The God and the First Dragonborn pt. 1
Even with his full armor on, Ares stared intently at the man standing amid the flames; with a simple sweep of the greatsword in his hand, as black as darkness itself, the flames seemed to move aside around him. Ares could recognize him easily, even if he was now completely armored.
A violet smile settled on his mouth; he seemed to remember the day he had been sent flying repeatedly.
"So it's you… the vagabond" Ares said, while the flames around him rose slightly, finally having the right person in front of him to vent his anger.
Miraak looked at him with such coldness and calm that it only fueled even more rage on Ares's face. A reddish aura, made of pure violence, poured out of his body.
"You're that famous teacher of the brat, son of Uncle Seaweed, huh?" Ares said, taking a couple of steps forward. Each step made the sand vibrate beneath his feet; his presence increased the aggressiveness of the environment.
Even Percy, Annabeth, and Grover felt a suffocating pain squeezing their necks, holding their heads in discomfort.
"Calm" Miraak murmured lightly. His spell flew toward the three of them, now standing side by side thanks to a quick telekinetic movement that placed them in a spot where they would not end up being gutted by the battle about to begin.
Ares observed this strange magic with slight interest as he seemed to study the clothes Miraak was wearing.
He had an armor of ancient style, which looked like hardened leather, and his helmet with two horns made Ares stare at him intently.
"What do you have to do with the Norse pantheon?" he asked with a frown, as if he had smelled something unpleasant; his face showed genuine annoyance, since the worst thing that could happen at that moment would be generating friction with another pantheon.
"Does that matter?" Miraak asked, looking at him calmly. His warrior aura, pure intent of battle, burst toward Ares. Upon feeling it, Ares smiled even more excited.
"Not at all" Ares said; at that moment the sword he was holding disappeared, while a spear seemed to emerge from the ground as if responding to his call. Ares took it without hesitation and, without warning, struck the ground.
A shockwave exploded, lifting sand in its path and preparing the battlefield.
This shook the leather of Miraak's armor slightly, though he remained there, unmoving, as if it were only a small gust of wind. His position still protected Percy and his companions; they, after feeling the calm of Miraak's spell, now covered their faces from the sand lifted by Ares's strike.
"Killing you will be much more fun while your student watches you gutted on the ground; I will break his pride even more" Ares said with disdain. Even so, he seemed to take this battle more seriously than the one he had with Percy, since he could feel Miraak's warrior aura; but his face maintained that implicit contempt toward him.
Miraak looked at him as a slight smile appeared on his mouth; just as disdainful as Ares's own. Unlike the god, Miraak had no interest in playing with his enemies or allowing them the possibility of becoming stronger in the future. He had already made that mistake in the past… and it had cost him dearly.
"Come on, let's see what a…"
Before Ares could continue saying his annoying words, Miraak inhaled lightly and shouted:
"GOL HAH DOV"
The impact struck the god of war directly, who for a moment opened his eyes in surprise upon feeling something attempting to control his will. He quickly shook his head with a mocking expression, as if such a thing had no chance of working.
Until he saw that Miraak had already appeared right in front of him, with that black sword in his hands. An ascending slash tore through the air; it was so fast that the sand where Ares had been standing was still floating in the air, forming a small whirlwind.
Ares observed the sword for an instant, realizing it was very similar to the one Percy had; the same one that had injured him earlier.
He moved to the side to avoid it, though that seemed to hurt his pride slightly.
With a quick flick of his wrist, the spear passed behind his back to aim directly at Miraak's head; red flames adorned its tip.
Miraak released the greatsword, allowing inertia to halt it in the air, and used the guard on his wrists to deflect the spear upward with a single hand. With the other, he threw a punch straight into Ares's stomach, while the spear expelled an enormous amount of fire upward, releasing a smell of burnt corpses that proved this was not normal fire.
A dry impact echoed, as if metal clashed with metal. Ares looked down with mockery; Miraak's blow had struck his bulletproof vest, which was actually his shield transformed.
But Miraak's attack was not over.
He spun around, grabbing the greatsword that was still floating in the air. With a twist, the sword appeared pointing toward Ares's neck.
Ares moved his head to the side, easily dodging the slash, while his spear moved back to aim now at Miraak's stomach.
"FUS RO DAH"
Ares recognized that shout immediately; the same one that had previously sent him flying against a mountain. He felt again how his body was launched backward.
But unlike before, when he had flown kilometers in an instant, this time he controlled his body and his power quickly; he was only pushed a few meters before falling, and his feet dragged just enough to leave deep grooves in the sand.
Ares put on an arrogant, disdainful smile again as he looked toward Miraak.
"Now that you're not attacking by surprise, it seems that little noise of yours isn't that powerful" he said, deliberately downplaying the power of the Voice.
Miraak, however, remained as calm as at the beginning. All those exchanges, from both sides, had been nothing but a test. Neither had used their real power; it was as if they were probing each other's limits. Even so, both knew they had far more to give.
And although the balance seemed even, there was a clear contrast.
Ares dominated brute force; each one of his attacks was destructive and, with a single careless hit, he could kill even Miraak.
But Miraak had absolute mastery over space. He released his sword momentarily to attack and defend, and recovered it seconds later as if it were part of his own body. Only a warrior with centuries of experience could do that… and far more when facing a god like the god of war.
Although being the god of war did not mean being the best fighter on Olympus, it did grant him quite a reputation and significant power in combat.
Meanwhile, Percy, eyes full of emotion, watched the battle. For Grover and Annabeth, those had been nothing but flashes, like lightning crossing the air, before Miraak and Ares separated again. The confrontation had lasted barely a few seconds; even so, the stirred sand, the wind moving their hair, and the smell of burnt ozone reached them instantly.
"Did you… see anything?" Annabeth asked, with a frightened look as she felt the two auras clashing. And although Ares and Miraak were motionless now, they both seemed to have collided with a force impossible to follow with human eyes.
"Not at all" Percy said; even so, he was genuinely excited to see his master facing a god… and doing it for him.
Grover, with his nerves on edge, could barely think. His gaze was fixed on the god of war and the man who seemed to stand against him. As a satyr, he had heard every story about the gods, and as a follower of Pan, he knew that facing a god was absolute madness. Impossible.
Many beings had tried it throughout history… and all had ended badly.
But now he was witnessing what he always believed was just a legend; a simple mortal, or something like it, standing against a god.
The three of them snapped their mouths shut when a massive amount of fire began to surround Ares. The fire of war.
It did not burn with heat, but with divine violence. His spear boiled with red energy, and staring directly at its tip produced fleeting visions of death: people falling, battlefields where no one survived, endless blood and destruction. Even breathing became difficult; each inhale felt heavy, loaded with violence and ancient magic.
Meanwhile, around Miraak an aura of pure darkness suddenly appeared, like living ink stirring. Within it they could see words, runes, fragments of unknown languages floating and distorting, as if all the knowledge devoured in Apocrypha manifested there. Some black tentacles began forming around him, undulating like breathing shadows.
The two of them lifted their gaze at the same time.
"I do not fear a god… I have already killed beings who called themselves gods before." Miraak said, looking at Ares fixedly with an arrogance no god had ever heard come from anyone who stood against them. "You are an obstacle… nothing more."
Upon hearing that last part, Ares's eyes now burned with even more intensity. "Oh yeah?" Ares said while preparing his spear for the next attack. "When I'm done with you, not even your helmet will hide what's left of you."
It seemed that, now yes, they were prepared for the second round.