ENCORE! finnick odair

COMMENCE !

note: graphic depictions of violence and death

Achilles, hero of Troy, should have never been dipped into the waters of the Styx. The Styx was a confounding river, its promises of invulnerability only marred with a singular, fatal, exception. Thetis, his mother, was foolish enough to believe that a single weakness was acceptable if the rest of him was invulnerable. Foolish woman! Blinded by a mother's love, she didn't heed the warnings, hoping and praying that impenetrability with a singular exception would be enough to save him from a violent death.

Oh, Thetis! Even a single vulnerability can be fatal, didn't you know? Your efforts were doomed from the start! Your son will die from a singular arrow aimed at his heel. A chink in a bulletproof suit of armor is still a chink, something that, if found, is oh so easy to exploit. Achilles, hero of Troy, the unassailable, the invincible — fated to die a martyr. Learn this lesson, Thetis: A single vulnerability is no better than multiple ones. After all, there is a reason only Achilles's weakness is remembered, right? The Achilles tendon is the sole remnant of his tragedy — a stark reminder that vulnerability is never to be tolerated. A mockery of Achilles's failures — that is his legacy, and it is all because of you, Thetis.

Thetis, you poor fool. Vulnerability, even in just the heel, is unacceptable. But, you have learned your lesson now, haven't you?

The Achilles heel was the first part severed from the body of Achille Valentius.

Then came the knees. House Valentius was very particular, of course, about the order of each limb severed. After all, if one vulnerability was exploited, numerous others would reveal themselves, would they not? The knees were the joints, the chinks in the armor previously hidden and impenetrable. The heel is amputated with a helpless scream, but that is just the beginning. A single chink exposed — and so many more to follow. But oh, Thetis, you fool. The river Styx is not your friend, and neither are the promises it gave you — a single vulnerability is no lesser than multiple. And so, the knees were severed as well.

Then the hands – fingers first, one by one, with a paring knife. Achille, you loved to cook, did you not? Foolish boy, just like your mother. You chopped tomatoes, onions, and potatoes like it was all good fun, and this same knife will do that to your fingers. They are little stumps now, can't you see? One, two, three... don't cry now, Achille, it is far too late to cry. No, Achille Valentius, you should have cried the very moment you allowed yourself a single vulnerability, for that was your signature on the chopping block, ensuring this painful death. The fingers flopped on the floor like little sausages, raw and bleeding. Chop, chop, chop... The fingers are done now, Achille, do not worry. Look, Achille! Ten little red stubs, bleeding profusely from the cut! You're crying now, fool. House Valentius does not tolerate such childishness, or have you forgotten in the fog of the pain? Achille Valentius, you truly are still a child.

Chop! And then there were two, hands amputated as well into red, bleeding stumps. Achille! Do not scream, you fool, you have brought this upon yourself. It was written in the picking of your name, was it not? You should have been careful, Achille. You should have melted your suit together, ensured there wasnt a single opening, a single chink in your armor. Achille, you learnt far too late that vulnerability is unacceptable, just like Achilles. But history repeats itself, brother, and now you lie in wait of a painful demise.

The arm falls next.

Do not scream, Achille.

The knife must be changed now.

Your paring knife is ruined, Achille. But you will cook with it no more, so it does not matter, I suppose.

What is next... Achille, brother, I forget. Remind me, Achille, please. An act of mercy for your sister, I beg you, Achille! You may die, but Achille, brother, please, I must survive.