his forehead, striking the bow against his knee.
"No need to be upset," Ares said bluntly. "Now, try again."
A few tries would turn into five arrows wasted on the grass. The last shot, though, flung straight into the tree. Ares laughed at the boy's winning throw.
At dawn, Mars used an axe to chop wood. His hands formed a pool of sweat from lifting the axe. He dropped it and tried rubbing the sticks together. Mars failed, which led him to lend Ares the pieces of wood. Voila, the fire ignited.
As the food roasted in the fire, Ares used a stick to stab the crispy salmon fish. Mars grabbed the stick from him and took a bite of his food. Then, Ares chewed on a loaf of bread. They ate their dinner as the fire seethed through the piled wood. After that, Ares gazed at his son. Mars noticed his father's stare as he chewed his food.
"Papa, what is it?"
A sigh stemmed from Ares’ mouth. He closed his eyes for a moment until his eyes shot open. Ares gazed into his son's brown eyes. He stroked the wheat in his hands.
"I won't always be there for you, son."
Mats laughed to the point of throwing himself to the ground. Ares raised an eyebrow as he watched his son roll in the grass.
"This is serious, Mars."
Mars paused in Ares' glare. He gulped, listening closely to his father's words.
"My time here won't be long. And do you know why I train you?" Ares inquired.
Mars shook his head. "Wait, what do you mean? You'll always be here."
"Survival is important," Ares clarified. "If I revealed my true form, you’d turn to ashes. I come to you as a mortal to navigate you through this world."
"Papa, you could literally poof coins and do amazing things! Am I not correct?" Mars pointed out.
"But I can't make you rich because other gods, up there… will find out.” Ares pointed to the sky. ”And what would they do to you?"
"What?" Mars leaned forward.
Ares drew closer. "One of them might kill you. And with me as your father, you cannot be known."
"Why?" Mars asked, tilting his head. "Why must they kill me?"
“B-because… because you are special," Ares said, caressing his son's cheek.
"Do you do the same, Papa?" Mars asked. "Do you kill?"
Ares' eyes met the wheat in his fingers. Silence lingered. Mars said his name again.
"It depends, son. But it all comes down to the stranger. Not all gods are evil. Some are rather alone and stay out of notorious business."
The crickets’ chirp in the darkness began seeping in.
Mars rocked back and forth, hugging his knees. "When are we going to the Colosseum?"
“Not until you defeat me, boy," Ares declared.
Their infectious laughter bounced off each other.
Following that, the black sky crept in. The flames continued sparkling on the piles of wood. When the owl hooted, Ares carried a sleepy Mars into the wooden house—a square dwelling built of logs. He gently placed the boy's head on the pillow. Hence, Ares tucked the boy under the covers.
As Ares stepped out, Mars left one eye open. His eyes darted to the secluded room with every wall closing in on him. Mars pushed the covers off him, crouching down on the ground. He grabbed the arrow and strapped the bowstring onto his shoulder. Mars tiptoed to the door. Through the little holes, he peeked at Ares watching the fire flare up on the logs.
Mars let out a soft, quivering breath. He continued spying on Ares until he got up and turned his back. Mars creaked the door open slightly. He slid out and rushed to the back of the woods. Mars sprinted onto the grassy carpet, the cooling breeze flowing into his locs and skin.
Mars paused in his tracks in the nick of time. Thankfully, the moon emitted a glow that illuminated his vision. Spider webs were stuck between tree branches, and fireflies lit up the scenery.
Mars drew out his elbow and straightened his posture. Right at the bark of a tree, Mars flicked his arrow into the woody skin. He pumped his fist in the air in triumph.
"Hoot," the owl cried out.
Mars flinched at the sound. He gasped, seeing the animal resting on a tree branch. Its amber eyes watched him.
"For the love of the gods, leave me alone!" Mars exclaimed.
He shook his head, ignoring its call. Mars picked up another arrow on the ground and placed it near the grip of the bowstring. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. His fingers released the arrow. A sudden shriek alarmed him. Mars shot open his eyes. He quickly looked over his surroundings. His eyes squinted, observing the grass.
"Where's that dang arrow?" Mars mumbled.
His eyes widened. The arrow had pierced the owl’s white abdomen. Blood squirted out, running down its stomach.
"No, no, no," Mars' breath hitched. "You poor thing!"
He rushed to the wounded owl. Mars plucked the arrow out of its stomach. He cradled the little thing, which was squealing faintly.
"Mars! Where are you?" Ares shouted.
"No, no, no.” Mars cringed.
He placed the owl gently on the ground. Then, a bright glow lit up the animal. Mars backed away, pinning his body against the tree. The glow transformed the animal into a woman in a white toga. Her light bronze complexion returned to her. She lay there, bleeding out.
“What... what… what?" Mars stammered.
Mars rushed to her, holding her stomach. Mars pressed on the wound, which jerked the woman into a whine.
"Papa!" he cried out. "I need help!"
His hand was covered in blood. Between her bosom, he continued to hold onto her wound.
“Please! Please don't die on me!" Mars pleaded.
He looked closer at the woman. She fluttered her eyes at him, her warm touch now cold in his hands.
"No, no, no!" Mars shouted.
Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, a salty tingle in his eyes. The woman's gasp escaped her as she closed her eyes.
"Child,” a voice whispered.
Mars peered over his shoulder. There, Hera stood in her lovely blue toga with a light green scarf hooked on her chest and waist.
“Help... help!" His breath shuddered. “P... p… please help!"
Hera carried the portion of her gown as she approached the boy. When her hand rested on the woman's chest, she lowered her head.
"I'm sorry, dear one," she muttered.
