Hermes cleared his throat, stepping forward. “I am Hermes, the Greek messenger god, as well as the god of travel, trades, thievery, language…”
“I am talking about what we mean to her,” Hera scolded in her lovely accent. Turning to Elle, Hera now seemed apologetic. “We are your godparents, Evangeline,” she continued, beaming.
Hermes snickered. “Oh, that’s what you were referring to.”
“Ah…so…that’s why you’re being nice to me…” Elle said, feeling somewhat let down.
Hera gently shook her golden blonde head. She lifted a delicate brow to watch Elle carefully. “No. I am not kind to individuals solely when they hold a relation or share a connection with me. I treat others with respect when they show they are capable of providing it as well.”
“Read some of those old mythology books or even the books by young-adult novelists, Step Mommy. You don’t come off so nice,” Hermes grunted, causing Hera to cast him a cold look that immediately silenced the young-looking god.
“I do apologize for not revealing our relation sooner,” Hera continued, ignoring Hermes. “There had not seemed to be a proper time for this reveal.”
“My…god parents?” Elle asked, squinting as she took in the queen of the Gods and the goofball god of travel. “Really?”
“Indeed.” Hera smiled wistfully. “Your mother and I remain very good friends even in this millennia. Pele also took somewhat of a liking to Hermes back in the day; therefore that is why he is your godfather, unfortunately…”
Elle mentally noted Hera did not seem to find Hermes a suitable godparent in the slightest. Hermes, in contrast, beamed. “I remember the day I was first allowed to babysit you and I introduced you to the Godfather series. You didn’t cry while watching, and you were just two years old!”
Elle stared at the young man, wondering who on earth would allow a toddler to watch such a violent movie series. His comment caused Hera to pinch the bridge of her nose in a tired fashion. “I suppose you should remain thankful at least fifty percent of godparents are mature,” she said to Elle, with only a slight touch of judgment toward Hermes.
Elle tried not to dwell over the fact a couple thousand-year-old former members of mythology were her godparents. There were far more pressing issues at hand. She started to grow fearful something was about to go down as Hera motioned for her to pull on her gloves. Elle set down her spear to begin pulling them on.
Seeming to notice Elle’s terrified expression, Hera’s face softened. “Not to worry, Evangeline. You are protected for being the woman of Winter’s prophecy—no death shall come from this training session.” She nodded, gracefully bowing her head before taking off.
One minute she was walking away, the next, Elle found Hera was up on top of a balcony area that seemed to be a VIP section for certain gods. Zeus greeted his wife with a kiss before she sat beside him on a golden throne similar to his. Hera gave Elle a delicate wave of her hand. “You’ll do well,” Hera reassured her quietly. Even though she spoke in a breath of a whisper across the arena, the goddess intended for only Elle to hear her.
Zeus and Hera were surrounded by many others in the large area overlooking the arena. King Boreas was here with Queen Oritya. The other brother Calais was here, as well as Khione. Apollo was on top of the balcony smiling at Elle. She didn’t return it. Her eyes were too busy raking over all the spectators getting ready to watch this training session.
Someone Elle recognized from the ball was here with his wife. Poseidon looked full of powerful authority while also sickly resembling an Abercrombie model in his thirties. His crown was not golden like his brother Zeus’s. His was a mighty silver that looked as though it was made to be sea-inspired with a deep green entwining around the tall crown. He was probably here with his wife to watch how his daughters-in-law did in the training.
To Elle’s almighty disgust, Voluptas was here as well. She was wearing yet another revealing dress as she stood beside an icicle-themed throne that held Jack Frost.
Elle hadn’t realized Jack would be here. He was dressed in his typical navy outfit that made Elle wonder if the guy had a closet full of the same attire.
Voluptas was whispering in Jack’s ear as her small hand kept rubbing his muscled shoulder.
