Under The Tree

Patroklos' arms were drenched in blood, the warm and sticky liquid coating his skin and clothes. He looked down to see a lifeless body lying beneath him, both a friend and a stark reminder of the violence and death that surrounded him. He had seen his fair share of tragedy and loss, but nothing could have prepared him for the horrors of this war.

The battlefield was a scene of chaos and destruction, with thousands of soldiers lying dead or dying all around him. The air was thick with the stench of death, and the sounds of battle echoed in his ears.

Despite the overwhelming sense of despair and hopelessness, Patroklos knew that he had to act. He couldn't just sit there and watch as more and more soldiers fell to their deaths. He had a duty to help those who were still alive, to do everything in his power to save as many lives as possible.

The days had been unseasonably warm, the sun beating down on us with a fierce intensity that left us feeling sweaty and uncomfortable. But then there was the boy with the golden hair, and his touch was like a cool breeze on a sweltering day.

We sat in the shade of an old ambrosia tree, his fingers moving gently over mine. He was teaching me how to strum the strings of his lyre as he hummed a soothing melody. The melody he hummed was a gentle, soothing tune that filled the air around us with a sense of peace and calm. His eyes were closed, his face serene as he lost himself in the music, and I could feel myself being swept away by the magic of the moment.

His hair, a bright and shining halo of gold, caught the light of the sun and shimmered like a thousand tiny stars. It was a sight to behold, one that drew the eyes and held them captive.

Once he finished his lullaby, he opened his eyes, and I was struck by their beauty. They were the colour of the ocean with little spots of green, like tiny islands amidst a vast sea. Not many people noticed them except for those who were allowed to be as close to him as I was in this moment. I was so close to him, in fact, that I could feel the warmth of his breath brush against my skin.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, now fully looking at me.

"Just you, Achilles." I replied.

"Is that all?" He question with a sympathetic grin. I knew what he was insinuating.

"Dad...it's his birthday today." My father had died a long time ago fighting in battle.

Our fathers were the closest of friends, and we spent our childhood together, learning from their example and becoming just like them. Our bond grew stronger with each passing day, and we were inseparable.

However, when my father passed away, my world was turned upside down. It was then that Achilles' father, Peleus, stepped in and took me under his wing. He treated me as if I were his own son, and I was grateful for his kindness and generosity.

Peleus was a revered king known for his fierce leadership and unwavering loyalty. Despite ruling over a relatively small kingdom, his kingdom was highly respected due to the Myrmidons, his fearless and disciplined warriors.

Their weaponry was also considered the most advanced within the Greek world. While other rulers conquered and celebrated, Peleus instead directed his efforts towards transforming his people into an unbeatable army, equipped with weapons that surpassed those of any adversary.

"Do you still miss him?" Achilles asked.

"Every day." I replied earnestly. "But every time his birthday comes, it's just...harder."

"You know... he was a great man and a greater warrior. I don't remember much of him but, Father, said he was the best he had." Achilles spoke with a sense of reverence and deep admiration.

"I know he was." Everyone would tell me how great he was and that him dying in battle was the most honourable death anyone could ask for. To me, it didn't matter. In the end, he was buried in the ground like any other man, and he was gone from my life. "But what difference does it make when he's gone from my life?"

"He died a warriors death. There is nothing better than that in this world."

Achilles rose to his feet, he stretched his arms and legs, feeling the tightness of his muscles loosen under the warmth of the sun as its rays of light danced across his face.

"Is that all life's about? Being the greatest warrior?" I asked with slight contempt in my voice.

"It's all it needs to be."

I hated it when he talked like this. When he talked about battle and the glory it comes with it. I knew there was more to him than just a warrior. He possessed a melodious voice that was almost angelic, and his musical prowess was truly remarkable. On top of that, he was an exceptional athlete, with the potential to compete in various athletic competitions. It was disheartening to think that he could channel his talents towards something constructive, rather than using them to take lives.

The day unfolded in a typical manner after that as we indulged in a sumptuous spread of delectable foods and drinks. We then proceeded to engage in vigorous training sessions, striving to hone our combat skills to perfection, in which of course Achilles was always the victor. Finally, we devoted the remaining hours to immersing ourselves in scholarly pursuits before retiring for the night.

"Are you asleep?" Achilles whispered.

