𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑 ᵉᵖⁱᶜ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜᵃˡ

˚＊✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・⚔️・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ＊˚

Chapter 19. VENGEANCE'S TIDE

❝For the mighty hubris in the end brings forth the mighty Ate.❞

˚＊✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・⚔️・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ＊˚

The days following Patroclus' death felt like an eternity.

Nearly a week had passed since the flames of his funeral pyre licked the sky, and yet the weight of his absence remained palpable. The once-vivid camp was drenched in a mournful haze, its soldiers moving like shadows-hollow and silent.

Achilles remained confined to his tent.

Absence of his fiery presence was a gap amongst the Greeks, a void filled only by whispers of mourning and muted preparations for what's to come.

You hadn't seen him since the night you'd discovered Patroclus' body. The memory lingered like a bruise, sharp and aching every time it crossed your mind.

The sight of him broken and shattered haunted you. Not even Penelope's quiet company or the rare moments of conversation you shared with Briseis could replace what he left behind.

But the war didn't pause for grief.

With the Myrmidons' Second-in-Command gone and their leader a ghost of himself, Penelope and Diomedes had finally relented-your punishment was over. Every able body was needed now that the Trojans had grown bold in Hector's rise to dominance.

Yet even as you fought, the whispers of Patroclus' final moments lingered in the back of your mind. Snatches of hushed conversations followed you; soldiers' words stitching together the tale of his death like a tragic ballad.

"He donned Achilles's armor..."
"He drove the Trojans back like a storm..."
"He killed Sarpedon, Zeus' own son. Imagine the bravery..."
"But then he went too far...he attacked the walls of Troy."
"Apollo struck him-"
"Hector delivered the killing blow."
"Patroclus' dying words-he swore Achilles would avenge him..."

Fragments spun in your head as you cut down another Trojan soldier, your blade slicing through flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter. You didn't even notice the soldier lunging toward you until a sharp shout tore through the chaos.

"____!"

You barely registered the voice in time, instinct jerking your body aside as a spear grazed your shoulder. Pivoting, you slash the Trojan across the chest, sending him to the dirt.

Turning, you find Eurylochus standing beside you, his sword beheading the fallen man, face as impassive as ever with brows drawn tight in irritation. "Focus," he scolds, his voice a low growl. "You can't afford to hesitate. Not here. Not now."

You nod while biting back a retort. He was right, as always.

Giving you a curt nod of his own, Eurylochus goes back into the fight, his sword cutting down another Trojan with brutal efficiency.

Renewed with determination, you shake off the momentary lapse and charged forward once more.

It was a complete frenzy-men shouting, weapons clashing, blood soaking into the earth. The river Scamander flowed red, the water tainted with the lives lost in this third and (Gods willing) final battle along its banks.

In a blur of movements your blade hit its mark again and again. Each strike wasn't just for survival-it was for Patroclus, for the Greeks, for every comrade who had fallen.

Each step forward felt like an eternity.

Somehow you found yourself alongside Penelope and Diomedes. The three of you carved a path through the enemy ranks; Penelope as her blade cut through the air like poetry, Diomedes as a whirlwind of destruction and punishing attacks.

Even so, it wasn't enough. With every man you cut down two more seemed to appeared in their place. And by the sounds around, the others were experiencing the same. Over the clamor you shout. "They're pushing us back! Our men are weakening!"

Diomedes growled in frustration, deflecting a spear with his shield. "Hold the line! If we give them an inch they'll take the whole damn river!"

Before anyone could respond a deafening roar split the air-so loud and ferocious it seemed to shake you to your very core. Every head turned toward the source of the sound causing the Trojans ahead of you to stumble, their formation breaking as they tried to make sense of the chaos.

And then you saw him.

Achilles.

He tore through the Trojans like a thunderbolt, his movements a blur of devastating raw power. With each swing of his spear bodies crumpled to the ground.

Men were flung aside as though they weighed nothing, their shields and weapons shattering under his assault.

His new armor resembled molten gold under the fading sunlight. The armor was a masterpiece-both terrifying and mesmerizing.

The breastplate shimmered with an otherworldly brilliance as the helmet bore the likeness of a snarling lion, its eyes burning with the promise of vengeance. Even the shield on his arm seemed alive, etched with symbols of flames and war.

Gone was the shroud of mourning that had enveloped Achilles for the past week.

In its place burned a fire so intense it seemed to consume everything in its path. His face was a mask of fury, his mouth bellowing one name over and over.

"HECTOR!" The Prince of the Phthia roared, his voice shaking the very ground. "FACE ME YOU COWARD!"

The reaction among the Trojans was immediate.

Panic swept through their ranks as soldiers scrambled to retreat, some abandoning their weapons entirely. Yet a cluster of them rallied together to form a protective wall. Gaze following their movements, you spot him amidst the bodies.