Mars panted. “Wha... what...?"
Hera rested her hand on his shoulder.
"No, no, no.” He shook his head. “I... I didn't mean to!”
Her hand gripped his shoulder. Mars winced at the growing soreness of his body.
"Stop, stop, stop, please!" he cried out. "You're hurting me!"
A golden spear pierced through the air. It struck the bark of the tree. Hera snapped her focus to Ares, clenching his fist.
"I've watched you very closely. You are a good father, a great one. And my anger towards the child remains. And I expected much from you," Hera confessed. "Your father doesn't know. He only knows my lie—that you settled down somewhere."
Hera was met with a glare from the God of War.
"That doesn't change the fact that you want my son gone," Ares said, crossing his arms.
"He's your brother, after all," Hera told him.
“What?” Mars replied. “What… what?”
"No," Ares corrected. "He is my son!"
"Ares," she scoffed. "You should've let me kill him. If your father got involved, he would've made things much, much worse. Ares, I'm losing my patience with you. Now, the sin of your father must be demolished!"
"No!" he fired back. "I'm not here to start a war."
Hera squeezed Mars, causing him to wail out in pain.
"Mother, mother. Father has hurt you many, many times," Ares pleaded. "And I understand your anger. Killing my son… won't solve your problem. I know I failed."
"You failed your task. Now, the boy must suffer!"
Hera's eyes transformed into a glowing, bright yellow. She raised her hands, commanding fire out of thin air. The flames circled Mars.
"Mars!" he cried out.
Mars spun his head, finding where to go. The near touch of the flame stung his bare elbow. Ares furrowed his brow and grabbed Hera's wrist by force; she struggled out of his grip. Ares opened his mouth and blew away the flames with the wind. The fire slowly diminished.
An invisible field pushed Ares off of Hera. Mars turned around and grabbed the golden spear off the tree's bark. He struck Hera's stomach. Hera's eyes lowered at him; her eyes went from a sharp glare to a widened expression. Hera fell to the ground. Mars backed away in shock.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Why...?"
Ares drew closer to Mars. "You have to listen to me. I'm a fool for not telling you the truth. I am not your father. For you are my brother."
"What?" Mars dropped Ares' hands. "Stop lying!"
"This woman and I made a promise. She told me to kill you. But I didn’t… I couldn’t!" he confirmed. "I found you in Greece when you were just a babe. I gave up my status, I... gave up everything. I was just… afraid of telling you the full truth—of your origin."
"I killed a woman," Mars whimpered. “She's...s he’s... she's over there."
"Son," Ares uttered softly. He looked at the woman, lying there. Ares touched her neck, feeling the cold lack of a pulse.
"I wanted to throw arrows… and I accidentally shot an owl. Then, the owl turned into that woman!" Mars blurted out.
Hera grunted, rising. She removed the golden spear from her stomach.
Ares knelt to Mars' level. He grasped onto his arm.
"Son," Ares let out hoarsely. “This... this… this is not your fault."
Mars hit his chest. "No, this can't be my mother! It can't!"
"I'm afraid so, child," Hera acknowledged. "If your real father did not impregnate your mother, she wouldn't have been an owl. Nor would this whole situation have happened." Hera groaned slightly at the pain.
"What do you want, woman?" Ares pressed. "Leave now."
“No." Hera shook her head.
Ares rose on the ground, grasping his spear. He lunged at her stomach, pinning her against the tree.
"If you try to kill me, your father will kill you both," Hera confessed. "He will find out, sooner or later."
"When he's of age, I will leave him," Ares whispered. "I'm training him now to defend himself. He'll be useful, Mother."
Ares released his spear from Hera's abdomen.
A blue glow from her wound. As it disappeared, Hera pondered her son's words. She stepped closer to him. Hera gave him one last glare, and then she vanished in gray smoke.
At sunrise, the clouds shifted through the pale blue sky. Ares and Mars stood before the rock burial of the woman. They stayed silent for an extended time. Mars felt the cool breeze against the hairs on his skin.
"I wish I knew her," he mumbled. "It was my fault."
"It was not," Ares pressed softly. "None of this was your fault. Throughout all of my time, raising you, my mother didn't lay a finger on you. What goodness came out of this was living in Rome with you. Yes, the gods can travel to various places. Yet, the pantheon resides on Mount Olympus. Greece."
“Would... would we live in Greece someday? Or is it too dangerous?" Mars wondered.
"I don't know.” Ares shrugged. "Do you want to go see the gladiators? Come on, you should take your mind off this."
Mars shook his head.
“All right.” Ares pecked his forehead.
Mars watched him walk away. He looked at his mother's burial site until he shifted his gaze to Ares. Mars sprinted in his direction. He leapt off the grass and latched onto his father's back with a dagger. Mars tackled him down, with Ares's face falling flat on the ground. A laugh came out of them both.
"That means yes?" Ares noted.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Mars nodded.
On the way to the Colosseum, Mars ran on the solid, sandy stairs. He looked to find a seat on the wooden benches, where his brown sandals jostled the ground. They were at the Maenianum Summum, where the poor sat on the upper level. Ares followed Mars while shielding himself in a navy-blue cloak. The sun blazed on Mars' skin, and his forehead dripped with sweat.
He saw all the men swarming below him. The senators paraded to the Ima Cavea and sat together. The Cavea was reserved only for the senators, who were the governing body of Rome and high-class citizens of noble attributes.
Every citizen of Rome waited patiently for the Emperor to sit in his Imperial Box. As he oversaw the audience, he announced the competitors and then watched the bloodshed that the gladiators brought to entertain the people. Ares and Mars shouted with the crowd.