Troy's Last Chance

Chapter 3- Achilles

How could I have been so foolish?

I'd expected this plan to fail since Farrah first proposed it. Of course, they weren't there on time. Farrah was supposed to be hidden along the sidelines- prepared to step in and rescue Borealis at any given moment. No matter how much I really did not want her to be rescued. But, I couldn't bear the idea of The Pinnacle ratting me out to the king. It's one thing for the Trojan royalty to catch me in disguise- but for them to find the infamous Achilles, my reputation would crumble. They would beat me to a pulp, let me heal a bit, then repeat that sequence for a year. After that, they would abandon me to die outside of a lions' cave, unarmed and fatally wounded. I could probably kill a lion or two with my own bare hands, considering my impeccable strength. But, not even I could take on a whole pack of lions in that kind of state.

Besides, if they were to seize me, it would be because I'd surrender myself. With pride and without fear. Someone catching me would be humiliating. Not like I ever would surrender though.

Unfortunate for The Pinnacle, they seized Borealis. And, by now, I bet she's already chained up three floors below ground level. At least, Prince Hector was in a better mood. He didn't have his soldiers kill her on sight. I suppose we're lucky enough.

Now it's my job to go get her out. Ugh, I'm all too familiar with those grimy, dungeon walls. After years of being thrown in there, then escaping again, it grows old and tedious.

About time for an additional acquaintance with that disgusting place, I suppose.

Earlier that day, I'd already caused some mischief. Not much, but enough to cure my mid-morning boredom. Unlatching the stable horses' gates, ultimately letting them run loose on castle grounds. All the while, watching palace guards scamper around hopelessly trying to round them up again. Half an hour later, I left because it started to lack my interest.

This was going to be easy. All I had to do was turn myself in, although that's the last thing I expected to do that day.

I reached into the pocket of the white cloak that draped over my head, shoulders and entire body. My fingers grasped a stone half the size of my palm. One side was rough and unpolished, the other, smooth with enamel. I squeezed my eyes shut, pictured Dalton's extravagant dressing room with a closet for each garment imaginable. Despite how much I despised dressing up in queer getups, I needed a disguise.

For less than a second, I was nowhere besides everywhere in the brilliant Current of Colors- also known as the Space Time Continuum. After years of this, one gets accustomed to the fierce pressure of it all. Adrenaline had blood pounding in my ears. I never let go of the stone, that would be careless and deadly. My grip only firmed.

A moment later, I was sprawled across the dressing room floor. Fluorescents glared at me like a dozen pale, resentful faces. The space was tidy: hats on shelves, shirts on hangers, pants neatly folded- I immediately began rummaging through a cabinet that was once filled with files, but now only contained wigs. I tossed the moderate-looking ones on the floor in a massive pile. I finally found the perfect one, black, hideous, and terribly trimmed-nothing like my own attractive, golden locks. Perfect.

I tucked my hair in the awful thing and threw on a pair of random khakis and a green button-up shirt. About my shoes- I couldn't possibly care less.

I heaved a sigh. I should let that damn girl fend for herself. She deserved It.

For a moment, I considered it. Then I thought nah. I may be devious... but I'm not evil.