Hector.

The Trojan prince stood tall amidst his men, his dark hair damp with sweat and dirt streaking his olive-toned skin. His expression was firm, his jaw set in determination.

But even from this distance you caught the flicker of uncertainty that crossed his face when he saw Achilles.

You couldn't blame him. Achilles was no longer the man he had been a week ago. He was vengeance incarnate-a storm given form.

Hector had every reason to be afraid.

"Looks like the tides are turning in our favor," you muttered, slicing through a distracted Trojan soldier.

Despite the sarcasm in your tone a part of you felt the truth of those words. Achilles' arrival has changed everything.

But as you fought on you couldn't shake the unease that lingered in your chest.

You began to wonder what would it take before this endless cycle of bloodshed and grief finally end.

After all, war always demanded more.

*･:*:★☽✧⚔️✧☾★:*:･*

The makeshift Greek camp along the banks of the Scamander River was a grim sight.

Wounded soldiers lay sprawled on hastily constructed pallets, their groans of pain barely audible over the murmur of healers as the occasional sound of a sword being sharpened or whispered prayers added to the tense atmosphere.

The setting sun bathed the land in hues of gold and crimson-an ironic beauty for the destruction unfolding as you stood at the edge of the camp.

Your gaze was fixed on the battlefield. You could faintly see Achilles; his golden armor gleaming brilliantly, a stark contrast to the spraying blood of the Trojans he cut down with a vengeance. His movements were relentless-powerful and wild, a force of nature driven by an endless furious grief as he roared Hector's name.

It was mesmerizing and terrifying all at once.

"His anger knows no bounds," came Diomedes' dry observation as the man came to stop at your side. His sword rested against his shoulder, blood drying along its edge.

The King of Argos' face was grim, his usually stoic expression tinged with a hint of unease. "I've seen men fight in rage, but this..." He shook his head. "It's as if the fury itself is keeping him alive."

You glanced at him with furrowing brows. "How would you act if you lost the one you loved?" you asked softly, the words leaving your lips before you could think better of them.

Diomedes didn't answer. He simply looks back to Achilles with a clenched jaw.

It was Penelope, approaching from your other side, who reacted visibly. Her steps slowed upon she hearing your words, and when you turned to look at her you saw her face darken. She said nothing but you didn't need her to.

You knew what (or rather who) she was thinking of. The thought of Odysseus was etched into every line of her face, the distance between them a constant burden.

"Indeed..." A lilting and melodic voice cuts through the moment like a blade.

You turned sharply only to freeze at the sight of the figure standing before you.

She was otherworldly; her presence radiating divinity so strongly that even the air around her seemed to shimmer. Her features were delicate, her skin luminous as hair of silver and gold cascaded down her back in waves with a faint sheen that caught the sun's rays. She wore garments that flowed like water, their translucent shades of blue, green, and silver shifting with each movement.

A faint scent of salt lingered in the air around her-almost as though the ocean itself had followed her here.

You were struck silent by her presence. Diomedes and Penelope were just as stunned, their weapons lowered as they instinctively bowed their heads in reverence.

"Who..." Penelope was the first to find her voice, "who are you?"

A warm smile spread across the unknown deity's lips, serenity radiating from her even with bloodshed just down stream.

You couldn't look away. Your gaze lingered on her features, on the soft contours of her face and the way her hair move as though caught in an unseen current.

Your lips parted as the connection suddenly became clear. "Achilles..." you breath, the name slipping out before you could stop it.

Diomedes and Penelope turned to you, confusion evident on their faces, but you ignored them, your focus entirely on her.

Realizing you'd been staring you grew slightly bashful. "I see...I see so much of Achilles in you," you admitted, your voice quieter now as you tried to explain yourself. There was so much of Achilles in her-the sharpness of her gaze, the way her hair seemed to reflect the sun...

It was as though you were looking at a reflection of him.

Her smile softened, a hint of pride flashing in her eyes. "I would hope so," she replied lightly. "After all I am his mother."

Your eyes widened and you immediately straightened. Flustered, your face heat as you began to stumble over your words. "L-lady Thetis! I didn't realize-I'm so sorry! If I had known-"

Her melodic laugh breaks through your stammering. Thetis waves a dismissive hand, her expression kind. "No need for apologies my dear. Now...what do you think of the new armor my son wears?" she asks, her tone light and conversational as she gesture toward the fight.

Penelope raise a brow. "That was your doing?"

Thetis' chest puffed with pride, her smile widening. "It was! Hephaestus himself crafted it for him. A gift to replace what Apollo destroyed." Her smile grew tighter, a flicker of something cold passing through her eyes at the mention of the Sun God.

