I.

Smoke filled the air...

The stench of death choking...

Bodies littered the ground...

Fires burned out in the campsites...

Weapons lay broken on the battlefield...

The war god looked on...

And stood defeated...

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The Warrior Princess cradled the lifeless body of her best friend. She refused to believe that after so many years of fighting alongside against warlords, thieves, emperors and gods, she’d lose Gabrielle to one lost arrow. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She vowed over the Bard’s body to avenge her death. Bringing Dahok to his.

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Besides Xena, a lonely warrior mourned the death of the only woman he’d really loved in all his life. Hoping Gabrielle could now hear his thoughts, Joxer silently made a promise.

“No matter what, I will follow Xena and help her avenge your death, my love.”

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Goudas kneeled before the blood soaked altar. As much as he’d liked to take credit of victory, he knew he’d won only because his god stood behind and in him throughout the battle. But to claim victory against the Greek war god was a sweet temptation...

But there was a bigger victory yet to win; one they’d win shortly...

Unsheathing a bloodied dagger from his left boot, Goudas reverently placed it on the altar. It had been easy enough to find, but the difficulty was getting it.

Indeed his god would greatly reward him for all his troubles and all his victories...

“Oh, don’t worry,” a soft voice spoke from thin air. “You’ll get what’s coming to you...”

And Goudas was enveloped in flames, turned to ashes within seconds.

A shadowy form appeared, but quickly vanished into the darkness of the temple.

“And everyone else too...”

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Eleven of the Twelve Olympians sat in their respective thrones, all facing their chained captive.

The King of the gods stood and walked over to the kneeling figure. Taking hold of blood and mud caked hair; he forced the prisoner’s head up.

“Ares, you lost your chance to redeem yourself before your fellow gods. Your betrayal deserved no second chances. If not for the necessity of a war god, this punishment would have been handed over earlier. One simple war which decided the complete fate of the Olympians and human kind, and you were defeated!” Zeus roughly let go of his son’s hair, making him tumble and fall on his side, his chained arms behind his back providing him with no balance.

“At the insistence of several gods, you will be turned mortal and have a protection against the Olympian gods bestowed upon you, instead of the eternity in Tartarus you deserve. And you will have two weeks to choose your successor, otherwise, we’ll name him.”

Ares turned pleading eyes towards his father. “Father, I’m sorry-“

“No excuses, Ares.”

“Mother? Please...”

Hera turned her face away from her son, and the rest of the gods followed suit, only Aphrodite and Hephaestus hesitating a second before turning away too.

The god hung his head and then screamed in agony as his powers were ripped away from him...

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A mortal man crashed to the ground, hitting his head hard, uttering a few whispered words before the darkness of unconsciousness overtook him.

“I’m sorry, Father...”

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In Olympus, the gods grieved the imminent loss of one of their own...

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II.

It had not been an easy day of travel for two mourning warriors. Both Xena and Joxer were grateful that Poteidia had been only half a day’s journey from the battlegrounds.

They had been able to bury Gabrielle besides her family.

As they left what was left of the once cheery and beautiful village, neither warrior could help but wonder what lay ahead of them.

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Further down the road, a man still laid unconscious, unaware that his greatest enemy was about to become his only salvation...

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III.

Ares came to with a jolt, blinking wildly to try and clear his blurred vision.

“Xena,” a familiar voice called out. “He’s awake.”

“Joxer?” Ares’ voice was no more than a husky whisper.

“Yes. Hush... don’t try to talk. Here, have some water,” Joxer said as he held up a water skin for Ares to drink from. Just then Xena walked into the campsite.

“You’re awake,” her voice was flat, not revealing any emotion. “And you’re mortal.”

The former god managed to nod in affirmation.

“Why?”

Ares sighed. His voice was strained as he answered. “I messed up, okay? My defeat in today’s battle decided if I was redeemed in front of the other Olympians. I lost.”

“The war was two days ago,” Joxer spoke up.

“What?”

“You’ve been unconscious.”

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After a simple meal of rabbit stew, three mortals sat around the fire in uneasy silence. Xena sharpened her sword as Joxer poked the fire with a stick. Ares shifted and winced as he pulled on the stitches that Xena had to make on his left midriff, where a rock cut into his flesh.

“You okay?” Joxer asked when he noticed the expression of pain in the war g... ex-war god’s face.

“Yea... no. This, " he said, his hand hovering over the bandage, "hurts. I'm used to it though. I always get wounded after a battle. Although Asclepius potions do help with the pain.”

“I thought gods don’t get hurt.”

“Gods don’t get hurt. Except me, Eris and Heph.”

“Oh.”

“So, what about Dahok?” Xena changed the subject abruptly.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you want to defeat him?”

