This is written for ShadowPalace and WindowChild's oneshot contest. Typical of me to publish barely a few hours before judging...

Once again, Write Or Die saved my life.

Hmmph. Anyways, here you go!

The end.

War. It burns in my veins, from the very roots of my birth. WAR! Power surges through me, a fiery blaze of energy, a screeching inferno of destruction. WAR!

As I sit here, leaning comfortably back on a plush leather chair, I think about this time, and what occurred so recently, the Second Titan War. Have we mistreated our children? Have we ignored our spawn from our creations, the humans? Are we to blame for the outbreak of the war?

The answer…yes. I feel sadness, so much. My fault! My children…only eight remained loyal to our side, while the others all left to the Titans, searching for better people to be loyal to. And now? Only two remain, the fool Sebastian, and my pride, the one I ignored and threatened most for so long. Clarisse.

My biggest mistake. Clarisse was a strong, noble girl, but her turning out to be female immediately changed my perception of someone to be proud of to a weak child, someone to be pushed around. I barely even knew her mother, it had just been a late night, me in a dark alley, drunk, walking to a safe place to teleport back to Olympus, when I met her. Overcome with lust, I raped her.

Now…I regret this more than anything else I have ever done. And? Clarisse looks at me just as her progenitor, her sperm donor, nothing more. Not even a person to look up to and respect.

One regret.

Percy Jackson. What was he to me? A child who wasn't supposed to be born. Someone else to compete against my children. Someone with the weight of the world on him.

What made him tick? What inspired him to keep on going, whilst others faltered around him, failed, lost their lives against the relentless power of the titans?

Love.

I would have never thought of this before this war. I had been blind, relying on my brute strength like I was born, trained, and accustomed to. Now, I've changed. My pride was gone when Percy injured me when my fool of a father's lightning bolt was stolen. My strength was gone a long time ago. But I was still blind. I believed I could live my life forever scheming against the other Olympians, having one-night stands with mortal women, siring plenty of children. But no. That was fun once, but now? I have realized nothing inspires me to live.

Two regrets.

Aphrodite. How could I describe her? Bitch. Whore. Goddess. Someone to lust after. Someone who would keep you eternally guessing, never knowing what she was thinking. Someone to have sex with and come out feeling no better.

At last I know. She has manipulated me, using the most basic emotion men have. Lust. All this time, I've been under her control, thinking I was the macho man, the strong one, the one always in control. Unfortunately, that was untrue. Aphrodite promised me with more and more if I did her bidding. Once again I let my pride in the way, and suffered so much more because of it.

Three regrets.

My father. The person who started my life with a word starting with "F." And no, its not fertilize. Obvious? Zeus...I have so many emotions about him its not right for the god of war.

He brought me into the world, coming upon my mother Hera when she least expected it. At least, that is what I've heard. Anyhow, I hated him. He was the one who controlled my life, scolding me, shouting, doing what no father should do to his son. Ever. Yet he was the same as me, someone who always had one-night stands, someone who could never resist himself. And here he comes, shouting me about my little escapades with various mortal women.

Yet for all my hate of him, I realized I loved my father, whether I liked it or not. I believe this is the only reason I was able to repent and help out during the last battle.

Four regrets.

As I sit here, I feel so much emotion flowing through me. I never thought anyone would be able to muster all this sadness and regret, let alone the god of war. But I know I must continue writing.

I remember that day, long long ago. I was standing in the courtyard of Olympus, shirtless, sword in hand, hacking away at cloth and straw dummies methodically arranged for me to destroy one and go on to the next.

I was bored. I had practiced this, again and again for so long. I needed something new.

And then she came in.

She was dressed in purple battle robes, golden Greek armor, a red crest upon her helm. I was speechless as I looked upon her fine form, her black hair splayed out behind her. Then she drew her blade.

"Come, let us duel."

The words were spoken liltingly and powerfully, showing she was gentle, loving and caring, but could switch to being strong, brave and determined in the blink of an eye.

I drew my blade and assumed my ready battle stance. I was tired, sweating and ready to drop dead, except I couldn't. But I decided to go easy on her. She was, after all, a woman. And women are weak. And I believed that!

Well I was proven wrong in a second. My opponent darted forward, her blade spinning behind her, her robes swishing. Swiftly, she slashed at my torso, almost leaving a long, deep cut across me. I leapt back, dodging. It was a sign to be alert and fight my best, but yet I continued to underestimate her.

In the end, she won. I had aimed a powerful blow at her neck, but she managed to dodge under my guard and flip the blade out of my hand, leaving me defenseless, and at the mercy of a woman.

Then she laughed, not unkindly. It was the most beautiful sound I ever heard. And then I knew instantly I was in love.

"What is your name?" I asked.

"Athena." she replied.

And from then on, we were best friends.

Until I betrayed her.

I shall not go into the details now. But it involved two great mortal powers, a lot of bloodshed, and many heroes, destined for great deeds, dying atop a body-stained peak.

From then on, she never trusted me again. I tried again to reconcile with her, but it never happened. It was over.

I was still in love. From then on, ever woman I had ever been with, every time I looked at someone that way, I felt guilt. For I knew if I had walked over and said hello, it would end in grief. For I could only be in love with Athena, the only one I could never catch. Even Aphrodite could not sate my desires.

My fifth and final regret.

***

Ares sat back and stretched, yawning. It was late, and he should have been sleeping. Leaning forward, he looked at the page he had written once again, and scrawled two more words.

The beginning.

Heads up if you caught the Nightwish reference. Flame me as much as you like if you hate this :)

Thanks to Erin (sistergrimm2) for last minute beta-ing.

'Till my next fic,

~Avenger