The Heir of a Thousand Lifetimes (A PJO Universe Story)

That's arson.

The tent is dark. It is illuminated by nothing but tiny streams of moonlight that manage to weasel their way in. I am sat at his side, rigid and unmoving. He is pale with the faded shade of death. I cannot move from him. The last time I allowed him from my side...

No. No. I cannot think of it. But how can I not? Especially when he is like this before me? Especially when Hector's blood does not yet paint my sword?

It is a bitter realization as I look down at Patroclus' unmoving, unbreathing body. He is still so beautiful, even now, even like this. I would have given anything to have him for just one more day.

I have known it for as long as I can recall, as long as I have known him, and I know it has been woven in my bones: I will love him for a thousand lifetimes. I swear it to every god who will hear me. I swear it upon the threads of fate. He will always be mine, and I will always be his. We were not meant to be apart. I will not live if he is not there to live alongside me.

Fate is cruel, but I am crueler when I am torn from him.

I have always be afraid of my fate. My pride is stripped from me, and I will admit it now before Patroclus alone. We have no secrets. He knows me inside and out; my soul lays bare at his feet. Death has frightened me for as long as I can remember, because I have always known exactly how my end would find me.

But now? Death does not induce fear within my heart, not when I know my beloved is waiting for me on the other side of the veil. The only way for me to see him once again is if I join him in the house of Hades, and for that, I must face my fate.

It is not such a difficult thing. Not after enduring this pain. Nothing can hurt even half as much as this. And so, I will do it gladly.

I blink, once. And I'm back in my body, in the cabin. Cassius is still asleep, and my breathing slowly evens as I try to recover from the memory of Achilles' greatest grief. It weighs heavily on me. It is crushing.

No wonder he didn't live long after Patroclus died. If the prophecy hadn't killed him, I'm quite certain the grief would have. A man can only live with half a heart for so long. And from the moment Patroclus' spirit left this world, Achilles was not whole again.

I look down at Cassius. Is that how it is meant to be between us, then? We know each other down to our bones and blood. Yet, at the same time, I could not say his favorite food or season. We've only just met, even though I know he's woven into me so tightly I couldn't separate him even if I tried.

Is this how Alexander felt? He was Achilles come again, and Hephaestion was Patroclus. Their love was said to be fierce. And when he died, the world paid the price. Are we always meant to be a raging fire? Burning bright, only to burn out just as fast?

No, Cassius promised, I think. This is our chance. Fate has given us a second chance. We will see it through.

Looking down at him from this angle sends a shiver down my spine. It reminds me too much of how Achilles looked down at his companion's corpse. But Cas, he's not dead. He will never be. I will do everything in my power to see to it that he doesn't meet the fate he met in his last life. I will put an end to the sorrow I have carried for so long, even if I give my life to do it.

Achilles and Alexander failed to protect their lovers. Achilles sent Patroclus to his death in his own armor, and Alexander was not at Hephaestion's side as illness took him. I will not make their mistakes. I will keep you safe.

It is a silent vow, but I feel it in every nerve ending in my body. I mean it with everything in me. In this moment, I feel I am not alone in my body. But I am still me, and the sensation is comforting this time, rather than unnerving. It is warm, and the fury that fuels me all of the sudden is directed at the Fates, should they try to tear me from the other half of my soul once again.