"The Trojans!" A shout cuts through the air.

You turn to see Polites sprinting toward the group. Armor battered and face streaked with dirt and blood, he clutched a dull and bloodied spear in one hand, his glasses askew with one lens cracked but intact.

"The Trojans...they're overwhelmed," He came to a stop before you, his breaths heaving. "Achilles has been slaughtering them all...even Priam's son Prince Lycaon. But Scamander...he's angry-furious at what Achilles has done. He's killed so many the waters are clogged with corpse-"

A rumble interrupted him.

Looking sharply toward the river, your stomach twist upon seeing the flow on your end of the bank recede, surging toward the heart of the battlefield like a living thing with a mind of its own.

You and Penelope exchanged a look before breaking into a sprint, Polites and Diomedes following close behind.

When you arrived the scene your blood froze in your veins.

Achilles stood in the river, drenched in blood and mud as his spear pierce through Trojan soldiers with ease. But what truly caught your breath was the shift in the river itself. The once-flowing water seemed to move against him. Its waters surged and twisted unnaturally, causing soldiers-Trojan and Greek alike-to scramble.

Then it happened.

A colossal wave reared up in a thunderous roar that shook the ground beneath your feet.

"Achilles!" you shout. He turns at the sound of your voice, his eyes meeting yours for only a moment before the massive wave crashed over him, sweeping him away in an instant.

"Achilles!" you screamed even louder as panic clawed at your heart. You scanned the area in search for any sign of him. "Thetis! Thetis where are you?!" you called out looking for for his mother.

She was nowhere to be found.

Penelope and Diomedes moved to your left, their faces equally grim as they stared at the chaotic river. Polites, still breathless from running, stumbled to a stop at your right as he attempts to fix the cracked spectacles back on his nose correctly.

Diomedes places a hand on your shoulder in support. "Will...he survive this?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain.

"He's part Nereid." Penelope's expression was firm as she spoke. "He can hold his breath longer than any mortal. He'll survive."

Polites frowned, anxiety clear in his form. "But he angered Scamander. A God's wrath isn't bound by reason. Even a Demigod can drown."

Before anyone else could respond the ground beneath your feet rumbled once again. A blinding light bursts through the sky, brighter than the sun itself.

You shield your eyes with your arm as the air grew hotter.

"What in the name of Olympus..." you muttered, staring in awe as you squint through the glare.

From the distant horizon an enormous semi-transparent image took shape-a fire-forged hammer, impossibly large and glowing with heat that seemed to warp the air around it.

It hovered over the river like an executioner's blade, radiating power so intense it made your skin prickle.

"What...is that?" Penelope whispered, her voice tight with alarm.

You opened your mouth to answer but a melodic voice beat you to it.

"It is Hephaestus," Thetis said calmly, her sudden re-appearance startling you all.

You turned to her wide-eyed. "Hephaestus? Why-?"

"To save my son," she answered simply with a small smile. "Hera commanded it. She appealed to Zeus on my behalf and Hephaestus was sent to intervene." She gestured toward the fiery hammer now hovering ominously over the river. "Scamander has overstepped."

Thetis' explanation hung in the air, her calmness at odds with the tremors beneath your feet. The hammer-now reaching its apex- descended with a slow deliberate motion, its fiery glow growing hotter as it slammed into the earth.

The impact was cataclysmic.

The ground beneath you shuddered violently, and you stumbled, arms shooting out to brace against Penelope and Diomedes as the three of you struggled to stay upright. Polites, ever the unsteady one, nearly toppled before catching himself against a nearby boulder.

You barely had time to recover when the world around you changed. The grass at your feet yellowed and withered, the moisture sucked from the earth in an instant. Further down the riverbank, the ground near the hammer was blackened-scorched by its divine heat.

And the river itself-what was left of it at least-boiled violently, sending thick plumes of steam into the air.

"Look!" Polites shouted as he pointed at he riverbed. Following his gaze, you saw the once-mighty Scamander reduced to a sputtering trickle.

He released a scream, a haunting cry that sent a shiver down your spine. It was as though the river itself was writhing in its death throes. The waters of Scamander churned and sloshed violently against its banks with a force that nearly knocked you and the others off your feet.

You barely had time to process the sound when the river seemed to heave as if expelling something-or someone-from its depths.

A figure shot out of the water like an arrow by an unseen force. The body arced through the air, steam hissing and rising in thick plumes around it before landing heavily at your feet with a wet thud.

"Achilles!" you drop to your knees beside him as relief warred within you.

His armor dripped with scalding liquid as he violently coughed out mouthfuls of hot water from his lungs. His golden hair clung to his face in damp tendrils and his breathing was labored...but he was alive.

