The Song of Patroclus

Chapter 3

I stood in the field.

My hands were crossed behind my back, and I was standing rigidly beside my father. He had still not given up on trying to find me a companion. Today he was making me watch a boy called Adonis, a noble exiled from Alesiaeum, what for I did not know. I had seen him during lunch, talked to him as well. He was not particularly, bright. But he could fight. And apparently that had been enough for my father.

"He would be an irreplaceable companion," My father whispered. He was a remarkable soldier, but that was all he was. A soldier. He could be replaced by another experienced fighter. He was not irreplaceable. I do not need my companion to fight, I need him to be someone I want to be around.

"So can he," I pointed at another exile. "And him," I point at another boy who was training with a spear. "And him," I point at another. And another. And another.

I face my father.

"Many of these boys can fight, little of them will make a fit companion," I said. My father sighed.

"You expect too much of these poor boys, Achilles," He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "They are but exiles. There will be no man fit enough to be your companion if your standards stay as high." Maybe. We will see.

The awkward silence that usually follows this conversation was replaced by the sounds of the drills. Teachers yelling, the boys talking in between their breaks, swords scraping against another, arrows piercing through wood, spears hitting the ground, and eventually my father's cough.

"Also, tomorrow another exile will come," He explained. He does not usually inform me of the arrivals of more boys. They usually meet my father once, and become part of the every-growing number of exiles in Phthia. "The prince of Opus. Do you remember him?"

I looked up. The dark-haired boy who sat beside King Monoetius up in the dias five years ago. The memory was still fresh in my mind, his dirty brown hair and his wide, curious eyes as he laid them upon me. The bright, shiny leaves of the wreath against his dark hands. His hair, clean and polished, flowing wildly in the wind. His uninterest as his father crowned me the winner of the race. The irritation and hate in his glare as his father said those words which had confused me for weeks after that morning. That is what a son should be.

Why his memories outshone every other aspect of that event, I could not say.

"I will not be here to greet him tomorrow. I ask you to do so instead in my absence." I nod quickly. He smiles. "I will depart this evening. I will be back in a few weeks."

"Why did he get exiled?" I questioned.

"I do not yet know, Achilles," He answers. "I was notified of his exilement a few days back by a letter from his father, king Menoetius. He requested his son's exilement be fulfilled here, in Phthia. The letter of my agreement reached him today. The prince is on his way here, he'll reach by tomorrow afternoon."

"What is his name?"

"King Menoetius did not say. You can ask him yourself when he gets here," He smiles. I nod. After a moment, he asks, "Are you going to meet your mother today?"

I see his fists clench as he mentions my mother. His wife may be a sea nymph, but she still hates my father. He means nothing to her, nothing more then the dirty, mortal blood running through my veins. And because she is a god, she is instantly the more important parent.

Being a women means little when you're a god.

This means many things. If my mother can one day convince me to start living with her, my father cannot stop me. She can take away his son, the one thing that sets our tiny Phthia apart from the other countries.

"Yes," I answer. He nods tightly. The more time I spend with my mother, the more chances she has to talk me into leaving the humans and living with her and the nymphs. He would rather not take that chance, but he did not dare to go against my mother.

Many wise men did not.

——

I am lying in my bed, recently woken from a nap by the sunlight, when someone knocks on my bedroom door. Come in, I say, and the door opens. I do not yet turn around.

I recognize a servant's voice as he greets me, and introduces the boy. At the mention of the exile, I turn around.

Even if the servant had not introduced him, I would have recognized him instantly. He has changed little in the five years I had seen him. His hair had grown longer, but his features were the same. He again analyzed me with his wide brown eyes, although this time with his mouth agape.

I yawned. "What's your name?" I asked. He looked down. Either he did not hear me, or chose not to answer. "What's your name?" I repeated, louder. He now had no choice. He looked up.

"Patroclus."

Pa-tro-clus.

Honour of the father, it meant. I did not insult it. I knew him little, not nearly enough to decide whether or not he had lived up to his name.

Rumors were rarely a good judge of people's character.

I nodded, and a strand of my tied hair fell into my face. I blew it away.

"My name is Achilles," I said, although he had not asked. He looked up at me so slightly I almost missed it. We regarded each other in cold silence, until another yawn broke out of me. "Welcome to Phthia."

He did little but turn around and walk out.

—

The next time I saw Patroclus was in the dining hall. I was sitting, surrounded by boys who laughed and cheered at everything I said. He had a tray in his hands, and was looking around for a place to sit.

His eyes had met mine through the ruckus, and he had narrowed his eyes.

He found a table to sit, eating quietly. If he did much else, I did not know. My attention was pulled away by a boy calling my name. Prince Achilles, he had said, not daring to touch me to get my attention instead. What he had said I did not remember .

What I do remember was looking back to find Patroclus' seat empty.

—

Author's note: heyy y'all. Sorry for the wait, but you read the prologue, you knew what was coming. I'll try to update more often, but my life's pretty messy right now, so no promises.

Lmk if y'all have any suggestions for my writing or anything, or just compliments cause I'm a slut for attention.

peace✌️