“Oh, I wanna fry his ass, alright. But I have tried and tried again, and nothing worked. I don't know how to kill him. He was able to escape from the pit of Tartarus Hercules dropped him in. No other god I know has been able to do that by him or herself. And he *did* do it alone. The pit was guarded day and night.”

"What have you tried?" Xena inquired.

Joxer listened attentively at the exchange between his friend and his god. Thinking about that made him frown. Ares was no longer a god, no longer the god of war. Who would he worship now? Athena? A powerful goddess indeed, but no one he'd like to worship. So who would the next war god be?

Feeling disturbed by his thoughts, Joxer decided to turn in for the night. Tomorrow would be a long day…

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A burst of lighting and power slammed into his chest, sending him flying back, connecting with a sturdy marble pillar. He fell into a heap, and he knew he'd be dead soon. The man managed to lift his head slightly, wincing when fire ignited in the middle of the temple, a scream of agony echoing from the high walls. The man was able to hold his head up and see another figure collapse on the floor before the darkness enveloped him…

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IV.

Xena slapped Joxer in the face, trying to wake him up. The young man was wheezing, not able to fill his lungs with air.

Water splashed into Joxer's face, drenching him and the Warrior Princess, but waking him at last. Xena turned to see the newly mortal Ares holding a water skin while clutching his side. She quirked her eyebrows, unwilling to let a smile of gratitude cross her face. With Gabrielle gone, Iolaus and Hercules Zeus knows where, Joxer was the only friend she had left and she'd be dammed before she lost him too.

Turning back to her friend, she held out a hand to him to help him sit up.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just had one of those really weird dreams."

"Sounded bad."

"In the dream, I couldn't breath, that's all. Sometimes dreams turn into reality." Joxer hated lying to Xena, but how could he explain a dream he couldn't explain to himself.

"And the other way around," the warrior responded grimly, remembering her own dreams of Gabrielle's death and not really believing Joxer's account of his dream.

"Let just forget about all this," Joxer said cheerfully. Funny how easier it got to pretend happiness. "Look, it's almost dawn. I'm going over to the stream to wash up and we can get an early start today." The sunny disposition did not cover the stern order from his words.

Xena looked at the clumsy warrior in astonishment. She hardly saw him this decisive, with real strength behind his words instead of his usual fake bravado. It made her even more curious about Joxer's dream.

She was so caught up in analyzing Joxer's behavior that she didn't notice Ares' quiet "I'll go with you," to Joxer until she saw then walking away together. The Warrior Princess decided to leave the analyzing until after she had breakfast.

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Joxer didn't know what to feel when Ares decided to come along with him. But a deep-rooted uneasiness told him not be alone with the former god. He had a weird feeling that something bad was going to happen; and it was going to happen when the two of were caught alone… together.

He tried the deep breath calming exercises Jett had taught him, but that only brought on a wave of grief over him. So many were dead at the hands of the demon-god, and both his brothers and his mother were among them. Jett died while trying to protect his family… 'No one hurts them but me' he used to say, and Jace and his mother died for not turning into Dahok's service.

The mixed feelings of grief over his family and friends, being proud of his family's decision, the uneasiness he felt being with Ares, and the bad dream that kept running over and over in his mind, proofed to be too much for the young warrior. He started hyperventilating.

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V.

Ares helped Joxer to sit down on one of the rocks by the side of the road. He’d seen this happen before. Joxer took on too many feelings at once, and it wasn’t healthy. Ares started to help Joxer get his breathing back.

Just then, a faint shimmer of gold and sparkles, heralded the arrival of the love goddess.

“What do you want ‘Dite?” Ares asked without turning to face his half-sister.

“Deimos is dead,” Aphrodite stated, her voice low with sadness.

The simple statement brought Ares up on his feet, wincing in pain, but not really caring about that.

“Dead? How can... Not Deimos... How?”

“Deimos found Dahok’s temple, in Antipolis. He and Strife decided to check it out. Strife stayed behind in your of your temples while Deimos went in. They kept an open channel, everything the other thought or saw the other knew. It seems that as soon as Deimi got in, he was kept from getting out. Dahok appeared to him, no disguises, in his natural form; a nasty beast, Strife said. Dahok’s followers surrounded Deimi, and one of them killed him with a dagger covered in hind’s blood.”

“Hind’s blood? How did they get it? It was in my temple. Nobody can take anything from my temple without me noticing.”

“It could have been after...” Joxer finally spoke, his breathing normal again. He wondered if this was the bad thing that was going to happen when Ares and him were alone.

“So what do you want me do to?”

“Figure out how to kill him, Ares please.”

“Me? I’m no longer the god of war. It’s not my responsibility. Besides, I tried.”

“But Arry, you’re the only one that can do it.”

“What?”

“I... I, uh, mean, you’ve been the god of war for millennia, you know how to do these things,” the love goddess stammered.

