Name One Hero Who Was Happy

“Go” She says. “He waits for you.” Those are the last words I hear before my soul finally leaves the world of the living. Everything around me is dark and for a moment I thought that that was it, Thetis had written my name next to his and I would be reunited with him once more. It was stupid of me to think that. I had forgotten what each Greek child knew: death is only the beginning of your journey through the underworld. There were judges to convince that you truly deserved rest. And that is what I did. Even though my name had not initially been written on the monument, there were enough coins for both me and Achilles. We would both be able to pay Charon to take us across the Styx. Charon was something that you would see in nightmares, despite that I ignored all of my natural instincts to run. I paid him and got on board of his ferry with the other souls wanting to be taken to the other side of the river. I managed to get closer to him and asked him if he had brought Achilles to the other side. He looked at me with empty eyes. “No, son of Menoetius, Aristos Achaion did not make use of my ferry.” After that he had turned around and focused on the river, leaving me with more questions than before. I did not know what was more unsettling, the fact that he called me by my father’s name -the first time since my exile- or that Achilles had not crossed the Styx. How was that even possible?

The judged had the answer for me. Minos, Rhadamanthus and Aeacus looked down upon me. “Patroclus, son of Menoetius,” It was Aeacus who had spoken. “Not many men can say that their name was carved in stone by the hands of a goddess.” I simply shrugged. “I would have preferred a mortal to do it, if it had meant coming here sooner.” The conversation after that was short, for the judges knew every part of my life. They knew everything about everyone. They had told me that, because he was a hero, Achilles had gone to Elysium the moment he had been buried. No trial needed. I knew I wasn’t a hero. Yes, I may have killed a Trojan general and with that changed the course of the war, but no one had remembered my name, no one told storied about my deeds. I was a nobody, a nobody with innocent blood on his hands, a child’s blood. The judges started to argue; Minos and Aeacus thought I should go to the fields of Asphodel, Rhadamanthus on the other hand thought I did not deserve such thing. He was loud and clear, I belonged in the fields of punishment. I was lucky, two against one. I would go to the fields of Asphodel, every sane person would have been thankful. I was not. I had to see my Achilles again. “No.” I said, my voice laced with confidence I did not have. “No?” Echoed Minos. “No,” I said again. “I go wherever Achilles goes.” I still cannot believe that the judges didn’t throw me straight into Tartarus. Instead, I could read some form of amusement in their eyes. They exchanged looks, a silent conversation between the three of them. “Fine then, we will let you try.” Rhadamanthus announced. “Bring your case to Kronos, he will decide if you’ll be allowed in or not.” They may not have given me permission to go in, but they did give me the second best thing: a chance.

So here I am, standing before the pillars that were the gateway to the fields of Elysium. “It cannot be that easy.” I mutter to myself as I walk towards the pillars. And indeed, the moment I want to pass them I get knocked off my feet and fly a few feet backwards. “Who dares to walk into Elysium without my permission?” A low voice booms across the fields, making the ground shake. I can only imagine the judges watching me, like this is the most interesting thing that happened to them in years. It probably is. “My name is Patroclus, son of Menoetius.” I say quickly, the name of my father tastes weird on my tongue. “You do not belong here, you have not been judged.” I swallow. “The judges, they have send me to speak with Kronos, the ruler of Elysium.” All of the sudden a man appears in front of me, at least 10 feet tall. “I am Kronos, with what purpose did the judges send you, other than to torment me?” I take a deep breath, even Thetis had never been so intimidating, but of course she was only a minor goddess. “To convince you to let me into Elysium, the judges gave me a chance to take my case to you.” Just as sudden as he had appeared a throne came out of the emptiness where Kronos took place. “Alright then, son of Menoetius, why should I let you in?” Somehow his voice seemed softer now, though it was still just as intimidating as a few moments ago.

“I believe I belong in Elysium.” “And what heroic deeds have you done?” He asked in a monotone voice. He looks down at me and I feel myself smaller than ever before. Nevertheless, I say what I practiced on my way here. “I have saved the lives of many soldiers by giving them courage in their fight against the Trojan army.” It didn’t come naturally to me, talking so highly of myself, but for my Achilles I’m willing to name every good thing I’ve ever done. “I have killed Sarpedon, one of, the heroes of Troy and I have healed thousands of men and women who asked for my help.” Kronos did not seem impressed. “I know what you have done, son of Menoetius, I also know that you took an innocent life in your youth, why shouldn’t I send you to the fields of Punishment right this instant?” His voice alone send shivers down my spine. Even so I cannot back down, not now I’m so close. “I regret it.” I say with a shaky voice. “I have paid the price for my crime with disinheritage and exile” I have to choose my next words carefully. “and however it may not be an excuse of undo the child’s death, I have also saved many lives. I believe that is at least worth a pardon.” Kronos clicks his tongue. “Do you think yourself a judge now?” I quickly shake my head. “Of course not, I only speak in my own defense, for no one else shall.” Kronos’ penetrating glare intensifies with each passing second. “Assuming that your crime is forgiven,” he says slowly. “the best you can hope for is the fields of Asphodel. Elysium is reserved for those whose names are remembered, yours, son of Menoetius, has been forgotten.”

The panic I had been trying to suppress finally came to the surface, I feel tears well up in my eyes and it takes everything in me not to fall on my knees. “Please,” My voice is desperate, but I don’t care. “the only reason I’m here is because I want to be reunited with my philtatos. I am sure that he wishes the same, please.” My voice is shaking and it’s getting harder to keep control over my body. “If you don’t want to do it for me then do it for him.” Kronos tilts his head. “You speak of Achilles.” I nod, my Achilles. “It's unfortunate, the man does nothing but mope around, no matter my best efforts. The only thing he asks for is you.” He looks back at me. “Don’t look so surprised, I know everything about you, about him. Yet I cannot allow you to enter Elysium.” Kronos sighs. “It does not matter what he wants, if a soul does not belong in Elysium, then it simply does not belong. The fields of Elysium are reserved for heroes, not heroes and their friends.”

That was it.

I can’t help myself, I fall on my knees and let the tears flow. I would never see him again. My philtatos, my Achilles.