"Your shield isn't there for decoration, you know."

A deep voice rumbled from a good distance away, as you stood training like you did almost every day on the open grounds behind Athena's temple. A funny thing about Olympus was that most of the gods were, in some way or another, just straight-up neighbors. Sure, everyone amidst the twelve owned land (Or cloud, depending on how you looked at it.) with varying generosity, but said patches of land weren't that far apart. Hence, on the days you were training up there, you'd occasionally see sights of the twelve going about their day. Be it, Hermes, 'borrowing' some of your mentor's olives straight from the tree, or Aphrodite bottling up her stash of natural shampoo from ginger plants next to her window. Even now, given how Ares blurted out a snide comment about your skill as you wielded your weapon.

"You make a ball of cotton look like a better fighter."

Ares was sitting on the back stairs of his temple, not even sparing you a glance as he inspected his blade, cursing at the random dent that remained on the sharp edge. This was no regular occasion. Ares usually avoided talking to Athena's students, they acted 'holier-than-thou' most of the time, and if not, they'd be soiling themselves at the sight of him, proving time and time again to be difficult to get along with. But, given Athena was off running errands today and you were aimlessly waving a weapon around on your own, it seemed he couldn't help himself.