So Beautiful ❤️❤️ You Always Draw Characters So Delicately, Always Gives It A Magic Touch!

EMERGENCY COMMISSION

NEW COMMISSION PRICES

My sister just got fired and her now former boss haven't pay her salary yet. And since I never lucky with commission, I decided to lower my prices starting from $2 USD!

EDIT: ADDITIONAL PRICES ALSO CHANGED:

unless AI takes over, then what's the point to keep in living, amirite?

AVAILABLE ON VGEN!

OR AT BUYMEACOFFEE!

I second this completely!! The most unfair thing ever!!!!

Continuing from Part 2

Guilt (P3 + Footnotes)

"Odysseus" Meriones approached him, "Are you alright?"

Odysseus winced in pain. He hadn't realized he had clenched his fist so hard that it hurt him. He unclenched it.

"Yes..." he whispered, "Yes, I'm fine..."

Odysseus moaned. That baby...the look at that infant's face...Astyanax was gone...he had given his place to Telemachus. Priam's slain face was Laërtes...mourning Andromache was his wife... He grasped his head with both hands.

"Damn you Neoptolemus! Damn you Helen for starting it! Damn you Menelaus for dragging me into this... Damn you Palamedes! Damn you all! Why should I have taken this blood upon me?! Why did it have to be me?!"

He sighed.

"Polites...I want to be alone for a little while..."

"Do you think that is wise...?" Polites asked with hidden meaning.

"Wise!" Odysseus voiced like an echo, "No, perhaps not but I got tired of being wise for now..."

Polites sighed.

"At least add some water to your wine...please Odysseus"

Odysseus dismissed him with a move of his hand. He wasn't much in the mood for anything at that moment. He knew war wouldn't be pleasant but these events of just one night were taking the cake. He was exhausted; sleepless for two nights and a full day and right now the Sacker of Cities, the Man of Many Ways was terrified. He collapsed again and his tears overflowed from his eyes, wetting the table below. He grasped his wet hair with his fingers as if he was ready to uproot them.

"Gods! Please Athena, please, I beg of you...if you love me...p-protect my son! Let the miasma fall on me! Not him! I-I...I just wanted to g-go home! I just wanted to see them again...my Penelope...my Telemachus...! I-I never meant for this to happen! P-Please...! I beg of you if you love me...p-protect my son! Don't let the gods' wrath fall upon their heads! P-Please...! F-Forgive me! I...I just...I just wanted to go home!"

He couldn't decide what to pray for first... Words cascaded out of his mouth without any coherent way or syntax. He only prayed desperately, wetting with his tears the table. Sun was already setting and Troy was taken...but at what cost...

*

Menelaus and Agamemnon entered Odysseus's hut one after the other.

"I gotta give it to you, Odysseus!" Agamemnon said, "You WERE telling the truth when you said you could take Troy in one night!"

Odysseus was collapsed upon his chair, looking at them with an unreadable expression to his face. The jug was resting empty somewhere after the feet of his seat.

"Hm..." he hummed, "That's me. I am the trickster, remember? I lie, I scheme and I trick. That is what I do"

Agamemnon raised a brow.

"Are you drunk?!" He asked in disbelief

"One more shame to add to the events of this night..." Odysseus replied bitterly.

"Shame? I do not understand. We finally sacked the city. You can finally go home."

"Home..." Odysseus whispered, "I wonder...what shall I say to Penelope when she asks? Or Telemachus? If he asks 'father what did you do and you were away?', 'I was at war, my son', 'did you fight honorably and sack many cities?'... What shall I say for what we've done...?"

"I do not understand you Odysseus. It was your idea"

"Yeah somehow I do not doubt it..." Odysseus mumbled bitterly, "I was wrong, Agamemnon. This was not what I imagined...what I planned..."

He sighed shifting his position a bit to his chair.

"Priam is dead, you know that..."

"Yeah, like we expected to-..."

"On the altar. On the freaking altar, Agamemnon..."

"Yeah I heard..."

"Imagine that happening to any of us...in our homelands. If one cannot respect the holy laws then what?"

He played a bit with his empty cup.

"Priam murdered on the altar...Cassandra raped mercilessly and now Ajax looks for shelter to the very same altar he dragged her out of, to avoid being stoned to death..." the king of Ithaca rubbed the bridge of his nose, "...death...death and fire everywhere..."

"Odysseus..." spoke Menelaus, "I understand that you are grieving, it was not easy or pleasant but..."

"The boy...he was the same age as my son! Thrown off the wall..."

"Odysseus" Agamemnon spoke again, "I honestly don't understand you. Others would fly from joy with your glory. You had a good plan and it worked. Thanks to you we can all go home."

Odysseus's eyes became bottomless. Even Agamemnon had to lower his gaze against it.

