As the siege of Troy comes to an end, two Gods say goodbye to their favoured champion.
Broken bodies littered the field. A path of seemingly endless blood, bronze, and violence stretched out before Athena.
In the distance was the fabled city of Troy, its walls standing defiantly against the combined might of Greece. Against the combined might of her people.
She walked forwards and followed the path of devastation and brutality, knowing what would lay at the end of it. It was something she was in no hurry to discover.
“Water,” a voice croaked.
Athena glanced at her feet and saw a battered hoplite in the final moments of his life. His hands were shaking as he extended them and his eyes were glazed over, likely not even comprehending who he was talking to.
His armour was caked in filth and his bronze skirt covered in a sheen of red blood. A spear had punctured his leg, in the thigh, and slowly his essence was leaking out. It was an ugly sight to behold but very much the sight of war.
“Water,” he repeated, sounding even more desperate.
Athena knelt beside him and threw a prayer to her uncle, Poseidon, hoping that he retained enough of a presence in this region to grant her his boon. Even if it was only temporary. Thankfully, water did materialize in her palms as she held them before the man’s lips.
He drank from it with greed. Thankfully, her supply would never dry.
When he finished, she drew her hands away and got back to her feet.
“A shame,” a familiar god said from behind her.
She turned and saw Ares. In his hands was the spear of one of the many fallen hoplites. He examined it closely and gave it a toss in the air as if it were a child’s toy.
“What are you doing here?” Athena asked.
She wished that her voice bore even an ounce of hostility. But all she felt was a raw numbness.
Ares smiled. “You are not the only God of War on Olympus, dear. I’ve come to assess the carnage our conflict has inflicted.”
“It wasn’t supposed to end like this,” Athena said, shaking her head. “This isn’t war this is…”
“A slaughter?” Ares asked. He stepped towards her. “A tragedy, a brawl?” He snorted. “What did you think would happen? That your superior tactics would win the day without bloodshed and our brave men would return home alive and well as if this were just a mere adventure across the Aegean?”
He scoffed and made his way forwards, following the line of blood through the valley of corpses. It would seem like they had a very similar destination in mind.
Athena looked back to the fallen trooper. It would seem that he had finally slipped into unconsciousness. She sighed and produced two coins, placing them within the palm of his hand instead of over his eyes. She didn’t trust that they would remain there.
Maybe it wasn’t quite customary but she doubted that Charon would turn down perfectly good coins.
She then followed after her brother.
“I didn’t think it would be this gruesome,” she said.
Ares shook his head. “It is always this gruesome and it will remain this gruesome for as long as man can craft spears and justifications to slaughter one another.”
More bodies littered the path. Though their number started to decrease. Whoever had cut this swathe of gore had clearly started to run out of steam at this point. Yet, even in a tired state they still proved to be an effective butcher.
“The Greeks, and you, seem to believe that by simply ignoring me, the consequences of what I represent will merely go away,” Ares said, motioning with his hand. “But I do not need to be worshipped to be proven correct.”
“You did this?” Athena asked.
Ares shook his head. “Men did this in my name.”
He motioned to a row of bodies left shattered in a riverbed they crossed. The waters were stagnant and tinted red. “The generals look to you because they want an edge. But the common foot soldier? They look to me. They want bravery and rage, they want the power to win their duel, not the foresight to set in motion some grand tactical maneuver.”
“But soldiers wouldn’t be driven into combat if it were not for their general’s orders,” Athena said.
Ares smirked. “I don’t think that’s the brag you intended it to be.” He glanced at her. “You send men to die, I merely give a lucky few the strength to survive.”
Athena shook her head and tried to muster a response but sadly none seemed to materialize in its place. It was infuriating.
“This conversation bores me,” she grumbled.
Ares motioned forwards and they continued, heading to a small oasis situated behind the battlefield.
He was silent for a moment.
“You’re judging me,” Athena said, gritting her teeth.
Ares shook his head. “You have suffered no fault, dear sister. It was our petty family up on their golden mountain who caused such tragedy. Your tactics are not to be blamed.”
“Nor is your rage,” Athena admitted.
“But sometimes even the strongest of warriors and even the brightest of generals fail,” Ares commented. “The Trojans, and their gods, have proven more than a match for us.”
“So many great men,” Athena whispered, looking all around her.
Ares nodded. “Our uncle will have much work ahead of him down in the underworld. I would pity him but I know that he enjoys the work.”
“How can anyone possibly enjoy this?” Athena whispered.
“This?” Ares asked, looking around. “I doubt Lord Hades has any concept of what this is like. All he knows is his neat little lines in his well-kept ledgers. To him a massacre means nothing but a busy work week.”
“Are you…” Athena started.
Ares nodded. “Here to see Achilles?”
“You felt it too I suppose?” Athena asked.