There was no forgiveness in the daughter of Cupid. Elle remembered quite well how Voluptas lied in order to have Zeus punish her. If Ajax’s nymph was to suddenly start eating Voluptas with her sharp fangs, Elle sadly realized she wouldn’t lose too much sleep over it. She couldn’t help but glare at both her fiancé and Voluptas, disgusted that she was being forced to participate in such a stupid event while Voluptas got to flirt with Jack and schmooze with the other gods. It wasn’t fair. If she wanted to be with Jack Frost, she should have to be in the arena, not Elle!
Hermes’ hazel eyes drifted to where Elle was staring as he spared her yet another sympathetic back pat. “Save the anger for the battlefield, Tiger.”
“If she wants him so much, why can’t he just marry her?” Elle asked through clenched teeth.
Hermes didn’t answer, so Elle looked around to see where he was. She whirled around in wonder to find the god had disappeared. He was no longer beside her. Glancing around, no other guy was still inside the arena conversing with the women. Right here and now, the sparring session looked ready to commence. Elle grew quite alarmed realizing she wasn’t even taught how to wield her stupid spear before it was time to fight. Hermes was waving excitedly from the stands, holding a giant letter E on a large piece of parchment attached to a stick.
“You got this, Elle!”
“Got what?” Elle muttered to herself, finding Hermes’ cheerful disposition somewhat annoying.
“Ladies,” a new voice boomed. A tall, dark-haired man who had a hard face lined with scars was now based in the center of the arena. He appeared out of thin air.
Even though there were at least two large scars that were well-defined on the man where one cut at his chin and the other his forehead, it really did nothing to mar the man’s rugged handsomeness. Elle nearly rolled her eyes at the mental realization that nearly every god and goddess here was gifted with good looks. She had yet to see an ugly one.
This man was no exception. His jet-black hair was attractive even in a messy display, and the man was dressed in a silver body armor that had a blood-red cape flowing behind him. Elle thought he looked as though he would be the perfect fit as a poster boy for a Greek empire movie.
The man looked at all the women almost as if he were mentally calculating whether or not he could take them in a fight. Elle felt he could probably take them all with his eyes closed. He looked just that prepared for a fight as well as talented with the sword he was wielding.
Elle mentally placed a bet the new arrival was Ares, god of war. Even though she had never seen him before, she felt strongly she was right. He looked too full of authority and anger. The dark-haired man looked around the arena, surveying all the women. “I am Ares, God of War!”
“Called it,” Elle muttered to herself in a breath of a whisper.
“Ladies and nymphs, we have a new betrothed who will be coming to join us in battle mid-semester,” Ares explained loudly. “The demigoddess bride of Winter,” he said, with a small nod towards Elle.
Elle found she really wished he hadn’t done that. Too many women were suddenly looking at her like a meal. Zetes’ wives looked to want to wring her neck, while Hercules’ wives glared heavily. Triton’s wives were oblivious to her, but Ajax’s nymph started to bare her fangs in Elle’s direction in a hungry fashion.
“I’m not getting a good vibe from this…” Elle muttered to herself, feeling rather nervous. There were far too many harsh looks being thrown her way.
“You know the drill for new arrivals,” Ares continued loudly, his voice enhanced to echo around the arena. “You take your place in front of Lord Zeus and Queen Hera and exclaim who it is you are fighting for. After that, you go back to your individual positions. Remember—t
his is not a fight to the death. That shall occur in later sessions. Same rules apply as always. No killing. No throat slitting. Stay away from major arteries, and if you hold any magical abilities, they are able to be used as long as they do not kill another individual. Maiming, however, is allowed. So are tag-teams. In no particular order, the wives of Hercules!”
Elle gaped at the man, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. He had to be. Maiming?
It was only as Elle watched a rather fierce-looking wife of Hercules bury her sword into the sand did she feel Ares was actually serious. These women would be using weapons to fight each other. Based on the many people who stared at Elle with distaste, she didn’t have a good feeling about this at all. Her armor felt extremely heavy. Elle wasn’t sure whether her stomach was dropping out of fear or the weight of the body armor was just weighing her down.
“Aritya Scalilo, I fight for Hercules,” the blonde woman called, bowing in Zeus and Hera’s direction. In her place came a dark-haired wife of Hercules who went through the same motion. Every one of Hercules’ wives revealed their names and who it was they were fighting for before Triton’s wives came up.
