— ash and blood: Aphrodite & Thanatos
The streets of Troy were filled with smoke and blood. He walked on through the ash, spreading dust with his feet and listening to the cracking bones. He passed by a pile of bodies, all covered in own blood which was flowing down from their armour. In their dead eyes he could see the terror and fear which they were all put into last night.
The war had ended and the city was sacked without mercy. The Greeks had shown quite a lot of wit the other day, even Thanatos had to admit that Athena's invention of the false horse was not a bad idea. But as he watched the piles of dead bodies, he somewhat doubted that.
Most of the work had already been done, last night he was not needed for the lust for blood of the mankind was enough, any supernatural power could not kill more fiercely. There were Greek soldiers just as well as the Trojans; death did not choose sides. Now he was there to do only the dirty, humiliating job and take the rest with him. Some of the victims were still screaming, panting with pain. Their slow death could be smelled in the air and he had decided that their suffering was sufficient. WIth a swing of his hand, he took their lives and ended their pain. It was a harvest, but not of a merry kind, for any plain cutthroat could kill those who would not fight back.
As he went on with ending their lives, he noticed a figure at the end of the street. Fair and beautiful, he did not hesitate about who she was. In the shadow and burned houses, she seemed like a pearl, a sudden ray of life. He got closer to her, sly and quiet.
"You picked the wrong side. Bitter and fatal, that's what your loss is, Aphrodite."