As if he were the student and Zagreus the teacher, Achilles listens attentively as the son of Hades spins for him his future in the halls of death. When the tale reaches its end — or rather, does not, for in death there is no end — a great relief washes over Achilles, effacing his worry as when the tide meets the shore and smooths away the evidence of man's trespasses marked in its sand.
"I see...so although our bones are buried together, we must be apart for a while longer. So it was when I lived in the palace of Lycomedes, there on steep Scyros. The years I passed there were less in number than I passed on Troy's shores, yet felt so much longer, imprisoned as I was in a lie of my mother's invention. Her plans were all for naught — I sailed to Troy in search of glory anyway. My thirst for it was so much sharper after all those years I lay hidden in the shadows."
He shakes his noble head, for that is another tale — yet, it is all the same tale, in the same way that so many thousands of threads must come together to form a tapestry.
"Nevertheless, if you speak true, we shall be together in the end, Patroclus and I. To hear thus is the best salve for my heart. Thank you, son of Hades."
no subject
"I see...so although our bones are buried together, we must be apart for a while longer. So it was when I lived in the palace of Lycomedes, there on steep Scyros. The years I passed there were less in number than I passed on Troy's shores, yet felt so much longer, imprisoned as I was in a lie of my mother's invention. Her plans were all for naught — I sailed to Troy in search of glory anyway. My thirst for it was so much sharper after all those years I lay hidden in the shadows."
He shakes his noble head, for that is another tale — yet, it is all the same tale, in the same way that so many thousands of threads must come together to form a tapestry.
"Nevertheless, if you speak true, we shall be together in the end, Patroclus and I. To hear thus is the best salve for my heart. Thank you, son of Hades."