Elle could see yet another was a nymph with mint green skin. She couldn’t see this about the woman earlier given their distance. “Polaris, I fight for Triton, prince of the seven seas.” The nymph smiled wryly. She saw Elle watching her, so she kindly gave a small wave and a light smile as she made her way back to the group she came from. Triton’s two other wives were the same when they spoke their names, said who they were fighting for, and then smiled at Elle.
Elle didn’t quite know how to take that. As the mint-skinned one was the closest of Triton’s wives, Elle ignored the rest of the introductions in order to ask.
“I’m sorry if this sounds weird, but why are you guys the only ones who don’t look like you want to hurt me?”
The nymph turned to face Elle. She smiled before a rather annoying howl of a sound exited her mouth, causing Elle to cover her ears with both hands. The woman’s words were unintelligible shrieks.
By the time it was Elle’s turn to stand before the gods and reveal her name and the husband she was fighting for, she didn’t want to say anything. Jack Frost wasn’t worth fighting over in her opinion. If Voluptas wanted him so bad, she could have him.
“Say your name,” said Ares, sounding annoyed Elle hadn’t picked this up from watching the others.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled. “Elle Darrow.” A few seconds went by, as Elle didn’t feel like saying the name of her betrothed. Her dark head slowly dipped down to stare at the ground beneath her feet.
“Do you not know the name of your fiancé?” Ares asked rudely, clearly growing impatient.
“I fight for myself,” Elle said in a level voice, causing Boreas to suddenly smack his scepter down loudly.
“DO YOU WISH TO GO BACK TO CONFINEMENT?”
Elle took another deep breath as she kept her eyes locked on the sandy ground of the arena. She did not want that, but she also did not wish to say she was fighting for a man she hated.
“I will not fight for a man who doesn’t respect me,” said Elle through gritted teeth. Boreas looked outraged. Oritya glared. Khione placed her head in her hands while Calais suddenly looked at Elle, intrigued.
These were the wrong words to declare. Elle was suddenly slapped across the face with force strong enough to send her sprawling to the ground. With a gasp of pain, she realized Ares had struck her. Elle’s lip stung as her full bottom lip had burst open from the hit.
Just as soon as Elle’s body had hit the ground, a large ball of ice had simultaneously struck Ares to the face, easily breaking a nose. The immortal’s head swiveled upon impact as a low snarl escaped his throat. He straightened his nose with his own hand with limited noise from putting it back into place.
Elle did not see who threw the ball of ice in retaliation for Ares’ cruelty. Her best guess was Boreas or Calais given their angry postures directed toward Ares. It surely wasn’t an action committed by her fiancé. Jack Frost was now fully engaged in what was going on, but he watched Elle on the hard ground with not a piece of care.
“Say your fiancé’s name. Otherwise you will wish you had,” Ares said through gritted teeth.
Knowing she did not wish to be hit again, Elle sucked up her pride. “His name is Jack Frost,” she muttered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.
“Now,” Ares said, ignoring how quiet Elle spoke, “everyone take to their positions!”
Elle quickly walked back to where she started, growing nervous as she noticed from the corner of her eye Jack’s gaze was on her intently. She hurried back to her spot, wiping the blood dribbling down her chin. Elle was growing alarmed by a mint-green skinned woman who was talking to her in a garbled tongue. The woman was smiling happily but shrieking horrid noises that hurt Elle’s ears.
“I’m sorry…I can’t understand you.”
“She cannot speak anything while on land, Elle,” another voice laughed lightly. “She’s a sea nymph. The only time a non-merfolk can understand her is when she’s underwater.”
Elle saw Apollo was the one who answered her. Instead of staying in the strange VIP section where major gods were, he stood in a random spot of the arena close by. Elle frowned as the other women who were Triton’s wife and fiancée started shrieking as well. They looked like they were trying to be nice, but Elle couldn’t figure out what it was they were saying. She now realized they were all nymphs, but only one of them had mint green skin. The two others looked completely human. It was only listening to their sounds did Elle realize that wasn’t the case.
