Wars Of Love

Golden Spear, Golden Armor, Brown Eyes

The clash between the Spartans and the Trojans was like a collision of two mighty waves, each crashing against the other with a force that sent blood soaring from their bodies. The battlefield reverberated with the sound of clashing weapons, the metallic echoes filling the air. Above, airships soared to provide aid, but their valiant efforts were swiftly crushed as a golden projectile pierced through their defenses, reducing them to mere dust in an instant.

I entered our tent as the cries of wounded soldiers echoed outside. Inside, Achilles sat upon his chair, the same spot where I had left him before, but now he was engaged in a different pursuit. His fingers danced upon the strings of his lyre, producing a melody that seemed to drown out the cries from outside. And he sang...

"Oh, stand with me," he sang, his voice filled with a raw vulnerability, "through the trials we face, In this realm of wonder, our hearts embrace..." In that fleeting moment, as his voice enveloped the space around us, I caught a glimpse of a different man. The man I had fallen in love with, the man I yearned for him to remain.

"Achilles!" I called out to him, my voice cutting through the air and shattering the fragile tranquility that had enveloped the tent. He turned his head towards me, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine, a mix of surprise and curiosity etched across his face.

"You already know," he began, his voice carrying a hint of resignation, "that I won't fight. Agamemnon has made his choice."

"I know," I responded, my voice filled with determination, "That's why I'll be the one to do it!"  

My declaration hung heavily in the air, and I watched as his expression transformed from surprise to sheer shock. His usually composed face now contorted with disbelief, his lips parted as if trying to form words that simply refused to escape.

"Wh--You--" he stammered, his voice trembling with a vulnerability I had never witnessed before. For once in his life, Achilles, the mighty warrior, was at a loss for words. It was evident that he had no idea how to respond to my unwavering statement.

"You refuse to fight because of your ego," I began, my voice carrying an undercurrent of frustration and disappointment. "You are willing to let countless lives be lost, all while clinging to the title of a hero. But true heroism isn't about dying in a grand battle; it's about sacrificing yourself in the most brutal way imaginable for the sake of others. If your pride blinds you to this truth and prevents you from taking action, then let me take your place!"

Achilles looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. His brow arched in an attempt to comprehend my words. "Take my place?" he questioned, his voice tinged with confusion. 

"Yes," I affirmed, my voice unwavering. "Give me your armor, your spear. I will pretend to be you. If the Spartans see me and believe you are fighting alongside them, perhaps we stand a chance at victory. I can move like you, fight like you, speak like you. So let me pretend I'm you." 

As my words settled in the air, his reaction was immediate and intense. He lunged forward, gripping my shoulders with a sudden rush of emotion. His eyes bore into mine, filled with a mixture of concern and desperation. "Pretend!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with a raw intensity. "All you can do is pretend! You aren't me! You will die!"

His words stung, but I refused to let doubt cloud my determination. "We have both undergone the same training, honed the same skills." I argued, my voice steady.

"But you've never killed anyone! And I know that you never will. So when that moment comes where you have to take a life...you won't." He confessed, his voice tinged with a mix of sadness and certainty. 

I met his gaze, unwavering despite the tremors of uncertainty that threatened to shake me. "I don't need to kill anyone. I'll just inspire them, instill hope within their hearts. I will show them that you are there, fighting alongside them. They have all witnessed the devastating power of your weapon. The Trojans will cower and flee as soon as they lay eyes on me."