"I am the sea.
I am the waves,
That pound against the shore.
I am the breeze,
That fills your body with life.
I am the salt,
That decorates your hair.
I am the sea.
And no one can restrain me."
He couldn't help but admire the night sky. To a mortal's eye, there was darkness, only the never ending blackness that was accompanied by a rare star or two that managed to peak out of the city lights. To his eyes, however, he could see the many constellations that glittered above, like wonderful figures that seemed to come to life if you looked at them with enough determination. He could see the edge of the galaxies, decorated in pinks, yellows, and slight blues, and if he stared with enough concentration, he could see the nearest planets appear every now and then whenever they aligned with the Earth.
There was such beauty in such infinite chaos.
He breathed in the sea breeze, invigorated by the way it filled his lungs with strength. This was his domain, the sea. It was his power, his lifeline.
And if he was to be summoned, he would face them where he was at his peak.
Thunder boomed in the background. The roar of an engine grew, and as he turned, he was met with an imposing figure in a leather jacket, his motorcycle glowing a faint red, like embers dimming after a fire is put out.
"Ares." He greeted dryly. The man removed his helmet, revealing his scarred, bearded face, and a wicked smile that could only be described as the personification of violence, which he was.
"Hello, uncle." The greeting would've been strange to any prying eyes witnessing it. The god of war could never in a million years pass as his nephew thanks to the mortal body he'd created for himself. Ares looked ready to join an army, a violent, biker-loving army, and he was roughly around ten to fifteen years older than his own twenty-two year old frame. "It's been a while."
"Yes, it has." He agreed, though possessed no interest in small talk. "Of course, I don't really care about reliving our past encounters. I'm more interested in knowing why we're here."
"So impatient, Poseidon." Ares mused, placing a hand on his beard as if he were in deep thought. "Is it that boyish body that prevents you from controlling your moods?"
"Ares, what are we doing here?"
The man rolled his bright, golden eyes, but instead of retaliating with one of his famous snarks, he complied to his demands. "Father's angry with you."
Wasn't he always? "Not surprising. The King of the gods has always had one of his spears stuck in his-"
Ares interrupted him, as if it were too serious of a situation for him to enjoy a remark like that. "I'm glad you can joke at this moment, uncle, because he sent me here to make sure you face your punishment for your crimes."
"And what, pray tell, are those crimes?" He drawled, acting as nonchalant as he could when in reality he truly wasn't. His brain was working overtime in an attempt to figure out what it is that he'd done, but so far he came up with nothing as serious as to have his dramatic brother want to punish him.
"You've become reckless. There is a fine line that balances life itself, and in that fine line, the balance partially consists of us living in the mystery of whether or not we exist. You have revealed yourself to mortals, and if that wasn't enough, you have lost control over your powers one too many times in front of them."
"Ares, the king of recklessness and influencing mortals, is lecturing me?"
The man chuckled, but his irritation was clear just by looking at the way his muscles tensed. "I like messing with things, yes, it's true. It's also true that I like getting involved in mortals's lives, but my involvement in their lives is not as direct as you'd think. You see, I believe mortals are naturally dark creatures, so it's easy to feed into their gread, their incessant need to rule over each other and prove whoever they want wrong. And if you feed their thirst for power just enough, well, it's easy to start wars. But, despite it, even I know the dangers of messing with the balance that Chaos left us."
"Oh, please. If any mortal has seen what I've done, who would believe them?"
"Perhaps you're right. But Father has grown tired of waiting for you to control yourself." It seemed that this conversation was headed towards the end, which was something Poseidon was not happy about. "It's time to surrender and face the consequences."
Face the consequences? He meant, face whatever unfair punishment that Zeus had decided to decree on all but himself. The hypocrisy of his brother was incredible, seeing as he'd impose himself into the lives of mortals countless of times it was difficult to keep track. But of course, if it was Poseidon, or Hades, or any one of the other gods or creatures, it was a heinous crime that needed to be punished.