“Why don’t they look as mean as the other wives?” Elle asked, ignoring her current bitterness toward the sun god.
“Because they aren’t threatened by your status,” Apollo answered mildly. “You’re to be the everlasting Queen of Winter’s throne someday. The wives of Hercules, Zetes, and Ajax can’t say they’ll ever reach the status of a queen. Triton’s wives aren’t threatened by you because you’re in the same proverbial boat as they are. One of them will be his Queen while the others will be his seconds. They’ll all get the status of royalty; therefore, they’re not threatened by another royal.”
With that, one nymph with the mint green skin danced forward before engulfing Elle in a hug. She squealed happily before patting her on the head affectionately.
“WATCH OUT!” Apollo shouted.
His words were a second too late. Someone had come from directly behind the lovely nymph to run their sword over her wrist atop of Elle’s head.
The nymph screamed in horror as her hand flopped to the ground in an ugly heap. Elle screamed as well. She couldn’t tell who the woman aiming the sword was going for, her or the nymph.
That’s when it became obvious to her that the sparring session had commenced. Women all over the arena were roughly fighting. Elle was suddenly feeling that saying this was merely a beginners’ class wasn’t very truthful. The women were all fighting one another, taking no mercy even though these were their classmates. Swords and daggers were flying, as well as blood and limbs. One of Hercules’ wives cruelly kicked a woman in the groin before whipping her on the back of the head with the blunt part of her sword. Another ripped the hair from a woman before roughly head butting her.
It was a gory and graphic fight.
“Don’t worry!” Apollo shouted. “The limbs will be reattached at the end of the session, Elle!”
Elle gaped at him. “You say that like it’s supposed to be comforting!” she shrieked in response, diving out of the path of a woman wielding a dagger.
Another woman lost some fingers to a sword nearby. Her horrified screams echoing around the arena were cringe worthy. Elle couldn’t pay attention to others fighting; she was at war. It had been one of Zetes’ wives who had cut the hand off of the nymph. As the tall woman chased after Elle swinging her sword toward her limbs in a bid to cut one of them off, Elle realized the maiming
of the nymph was purely accidental. Zetes’ wives only had one specific target in mind—Elle.
“Unfair advantage!” Elle shrieked, somersaulting away as another wife started running toward her with a spear. This wasn’t fair. Elle had been thrown into the arena a baby fighter while all the other women here were obviously far more used to their weapons. But Elle didn’t have time to dwell over her disadvantage. Too many women wanted to hurt her.
Thinking fast, Elle kicked an approaching woman roughly in the leg, causing her to go down.
A crack had sounded as the woman hit the ground, leading Elle to believe she unintentionally caused the woman to break her ankle. Her brown eyes winced heavily as the woman howled in pain. “I am so, so, sorry…”
“Let us see how Winter’s kingdom likes having their future Queen with no hands or feet on her first training session!” another woman Elle recognized from breakfast that morning growled vehemently. Another wife of Zetes. She lunged for Elle, but she was terrible with her bow staff. Her attempt to whack Elle was too slow. Elle managed to grab ahold of it before kicking the woman to the shin.
“I take it back,” Elle muttered, taking the staff to roughly hit the woman over the head. “I’m not sorry!”
“Get a sword, Elle! A sword!” Apollo bellowed, attempting to be heard over all the men shouting at their wives from the stands. Elle couldn’t help but feel this reminded her of high school with the crazed football coaches screaming at the varsity players. She was on the sidelines as a cheerleader back then, but she remembered she and her cheer squad could hear the growling coaches better than anyone on game days.
The only men who didn’t seem to care about this ugly, bloody fight were Ajax and Jack Frost. Ajax sat idly in the arena stands, playing around with his cell phone as he looked rather bored. Elle couldn’t pay attention to behind her where the main gods sat, but she held the strong belief that Jack was more occupied with the goddess of hair extensions than he was with giving her advice on how to not get maimed.
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