The second his body touched the bank the boiling water began to subside as the fiery hammer above disappeared. The battlefield-which had paused in stunned silence-seemed to exhale all at once as the divine interference faded.

"Achilles?" Your voice was softer now as you reached out to him. Your hand hovering uncertainly before resting on his shoulder, the heat of his soaked armor making you flinch. "Are you...?"

He groaned in response as his coughing subsided and breathing evened out. His eyes slowly fluttered open and they immediately locked onto yours.

A boyish smile tugged at the corners of his lips despite the strain in his features. "My love," he rasped, his voice hoarse but unmistakably teasing. "Did you enjoy my performance out there?"

Your jaw dropped at the audacity of his words. "Your performance?!" you sputtered as heat rushed to your face. "Achilles you nearly died! What in Hades were you thinking?!"

He chuckled weakly, the sound more air than laughter as his gaze remained fixed on you. "Always so dramatic," he murmured. "But you're cute when you're worried."

You quickly turned your attention to his armor, choosing to fuss over the straps and brushing away the collected water. "You're reckless Achilles. Reckless and impossible," you mutter more to yourself than him.

He didn't seem to hear a word you said. Instead he tilted his head slightly, a soft hum escaping him as he watched you with a gaze so unrelentingly fond it only made you more flustered.

"I take it you've met my mother?" he asks casually, his eyes flicking briefly to Thetis who stood nearby with her usual serene grace. "She's so maternal....A perfect mother-in-law wouldn't you say?"

You froze, your hands halting mid-motion as you struggled to process what he'd just said. "Achilles!" you smack his shoulder lightly. "Now is not the time!"

Thetis chuckled as she glided closer. "Oh don't scold him too harshly," she coos, her seafoam colored eyes crinkling with amusement. "He gets it from his father."

You blinked up at her still flustered. "Lady Thetis, I-" you began, but she cut you off with a gentle smile.

"You've been such a sweetheart to my son," her tone was genuine. "I can't thank you enough for looking after him."

Warmth spreading through your chest at the thought. But just as quickly guilt followed. Avoiding her gaze, your shoulders tensed as you shook your head. "I haven't done much," you murmured. "I couldn't stop his pain."

Thetis' expression softened and she stepped closer. Her fingers, cool and gentle, tilted your chin upward. "You've done more than you realize," her gaze seemed to peer into the very depths of your soul. "More than you know."

The weight of her words settled over you, and for a moment, you felt the tightness in your chest ease.

Thetis suddenly shifts the mood, her playful smile returning as she pinch your cheek affectionately. "Oh! I Just can't wait for the grandkids. They'll be so beautiful, just like their parents~"

Your face burned hot with embarrassment, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you tried to formulate a response.

Polites audibly choked on his own breath. "Grandkids?!" he blurted out. His hand flew to his mouth as though he could physically shove the words back in.

"It's-uh, it's not that I-" He coughed, attempting to regain his composure. "It's just...uh...wouldn't that...complicate the war effort? You know strategically speaking?" His voice rose at the end as if even he wasn't convinced by his excuse. "We um...can't afford distractions right now," he added weakly.

You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands, unsure if you wanted to laugh or disappear entirely.

Penelope, who had been standing quietly up until now, cleared her throat and stepped in.

"Polites is right," she said smoothly, though her tone carried a subtle edge. "We're in the midst of war after all. It wouldn't be wise to...entertain such ideas as distractions of that nature could lead to....complications." Her sharp gaze flicker to Achilles for a brief moment before settling back on Thetis.

Polites nodded enthusiastically, his earlier panic subsiding as he latched onto Penelope's words. "Exactly! What she said!"

Achilles raised a brow at the two of them. His lips twitched with faint amusement, though there was a glimmer of irritation in his eyes. "You two are awfully invested in my personal life aren't you?"

"Someone has to be," Polites muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from Achilles.

But to everyone's surprise Achilles turned his attention back to Thetis and sighed dramatically.

"Mother can we please not talk about grandkids?" he said, exasperated. "Now is not the time."

Penelope and Polites visibly relaxed at his words. The tension left their shoulders as they exchanged a subtle glance of victory in Achilles finally ending his battle of flirtation with you.

But just as quickly, Achilles opened his mouth again. "Besides," he adds, his tone light and casual as a sly smirk curl at the corners of his lips, "you can't forget about Briseis."

Thetis gasped dramatically. "You're absolutely right! How could I forget my first grandchild?" She clasp her hands together and look toward the heavens as if to pray. "Oh my sweet Briseis. My darling granddaughter," she coos with exaggerated affection.

Achilles, looking thoroughly pleased with himself, boyish grin widens as he leaned closer to you. "So," he lowers his voice enough to where only you could hear, "how many grandkids do you think Mother prefers?"

"Achilles!" you hissed as you shoving him away.