— FACE : can yaman, kivanc tatilug, engin ozturk.
While still in your infancy you learned that there is no pardon for injustice. No ruler, no warrior is great enough to be justified cruelty; no mortal or God exempt from the laws of fate. These lessons would steer your life's course: be strong, be valiant, but above all be good. Offer hospitality, lend mercy—prize less what men say of you than what they give for your sake, what they suffer for your glory. To rule means to embody a sacrifice, a decked bull led up the ramp; not one time, but always. You saw it in your father, in all the other leaders who lived & died in his shadow, without resentment, with nothing but honor. When they gathered together, you thought Elysium itself must look like this. And that image was not blunted as the years passed. You understood more, oh, that much is true. Temptation & guilt began to have their own tune, their own part to play in the tapestry. But the essence of greatness remained; it was imprinted on you as if from a bevel. Until a year ago, when the lost son returned, thrashing through the mud everything you considered honorable.
✹ PARIS — What is it you truly begrudge them—stealing your father from you, or the image you had of him ? Seeing the King of Troy bend to the council of this brat, this so called shepherd's son, was unthinkable at first. Then it simply began to be the ordinary. Is it the favor of the goddess that makes others heed them so ? Like a soul possessed, they insist on remaining in Sparta when everyone knows it can only lead to dust.
✹ HECUBA — The words you never said, should it bring her more pain & you more dishonor than could be erased in this life: you say Paris is yours, but is the child also my father's? Instead, you appeal to her to advise leaving, retreating from a competition you all stand no chance to win. Quell the folly which smothers Priam's judgement. But her love for Paris runs so deeply, so ardent, you dread it will bring fire onto all of Troy.
✹ ANDROMACHE — It was a political union, wrought for the riches of once-great Thebes. That word meant nothing: as a king's son, everything you did was political, destined to reverberate along the way. You made your peace, hardly expecting to be rewarded for it. They are the perfect consort, but how dismayed by those prophecies ! You appease every fear. In silence, you hope to live long enough to prove them wrong.
✹ APOLLO — You find it odd, that such a twofold God, fusing salvation with ferocity in a blaze of fire, could lend you their protection. You never served at their altar ; if you brought them offerings, it was only as much as befitted their status. You always thought a simpler deity will claim you. But then they approached, clad in plated armor, gleaming so harshly you thought it was your funeral pyre. It was formidable; it was everything.
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