"The blasphemy put us under the anger of gods, Agamemnon. Remember that. Listen..."

Agamemnon seemed like indeed trying to listen something.

"The Trojans are not the only ones mourning. We lost many good men too. We lost Achilles. Or have you forgotten?"

Agamemnon sighed deeply.

"His loss...was tragic indeed" he finally said, "we had our differences but his loss was a great price..."

"Quite so..." Odysseus whispered, "was it really worth it? The price we had to pay to sack Troy?"

He shifted his weight to his chair lethargically. He rubbed his forehead with his free hand for a second. The dizziness bad settled for real in his brain. He leaned his head back again, earning a small cracking sound from his neck.

"And since we are at it, I have a question for you, Agamemnon, son of Atreus, the first among the Greeks... What did the Trojans REALLY do to us to deserve such an end?"

"You're drunk! You don't know what you're talking about!"

Odysseus snorted humorlessly.

"Oh, I am drunk, alright. But I know exactly what I am talking about. And you do too. They took Helen, sure, or at least one of them did. But their real crime against us was that they protected their lands...from us. That's what we would have done as well..."

Agamemnon was ready to speak again but Menelaus stopped him.

"Brother, that's enough"

He then turned ti Odysseus sympathetically.

"Look, Odysseus, I understand that it hurts and I am sorry too that I put you through that indirectly, but please do not melt away. No matter what the actions of others was not your choice."

Odysseus said nothing. He only sighed.

"Will you join us at the games later? You are the hero of the day. Your presence is asked for."

Odysseus scoffed.

"Oh I will be there, alright. I never miss a good party!"

Menelaus smiled sadly.

"Thank you, Odysseus...for everything. I really mean it... I will see you later, when you sober up a little..."

He looked at his friend and added;

"And...we shall mention none...of this" he pointed at him indicating his condition.

Odysseus soullessly nodded as if wanting to attempt some humor.

"Thanks...I appreciate it"

Agamemnon was ready to say something but apparently he decided against it. He only sighed and turned to leave before finally asking;

"Will you come to take a pick from the spoils? You deserve it given it was thanks to you we got in"

The tired king made a dismissive move with his hand.

"No. I'm fine with whatever. Just include me to the next lottery" he replied indifferently

"Are you sure? You deserve a better share"

Odysseus smiled humorlessly.

"Last time I chose and defended my choice, we lost Aias the Telamonian. I think we lost enough for one decade, don't you think?"

It was a failure of attempt for humor and he knew it but Agamemnon only sighed.

"Suit yourself" he said defeated, heading for the exit

Menelaus was about to do the same but apparently something made him stop and turn around.

"Odysseus?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you...truly... You gave me back my honor

Odysseus snorted again.

"With the cost of mine..." he whispered bitterly, "Not that anyone ever thought I had any..."

The king of Sparta, though, shook his head negatively.

"To me you will always be the greatest of all Greeks"

The man who endured all torments looked up and for the first tike a small smile rose to his dry lips. That word of kindness was what he needed for his tormented heart to feel some sort of hope. At least there was finally one who neither blamed him nor glorified him. Menelaus saw his torment and responded. That was enough.

"Thank you..." he whispered

Menelaus nodded his head in return.

"Now rest, my friend. We have a long way before us...we are going home..."

Home...the tormented king of Ithaca thought. Yes, finally they could go home. After 10 endless years they could finally embrace their families. Just few more months of journey and Odysseus could finally go home... All he had to do was to learn to live with what he did... He watched both the kings through his cloudy vision, getting out of his tent and Polites coming back in.

"I am sorry, Odysseus! I couldn't stop them!"

Odysseus dismissed him with a hand gesture once more.

"Don't sweat it, Polites. Stopping a king seems impossible. Gods help us with two!"

Polites smiled softly. At least he would gain some of his humor back, he thought.

