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⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷《 ✮ 》⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷
DAWN BROKE OVER Troy, casting a gentle light through the palace windows as you and the other servants began their work. The grand hall, once filled with laughter and music, now lay quiet and still, a testament to the revelry of the previous night. The remnants of the celebration were scattered about—goblets overturned, half-eaten plates of food, and garlands of flowers wilting on the floor.
You moved through the hall with a practiced grace, your hands deftly collecting the debris. Around you, other servants worked diligently, their movements swift and efficient. The chatter among them was low, the usual gossip and complaints mingling with the sounds of clinking metal and rustling cloth.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as the threat of the war loomed ever closer. The once-bustling city of Troy now bore a tense atmosphere, the shadow of impending conflict hanging heavy in the air. The servants continued their work, their conversations often drifting to the topic that consumed everyone's thoughts—what would become of us?
One day, as you and a group of servants gathered at the river to wash clothes, the topic arose again. The sun shone brightly overhead, but the mood was somber, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on them.
"When will this war end? I only 8 when it started," You wondered aloud, voice barely rising above the sound of the water as she scrubbed a piece of fabric. "It feels like it's been dragging on forever."
An older slave named Cassia, her hands wrinkled and worn from years of labor, nodded in agreement. "It does seem endless, doesn't it? But I've heard whispers..."
Your ears perked up. "Whispers? About what?"
Cassia glanced around, ensuring no one else was listening too closely. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I heard from one of the kitchen boys that a scout returned with news. He says the Greeks are building something—a giant wooden horse. They believe it's an offering to the Gods, to ensure their safe passage back home."
A murmur of interest rippled through the group. Another servant, a young man named Lycon, frowned. "A horse? That seems... unusual. Why would they build such a thing?"
Cassia shrugged, her expression thoughtful. "Who knows? The Greeks are a strange lot. But if it's true, perhaps it means they're planning to leave soon. Maybe the end of the war is finally in sight."
You considered this, her mind racing. The idea of the Greeks surrendering and leaving seemed almost too good to be true. Could it really be possible that peace was within reach?
