They let me pick, did I ever tell you that? Choose whichever warrior I wanted. You know me. I made you train every day until your bones cracked. Like the others, you were strong and swift and brave. But there was something you had they didn’t. Something no one else saw but me. Can you guess?
For days he scaled the treacherous and rocky path of the mountain. Colder than the deepest pits of hell, fit to freeze the giants of mythology. Given only a spear to survive, he continued his ascent. The pounding beat of his aching feet wasn’t easy to ignore. His tunic and trousers were ripped to shreds exposing his bare skin to freezing shards of ice and fierce wind. Yet he continued, his resolve strong and casting any hint of doubt aside.
Reaching the top, he heard a soft, beastly growl as the wolf waited for him. A wolf unlike any other that stood on its legs like a man. Claws of black steel, fur a shade of midnight, and glaring red eyes. It stood between Deimos and his goal, a rare plant that grew only in the winter. It began to circle him, taunting his prey with every move. The wind picked up, sweeping soft pines that danced in the air.
He steadied his hands, gripping the spear tight, waiting for the right moment. The beast lunged, falling into the spear’s iron tip, howling into the moon. It cried once more in agony, however, its slayer was not completely without mercy. His form perfect, as he silenced it with a final thrust.
Deimos prayed to his gods atop the mountain. He offered them the burning scent of the Wisteria for his victory. He thanked his father Ares for blessing him with incredible strength and prowl. The power to feed on the blood of others for immortality. A blessing or perhaps, a curse that would damn him for eternity...