Well, he wouldn't stand for it.
The sea god's hands tightened into fists. The waters rose and the tides turned violent, and they awaited his command to sink them into the depths. The wind, despite being one of his brother's main powers, held no control whenever he could grasp at it. With it, he could demolish a city if he pleased, and chug mighty ships into the sea. The tremors underneath his feet started to grow, the vibrations of the tectonic plates mirroring the unpredictable rage that the sea god possessed. He was perfectly able to defend himself from the war that was sure to develop between him and his brothers, even if that meant destroying their creations in the process.
Infinite chaos, indeed.
"Poseidon," Despite his penchant for war, Ares was clearly not keen on disappearing from existence, which would be the end result of any war between the three brothers of Olympus. "If you do this, the world could very well cease to exist, and I really like existing."
"If you're keen on existing," His hands tightened against the pier's railing. "Then you should tell Zeus that if he wants to punish me, he should do it himself."
"Yeah, well, I have strict orders. Not just by Zeus, but by the Moirai themselves." The click of a gun alerted his senses, and when he turned, he felt the sting of the bullet as it hit him. "And no amount of fighting can prevent the Fates. You know that."
His hands clutched tightly around his torso, and the violent turmoil of the sea and the earth came to an addrupt end. "W-what's h-happening, to me?!"
"With the power granted to me by Zeus, king of the gods, of the sky, of the wind, thunder and lightning; and the Fates, masters of destiny, let it be known that I, Ares, the god of violence, bloodlust, and war, son of King Zeus and Queen Hera, hereby strip you, Poseidon, of your dominion over the sea, the storms, the earth, and your respective creatures."
The sea god collapsed to his knees, screaming in horror as he felt his power slowly drain away with every word, a powerful current coursing through him taking everything away from him.
"You are hereby banished from Mount Olympus, and are to spend an eternity, or however long the Fates deem it, in your current state, with your current mortal life that you have built for yourself."
"N-No!" His eyes stared hazedly at the sparks of electricity seeping through his veins, draining him of his control, of what made him a god.
He couldn't let this happen.
"Your weapon of choice, your mighty Trident, will be removed from your possession," Ares knelt in front of him, grabbing him by the neck and ripping one of the necklaces he had, the one with a small trident pendant, his trident, his greatest belonging. He had the audacity to chuckle. "And dealt with accordingly by the Fates."
His hands managed to find the railing again. He mustered whatever strength he had left to pull himself up, his legs shaking terribly and his vision failing him. He wanted to fight. He wanted to thrash and destroy and take back what was rightfully his. He wanted to show them that they were wrong for doing this to him, that there would be hell to pay.
But he felt too weak, too fragile to do so. He was starting to feel like a mortal. And, now...
How would he do anything, at all?
"Apologies, uncle." Fucking Ares pretending like he wasn't enjoying this made his rage increase.
"I-I w-will..." his words failed him. He wanted to tell him that he would enjoy his revenge, but perhaps it was best not to even say it. The war god enjoyed a good challenge, after all. And he was not a good challenge at all right now. "J-Just... go.."
"I guess I'll leave you to your fate. Till eternity."
And with that, the war god left him in his misery, the roar of his motorcycle still echoing in his ears while he thought of his next move.
The waves crashed underneath him in peace, and he turned to see the horizon once more. Though he felt his power dimming and his body failing, he couldn't help but find serenity in the sound of the sea. So much so, that before he could even think things through, he was already exerting whatever strength he had left to lift himself onto the railing, looking at the hazy darkness below him.
One thing he would always be sure, was the peace he felt when being in the water. Poseidon yearned for that peace, once more.
He needed that peace, like a mortal needed air to breathe.
And so, he didn't think. Thinking would only lead him to wallow in his newfound misery.
He didn't think.
And he sunk into the depths of the sea, letting the darkness swallow him whole.