Story 1/Aristos Achaion

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by BlausBug

by BlausBug

(Based off the tale of Achilles and Patroclus when Patroclus dies and Achilles is left to grieve :))

Burning. That's all he could think, feel. Hands gripped tightly on a neatly woven spear, its tip glittering crimson against the suns burning rays. Rage. His footsteps barely brushed the ground, bodies fall before him, 'Achilles.' He whispers- the haunting voice, the same song-like voice that once whispered to him at night.

'Achilles.'

Another body fell.

More charged.

He had always wondered what insanity had truly felt like, he heard tales, seen it, but he never actually experienced it. And oh how it was beautiful. Flames ate up his insides, if he hadn't known better he would have thought someone had gutted him, ripped his heart out. 'Achilles', the voice chants, faster, faster, more bodies fall.

There is no point in hiding. he thinks as more bodies fall, his gaze scans, a blurry haze of a red battlefield, "Hector." His own voice sounds strange against his lips, the name is poison against his tongue, he is fire himself, the wind, anger, ice, insanity. The ache in his limbs feels like a medal, he has lost feel, if he is to die he will die with revenge. "Hector!" His throat is dry with his cries, still he screams the poison, his legs thunder like a thoroughbred let loose to run.

'Achilles.'

Red.

Hector.

Patroclus

Patroclus.

The world screams, it shakes, the gods above watch in disgust, horror, distaste, Hector falls, blood spills, a prophesied death. Hours past into days, the madness is sickening, even Akhyls' winces at the sight of a decaying body of a noble hero being dragged from the back of chariot wheels, led by the Aristos Achaion himself.

'Achilles.'

'Enough.' It is not enough though, he runs, the river is cold beneath his feet, the river stands no chance.

When the arrow fires, when Apollo watches below with pride the world lets out a breath, the air seems to cool, Aristos Achaion falls through the earth, past the light, past the darkness, overcome with relief and peace he falls gently into the long waiting hands.

'Come home.'