“I guess it’s one of the rare instances where we converge,” Ares said, snorting. “A fine warrior and a grand tactician. It’s rare that we ever get both of them in a single figure.”
They continued forwards, growing ever closer to the oasis. And as they neared it, the amount of carnage and blood faded.
Once they reached the edge, where sand gave way to grass, there wasn’t a broken body left.
Well except for the one who laid against a tree near the water. A man adorned in some of the finest bronze that Athena had ever seen.
He remained alive, though barely, looking absently at the sky.
Athena approached though she did so alone. As she looked over her shoulder, she saw that Ares did not follow. That would be a question that could wait for later.
The man, Achilles, heard her and forced his gaze away from the sky.
He offered a grim smile. “Goddess.”
“Achilles,” Athena greeted. “I…”
“Have come to see me go?” he finished.
Athena nodded slowly.
She looked him over and noticed that he was remarkably untouched. The only wound seemed to be an arrow embedded through the heel of his foot. Yet, even this bled at quite a rate.
“I…” Achilles worked his jaw. “I was a fool.”
“So was I,” Athena said.
Achilles jerked back, looking quite alarmed.
“We are not flawless figures on Olympus,” Athena said. “And you… you’ve lost your life because of that.” She shook her head and looked back at the carnage. “So many good men have lost their lives because of that.”
“You did not cause my demise,” Achilles said. “The fault is only my own.”
Athena was about to speak but Achilles held up his hand, silencing her.
She was taken aback. No mortal had ever acted so brass before.
“I showed cowardice and a stubbornness that will surely go down in history,” Achilles said. “My unwillingness to fight cost me my dearest companion and now it has cost me my life.”
He moved his leg, though grimaced as the arrow brushed against the earth and irritated the wound.
“Did you know that Paris is quite the shot?” Achilles asked, chuckling. “Shame that Artemis is not here or I would chastise her for that.”
Athena smiled. “I’ll make sure to let her know.”
“Ares!” Achilles called, finally noticing the other god lingering on the edge. “Did you merely come to gawk.”
Athena blinked, taken away by how bold this warrior was. He was in the company of gods though that didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest.
Her brother stirred and made his way over. “You fought well.”
“But Paris fought better,” Achilles chided.
“You’ll be remembered throughout the ages,” Ares commented. “That I’m sure of.”
Achilles smirked. “A terrifying thought. What will they remember? My cowardice, how I let my… my…”
“Lover,” Athena quipped, smirking at him. “Aphrodite has incredibly loose lips.”
“In both definitions of the phrase,” Ares grumbled.
Athena shot him a look but he merely shrugged, looking utterly shameless.
“Will they remember how I let him die?” Achilles asked.
“Maybe,” Athena said. “Or maybe they will discuss the path of destruction and rapture you cut in the name of avenging him. I am unfortunately not an Oracle.”
Ares nodded. “It is quite an effective deed. You fought well and you fought for the right reasons.”
Achilles smirked. “Sorry if I don’t quite find that comforting.” He sighed. “Do you think I’ll see him again?”
Ares frowned and looked away.
Athena, on the other hand, knelt beside him and took his hand within her own. “That is up to Hades to decide. But I believe both of you have earned your spots in Elysium.”
“I pray that you are right,” Achilles whispered.
He glanced down at his wounded leg and bit his lip.
“Would you be willing to do me a favour?” he asked.
Athena nodded. “Anything.”
“I would much rather die swiftly than slowly wither away in this oasis.” Achilles nodded towards his wound. “Could you remove the arrow for me.”
Athena paled but thankfully Ares knelt beside her.
He smirked and placed his hand upon the warrior’s shoulder. “I have never ended a finer life.”
With surprising care, he gripped the arrow. He then held up his other hand, counting down from five.
When he reached two, Achilles drew in a breath and held it.
“Zero,” Ares said.
He ripped the arrow out and Achilles screamed at the top of his lungs. Though it would be the final hollow of his life. Soon, the wound bled with more vigour, spilling his precious essence upon the grass.
The two gods stayed by his side for those final minutes, watching as the life slowly faded from his eyes.
It didn’t take even five minutes before he finally went still, his gaze hollow and cast towards the sky.
Athena looked at Ares and him back at her. Together they nodded and each produced a coin, placing it over Achilles’ lifeless eyes.
“Are we growing sentimental?” Ares asked.
Athena shook her head. “If we were, we’d never have let this happen.” She sighed. “What is mercy to one mortal when so many more are well…”
She motioned around them.
Ares nodded and got to his feet. “I’d say goodbye and claim that I wished to see you again but…” He chuckled darkly. “We have a nasty habit of meeting like this.”
“The feeling is mutual, brother,” Athena said. “But may our next meeting hopefully be under better circumstances.”
Ares simply snorted and walked away.
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