Everlasting (A Greek Tragedy)

Everlasting Ch IV

   The meetings of their lips soon seized when a rather cringing scream hit the ears of Achilles. His eyes widened while his lips parted slightly. Briseis eyebrows arched as she covered her half nude body. Her hair fell loosely over her left shoulder as she rose into a stradling position on her frantic master. His eyes unglued from her curved figure and to the flailing white linen that served as a curtain to the only window in his chamber. That scream belonged to a man he was too familiar with...

  "Patroclus...", he muttered with a shaky breath. Briseis frowned and dismounted the male. She was lost for words, as she felt too guilty to encourage Achilles to investigate on his dear friend.

  Achilles quickly pulled himself to his feet and hurried out of the room. His footsteps and panting breaths seemed all to lag behind the current moment. It was as if the moment began to cloud his mind and he could not process fast enough. The anxiety and fear that his best friend and potential lover getting harmed again all counted towards his heart quickening in pace.

  "Dammit, Achilles.", he scolded himself mentally, "Why would I just allow myself to sit around idly while Patroclus was out fighting for his life?!"

  He swallowed and pushed the entrance of the fort open. The gruesome sight of soldiers stabbing, cutting and slicing one another was what greeted his blue eyes. And there were bodies- so many bodies that crowded the dirt ground that served as their arena. A few Trojan soldiers darted their gazes in Achilles' direction, and once they comprehended who he had been, they let out a battle cry and sprinted his way.

   "Kill him! Do not let him escape!"

   In a panicky retort, the prince ran to the right of the area, his intentions still fixated on searching for his friend.

   That night had been a particularly gorgeous one, for a bright full moon danced across the dark sky and lit the armor of both allies and foes. Achilles' mind seemed to tremble once again, his palms began to prespire from the terrifying thoughts that clouded his mind. Even in the slightest moments, he seemed to lose his auditory senses which soon replaced with his own heart thudding against his ribcage.

That night he had made so many mistakes, aside from Briseis, that put not only his men but his friend in great danger.

  He swore to himself that if Patroclus was dead, he'd end his pathetic life right then.

  And in that moment, he heard another yell followed by a harsh struggling. A struggle made up of depressed grunts and excruciating pain. His heart wanted nothing more than for him to hope it wasn't Patroclus and to calm down. Although the moment prevented him for doing so.

   Whilst forgetting his unnerving feelings and voiding unnecessary thoughts, his eyes lowered to see a long metal sword implanted in the cool, wet soil. A limp body hunched over it's sharp tip with twitching limbs and dripping blood. Long brunette strands flowed to cover the victim's face and somewhat muffle the thick groaning and gasping that mimicked sharp intakes of air. He winced and weakly lifted his face to meet the eyes of his friend who stared back down in immense terror.

   "Patroclus", he breathed out, his heart nearly breaking the bones of his ribcage.

   "You must run, Achilles.... The...enemies..", he coughed out tricklets of blood than ran down his lower lip. "You....have to go..."

   "I am not leaving you." He crouched down and gingerly pulled his left arm over his shoulder. Patroclus groaned loudly into his ear, warm breath hit the nape of his neck. "Do not worry... You'll make it."

   Patroclus had put so much trust into the prince in the past. Trust that counted towards the building of such a strong relationship. Such a tight bond. There hadn't been a time in which he ever doubted him. But judging from the deep gash in his stomach and the distance between them and the approaching soldiers, he was sure that this was the end of him. Even if Achilles managed to escape with him, he still knew he could die from the lost of blood...

  Achilles, however, was still capable of escaping the battle and returning home in one peice. If only he could convince him of the fact that his injuries were inevitably fatal, he could still save his friend's life.

  "Achilles....", he gasped out. It pained him to even search for the air to breathe. "You must flee...please", he begged.

  Achilles ignored his request and stared at the Trojans dragging their spears and swords along the dirt. Infuriation was drawn deeply on their faces. Their eyes burned holes into Achilles that matched an urge to end his life.

   "Dirty Greek!" One exclaimed through the slit in his bronze helmet. The others seem to clutch their weapons tighter at his interjection. It was as if they had the strongest passion to capture him and watch him suffer. To exterminate him like a pest that wouldn't crawl away. The cause of their anarchy marvelled because of his very existence and he had not even personally hurt any of them. Sure he was a great warrior that proved to be a formidable opponent, but this hadn't given them enough reason to hate his guts.

   And then it occured to the prince; they wanted him dead, not Patroclus. In a small chance, he could still save his friend's life...

  Achilles paused to lay Patroclus back into the cool dirt and stood on his feet. Panick soon swept the older male as to what the prince was doing. He wanted to yell out for him to stop and run while he still had the chance, but he couldn't inhale without feeling the harsh blade dig deeper into his abdomen.

  "If it is me that you want, take my life but spare his."

  A rather husky Trojan chuckled at Achilles' bravery and lifted his sword. Judging by his height and intimidating demeanor, it was no doubt he served as their general."Spare him, he says!" He gave Achilles a cold, stern glare. "Because of you, our people have been murdered and tortured! Our children have been exiled and put in rusty cages! Our wives and daughters serves as your concubines and you rape them each night! Why would we spare a dirty, fuck of an asshole like YOU?!"

  Before the prince could part his quivering lips, the side of a sharp blade met the side of his head and he flew to the ground with a rough thud. Patroclus' eyes grew as he watched him fall, his fingers twitching in an attempt to move and help him. Yet he felt paralyzed under the surges of pain and light sensation of his conscious fading off. His eyelids grew heavier as small drops of rain began to poke his bloody cheek.

  Emerald eyes clogged with tears as they watched Achilles get dragged away by their enemies. The rain picked up by each passing second before darkness took over Patroclus' vision completely.