Closed starter for @itswasteland
I’m coming Patroclus Achilles thought as pain over took him, Patroclus, Patroclus, Patroclus.
Achilles expected the pain to fade, surly he would not be in pain for the rest of eternity. He had spent nights with Patroclus asleep by his side thinking about what Charon might say to him, imagining the River Styx. How he would meet those who’d gone before him, what he would say to the Heroes his father had known.
How soon will I know? Achilles could not help but wonder, the pain was not gone. He could not open his eyes.
I thought the undead waited on the bank he thought, where are the others? Where is the river?
It hurts so bad Patroclus, but I am coming, not even the gods can keep me from you now. Not even mighty Zeus will keep me from you. Patroclus, Patroclus Patroclus
There was a man more beautiful than anyone else Achilles had ever seen. The beads in his dreadlocks caught the light, flashing with every tiny movement the man made. The light around them seemed golden making the man’s dark skin glow. There was a quiver slung over the man’s shoulder, a bow in one hand, a lyre at his feet. The man’s face looked almost guilty, but determined. He nodded at Achilles, a knowing look in his eye.
The first thing Achilles noticed was the light. It was so bright it burned his eyes even behind his eyelids, brighter than the midday sun. The second thing he noticed was the noise, loud and terrifying. He kept his hands at his side, the gods knew his father had trained that into him, no matter how badly he wanted to cover his ears. Where was his helmet, to dim the noise of battle around him. Where were the noises of battle?
When he opened his eyes nothing made sense. He did not recognize any of the people around him. Did not recognize the building or the furniture. He closed his eyes, glad that the harsh light and horrible noises were fading out, fading away.
Achilles woke up, on his back. He kept his eyes clenched closed, the memory of before still seemed too fresh in his mind. Unfortunately keeping his eyes closed did not keep the noises out. There was a short repetitive noise, if Achilles focused he thought the noise might have been his heartbeat, but when had his heart beat sounded outside of his body? There was a noise like the wind, but he could not feel the wind. Where were the birds? the noise of his army on the other side of his tent?
He reached his hand out to the side, Patroclus. The short repetitive noise picked back up as Achilles’ eyes shot open. The light was brighter, more harsh, than any midday sun, his surroundings did not make any sense to him. But more than that he could not find Patroclus. He pulled at the thing in his arm, his eyes searching the room, not trying to make sense of what he saw around him, he was in looking for his lover. where was he?
A noise to his right caught his attention. The short staccato sound slowed, as Achilles took in the man in the door. His first thought was that he could take this man in a fight, the next thought was that this man was not someone Achilles wanted or needed to fight. He took a steadying breath, before struggling to sit up, only now realizing the wounds he bore. Still, he sat up, if he could not rise to meet this stranger, he would do what he could.
“I am Achilles, son of Peleus and Thetis. Who, stranger, are you?”