“Zeus is older than me. And Strife and Eris know how I work. I’m sure they can figure it out.”

“NO! It has to be you!”

“What aren’t you telling me sis?”

Aphrodite looked around apprehensively.

“Okay, I’ll tell you, but no one must know I told you.” She waited until they both nodded in affirmation.

“I, uh, I went to the Fates, much like everyone else, to ask how could we defeat Dahok. They said only the fallen god could save us. You’re the fallen god, Ares.”

“They didn’t say how?”

“Cupid went with me, he asked that. They said the fallen god must make the right choice of his heart at the right time. That’s all they have said to anyone.”

“What choice?”

“That’s what you have to figure out. Ares, many of the gods are retreating again, going to other worlds. Our world is dying at the hands of Dahok. You have to save us.”

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VI.

The trip to Antipolis was treacherous to say the least. The three wary warriors had been avoiding the main roads, in turn avoiding Dahok’s and other war bands looking for the former war god. Ares had finally managed to be in speaking terms with Xena, something he hadn’t managed to do since he revealed that he was indeed her father. The warrior had been intent of helping Ares defeat Dahok if that was what the Fates had decreed.

But Joxer had been distancing himself more and more from him. He didn’t want to spend any time alone with Ares. He always found an excuse to get away when Xena left the two of them alone. And Ares found himself grieving. He had thought that maybe what Joxer and him had shared so long ago had meant something to him.

He’d let Joxer go all those years ago when he left his family behind to explore the country. He’d missed his lover, and knew Joxer missed him, but he’d always thought that their timing had been off, that they’d find their way to each other again. Joxer had been young, and after all he had gone through with his family, the war god had understood he needed to get away from it all, even him. He knew Joxer didn’t want Xena to know about them, yet, so far, it seemed Joxer just didn’t want to be alone with him. Didn’t even acknowledge the intimacy they’d shared before. That once he’d loved him once as much as he loved Gabrielle.

So Ares found himself again alone on this side of the fire, when all he wanted to do was crawl to Joxer’s blanket, wrap himself around his lover and grief for Deimos, for all the warriors who’d died for him, for disappointing his family yet again, and for himself. A deep hurt wrapped around his heart, and he cried silently.

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VII.

Ares knew he shouldn’t curse the gods for the thunderstorm. It probably wasn’t their doing. Contrary to what most mortals thought, they didn’t like to waste energy like on those things unless absolutely necessary. Most likely, Dahok was trying to slow them down, any means possible. He also knew the war band was Dahok’s doing. They all had that blank stare of a soulless body.

That last war band had struck without them noticing, and Joxer had gotten hurt when he hesitated to kill his attacker when he got an opening. He had fallen to Joxer’s side and tried to stop the bleeding while Xena disposed of the rest of the small war band.

Ares kept a silent sentry over Joxer while the Warrior Princess took care of Joxer’s wound on their impromptu campsite. He kept unnaturally quiet, not even gloating when Xena acknowledged somewhat reluctantly that if he hadn’t stopped the blood flow, Joxer wouldn’t have made it.

Now more than ever he wanted to take Dahok down. How dare that demon hurt his Joxer?

He had long ago stopped trying to analyze the depth of his feelings for the warrior. In his mind, Joxer would always be his lover, even if they weren’t. Even if Joxer didn’t love him anymore.

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Eight days passed until they reached Antipolis. Weather had been consistently bad and Joxer’s injury slowed them down. The three warriors knew Dahok was aware of them. All the war bands were the same soulless soldiers every time, yet that was all the demon seemed to be throwing at them.

Ares and Xena both knew Dahok didn’t want to stop them from coming, only to slow them down.

The Warrior Princess grew more and more impatient at Ares, who hadn’t figured out the right decision to make.

They didn’t have any plan as to how to stop Dahok, beyond Ares making the decision that was supposed to save them all. He knew he had to choose a new war god, and knew that Xena was probably the most obvious choice. But his gut told him it wasn’t the right one.

But who then?

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VIII.

The three warriors crouched down behind an upturned cart, watching the proceedings in front of Dahok’s temple.

The temple guards were bringing imprisoned villagers one by one to here the High Priestess stood.

When one young brunette came forward, the priestess grabbed her by the chains around her neck. Pulling the young girl to her, she used her as a body shield.

“I know you’re out there Ares. And Xena too. Come out if you want to spare her pathetic little life,” the priestess called, pulling a knife to the girl’s neck.

Ares and Xena came out from behind the cart, telling Joxer to stay put. As they advanced slowly towards the priestess, two of Dahok’s warriors pulled Joxer from behind the cart, and pushed him forward.

“Him!” the priestess cried. “I want him! Inside, now!”

Father and daughter where in motion instantly, but found themselves surrounded by warriors. As they fought they way towards Joxer, the young man was dragged to the temple, followed by the High Priestess.