Last year, when Achilles turned 13, he was faced with the important decision of selecting a companion to accompany him for the rest of his life. As his best friend, he chose me, and I readily accepted. My decision was driven by a sense of obligation to his father, who had taken me in and by my desire to safeguard my dearest friend. I was determined to ensure his safety, come what may.

Ever since that fateful day, I have remained unwaveringly by Achilles' side. My entire existence revolving around his. From the moment I rise in the morning to the times when I eat, train, and even sleep, my thoughts are consumed with his well-being. I have made it my life's mission to protect and serve him, and I do so with unwavering loyalty and dedication.

"No, I can't sleep." I replied.

"What's on your mind?" He rose from his king-sized bed and made his way towards my comparatively smaller one.

At times, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy towards the sheer size of Achilles' bed. Although mine was comfortable enough, I had to admit that his bed was a sight to behold. Despite his repeated offers to share his bed with me, I always declined with grace. Deep down, I knew that Achilles was only trying to be kind, but it wasn't right for a royal of his stature to share his bed with someone of lower rank. I was grateful for his generosity, but I also knew my place in the hierarchy and didn't want to overstep my bounds.

"Nothing important," I replied nonchalantly, trying to hide the thoughts racing through my mind.

"Come on, everything in that mind of yours is important." He complimented me, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over me. A small grin threatened to form on my lips, but I turned away so that he wouldn't see it. I knew that if he caught a glimpse of it, he would tease me mercilessly, and I wasn't in the mood for that right now.

Out of nowhere, I felt his weight press against me as he wrapped his arm around my torso. I could feel him squeezing himself into my bed, and I knew that he must have been lying in an awkward position. It was clear that he was trying to get comfortable, but I couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable myself.

"What are you doing?" I asked, feeling confused by his sudden intrusion.

"Every time I offer my bed to you, you refuse me. So, I wanted to see why yours is apparently so much better than mine." He explained, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness. I could feel his breath on my neck as he spoke, and it sent shivers down my spine. Despite my initial confusion, I couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement at his antics.

"Hmm, it's actually not bad. I might start sleeping here from now on." He continued, shuffling around in an attempt not to fall off the bed.

I couldn't help but smile at his playful behaviour, but I quickly buried my face into the softness of my pillow in an attempt to silence my chuckles. As much as I enjoyed his antics, I also didn't want to encourage them at this late hour.

After a few moments, I noticed his breathing gradually slowing down. Yet, I could still feel the soft rhythm of his breaths caressing the skin of my neck and the steady thump of his heart beating against my back. The warmth of his body against mine filled me with a sense of comfort and security, making me feel safe and content in the stillness of the night.

In a calm and measured tone, he apologized for the earlier incident, "I'm sorry about earlier today. I didn't mean to upset you." His slow and steady breaths filled the room, creating a sense of tranquillity. He acknowledged my aversion to violence and the pain I had endured through the loss of my father. However, he also emphasized the honour and purpose that came with being a warrior, including eternal fame. "Fighting and dying as a warrior means something. It's glorious and gives our lives purpose." His words were sincere and heartfelt, but the pain of my loss still lingered, making it difficult to fully accept his perspective.

I turned around to face him, his face only inches away from mine. As I spoke, I tried to convey the depth of my feelings. "I understand what you mean," I said, "but if I had to choose between my father being dead and famous or alive and a nobody, then I would choose the latter" My heart ached as I acknowledged the pain of his absence. "Because, to me, he would still be someone." I searched his eyes, hoping he would understand the depth of my emotions and see that there was more to life than glory and fame.

"I...I guess I understand," he said hesitantly, "I just don't agree."

I could sense his discomfort, but I wanted him to know that our disagreement didn't change how much I valued our relationship. "It's okay," I reassured him, "we don't have to agree on everything, or even anything at all. I will always stand by your side, no matter what." My voice was soft and gentle, conveying the depth of my commitment. "Even if we disagree on something, I will never let it destroy the bond we have." I held his gaze, hoping he could see the sincerity in my eyes and feel the warmth of my words.

As I finished speaking, he broke into a smile, and I couldn't help but smile back. "Now, can you please leave my bed?" I quipped, trying to lighten the mood, "I'm getting squeezed against the wall."

Achilles laughed but made no move to leave. "Absolutely not!" he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I just got comfortable." He shifted slightly, making himself even more at home.