Ares managed to break through and enter the temple, leaving Xena to the fighting. Inside, the soulless warriors where placing a thrashing Joxer upon the altar. Before they could tie him down, Ares charged upon them, decapitating them, making sure they wouldn’t get back up.

Pulling Joxer off the altar, was unprepared for the lightning bolt that threw him against the far wall of the temple. Shaking his head to clear it, he saw the demon god grabbing Joxer and pulling him up by his collar.

Getting back on his feet, he charged against the demon, breaking Joxer lose.

The battle was fierce, but neither man backed down, giving all they had into trying to defeat this abomination.

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But in the end Ares stayed down in defeat. This last attack broke his back, he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He had tried, he really had, but in the end, he was just a weak mortal. He could not go against Dahok. Ares turn his head, the only movement he could make, trying to see if outside the sun had not yet set. He had to name his successor, someone strong enough to defeat Dahok, before he died, before the decision was made for him.

He watched as Joxer struggled to get up again, the pain he must have been feeling in his body would not, could not compare itself with the pain in his heart and soul if he gave up now. Ares smiled weakly. Joxer had been, was still, the purest warrior Ares had ever had. His compassionate soul and innocence was matched with a brave heart and relentless determination.

It suddenly all became clear. Not strong of body, strong of heart, where Dahok had no power.

It was his last chance, his last effort to right a terrible wrong. To redeem himself and give the world a second chance.

“Zeus, Father, I call upon you to name my successor. For the god of War deserves to be the bravest warrior and purest soul. I name Joxer of Athens, the god of War.” It was no more than a whisper, his energy and life force draining fast.

And with his last breath, Ares managed to whisper, “I love you Jox, I always will.”

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The events that transpired then occurred in just seconds.

Dahok advanced on Joxer, in whose hand suddenly appeared in a pure flash of white light the sword of power of the war god. Joxer was enveloped in a white mist of pure energy. Instinct took over and Joxer struck Dahok down with the sword of war, cutting into his chest, striking his black heart. The mist started to race along the sword, entering and enveloping the demon as well. A scream of agony filled the temple as Dahok burst into flames and was consumed by them. As Dahok’s scream ended, a higher one, one of pure rage broke the silence again. Joxer turned to see Draskas, the high priestess of Dahok, advance on him. Before he could react, she drew the hind’s blood dagger from her arm sleeve and struck Joxer, cutting into his stomach. The new war god looked down at himself as he paled, turned to see Ares dead halfway across the temple and fell forward.

“No!!!!”

Draskas turned from the fallen god, to see Xena’s chakram strike her on the chest, killing her.

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The Warrior Princess had finally defeated all of the soulless warriors outside the temple and rushed to the temple. She but was unable to enter the temple, a force field of some kind keeping her out. Through the wide open doors and an invisible wall, she’d seen all that happened. As soon as it was lowered she struck, but it was too late.

Running over towards her fallen friend, she turned him around and pulled Joxer’s head into her lap. She reached down and took the dagger out from Joxer. Tossing it aside in anger, she leaned down to hug Joxer’s head.

“Hey Joxer, come on.”

“Xena?”

“Yeah buddy, you rest now, everything’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

"Is he dead?”

“Yes, you killed Dahok, you were great.”

“No.... is Ares dead?”

“I’m sorry Joxer...”

“I never told him how much I really loved him.... I love you too, Xena, you’re my best friend....” Joxer breathed and slumped to his side.

“Joxer? Joxer, come on buddy. I love you too. I’m sorry, so sorry I didn’t protect your back. I should have been there, to fight side to side with you. Like you always said we did. You were great. You finally did it. You’re a hero. Mine,” Xena said, her voice breaking, “and everyone else’s. You saved us all.”

She shook the limp form.

“Come on Joxer. You’re a hero. Come on, you have gloating to do. Don’t leave me alone...”

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Epilogue

Xena took refuge in one of the last temples still standing. With a sad smile, she took notice that this particular temple belonged to long dead Ares, god of War.

Hoping that where ever his soul rested, he’d hear the silent ‘I miss you’ she whispered, she made her across the temple towards the back rooms, leaning heavily on her staff. She needed to rest her leg. The trip back to Greece had been difficult and torturous on her left leg.

News of Iolaus’ death took her to Britania, but by then Hercules had once again disappeared without a trace.

Greece was in chaos. Unrestrained war had broken out everywhere 10 years ago, and was still raging strong. The land was torn, the population decimated, the gods no longer believed in or around, and no control over emotions.

When Joxer died, no one had claimed the sword, temporarily or permanent, and it was lost, and with it, the godhead of war. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. Joxer wasn’t supposed to die...

The Warrior Princess saw the last god of war die, and she’d see the world die as well....