"Help me get to my bed, Polites..." sighed Odysseus hoarsely, "I need to rest... I am very tired..."

~~~~

Oh gosh what have I done?! Hehehehe well not sorry...not really! 😆 I hope you enjoyed this ride.

As you see I tried incorporating some of the Epic Cycle to the situation but I did tamper around with the timeliness. The Epic Cycle is a lovely mess anyways and holds many contradictions with the homeric poems but it includes many things.

Now the fragmentary poem Iliou Persis is sven mentioned how Odysseus throws Astyanax off the walls but most sources have Neoptolemus donit and I do agree with those more. Now in Trojan Women by Eurypedes the messenger Talthybius tells Andromache that Odysseus schemed so that her son would be thrown off the walls and that he persuaded the Greeks they couldn't raise the baby. Odysseus doesn't strike much as a baby killer in Odyssey or even the Iliad although he is known for being cruel in his punishments (see the excecution of the 50 conspiring slave girls) but nowhere jn Odyssey does Odysseus refer to that fact even if he does speak of his regrets for other actions of his and if he HAD thrown Astyanax off the walls himself I doubt he wouldn't have made any reference to it so I believe that Iliou Persis should he treated like Telegony when it comes to the homeric poems; a bit contradictory to the homeric epics (unless there is some lost fragment that tells us how Odysseus went on a rampage he could not remember lol 😆 ) so I made a mixture of all the above to show how Odysseus "killed" Astyanax or subconsciously persuaded the Greeks to do it and I added the role of Talthybius here too.

Iliou Persis seems to also be the most violent form when it comes to the Greek side such as that they offer Priam's daughter Polyxene to Achilles's tomb as a sacrifice, thus causing the rage of Athena (I swear the thing was written by a Trojan lol 😆) Eurypedes mentions how Polyxene was offered as slave to Achilles symbolically so she should serve his tomb. I also added the detail of Odysseus trying to persuade Neoptolemus to choose her as his price to speak Andromache but his attempts are a failure.

Drunkenness was severely discouraged in ancient geeece thus the concern in Polites's words when Odysseus uses it as a coping mechanism for the traumatic events of the night. Moreover the Greeks always mixed their wine with water (thus having the modern name for wine in Greek κρασί which comes from the verb in ancient greek which means "to mix") the wine that was not watered was called άκρατον and it was qlmost never consumed unless dipped in bread. The analogy between wine and water depended.

In this story I depict Neoptolemus as somehow a nemesis to Odysseus. Similar to what Agamemnon or Hector were for Achilles. I have no idea why but the idea stuck with me especially since the two are the two candidates for the murder of Astyanax. Somehow I imagined them again as the polar opposites thus the two of them having tension.

Odysseus mentions Thersites who was beaten really badly by him in the Iliad. In other sources it is mentioned that Odysseus has him stoned to death after Theraites attempts treason. In this story Thersites was already dead.

I know that for Palamedes the most famous version of his end comes from Hygenius who writes how Odysseus frames him for treason. However Pausanias mentions from the Epic Cycle that Palamedes drowned at a fishing expedition and that "he believes the murderers were Odysseus and Diomedes". 🤔 somehow I wanted to use a lesser known version plus give a bit room to doubt for instance did Palamedes really fell by accident and Odysseus is guilty for not helping? Or perhaps Odysseus pushed him? Maybe he held him under? Dunno. Leave it to your imagination. I know is not so spicy as the framing story but bare with me hehehe

Talthybius here simply hears "it was Odysseus who planned it" thus sending that information yo Andromache without the rest of the details..

Astyanax uttering a word was totally random. If he were an infant a few months old or almost a year old in Iliad that means he would be around 1 to 1.5 years old when Troy fell so I thought it would be more impactful if the poor baby uttered a word before his end.

The interaction with Andromache was placed there for the dramatics and the impact. When Andromache screams "MY BOY!" I was inspired by the series "The Tudors" when Anne Boleyn laments her final miscarriage (by the way I think Natalie Dormer would make an amazing Andromache!)

The story with Palamedes was also added to make the connection between two mothers and their impact to Odysseus. Plus I thought it would make more sense if Odysseus was furious not only for being embarrassed or that he has to go to war but because Palamedes put his son in danger. (Of course Penelope would be part of that scheme!)

Odysseus refusing to participate at the choice of spoils was just a random detail but as a general rule from Eurypedes it seems that he eats the old Ekavi (Hecuba) as his slave (probably she would be to serve Penelope( so I imagined Odysseus wouldn't want to choose but getting whatever would be lucky for him to further implicate that he wouldn't want anything further to do with the war. He also mentions the incident when Telamonian Aias (aka the great Ajax) went mad when Odysseus won Achilles's armor from him and then he killed himself in shame.

I also wanted to portray the friendship between Menelaus and Odysseus which seems to be really strong since Menelaus always talks with the warmest words for Odysseus.

For further questions and analysis please ask me to the comment section or reblog etc!

I wanna also tag some of my best friends commenters rebloggers etc! Thank you guys! Sorry if I forget anyone!

@loco-bird @aaronofithaca05 @tunguszka20 @doob-or-something @jarondont @prompted-wordsmith @simugeuge @fangirlofallthefanthings

What a fantastic piece once again girl!! I'm glad you're getting praised for it because your brilliant writing really deserves it ❤️🫶🌹 And once again thank you SOOO much for the mention! It always means so much 🫂❤️

I have to admit, while I may not be familiar with all the figures and details referenced here, the emotions you’ve portrayed, the loss, grief, and the emptiness left in the aftermath of battle come through so clearly. You’ve captured these feelings beautifully, and despite not knowing everything, I still have a vivid sense of what’s happening.

I especially love how you delved into the aftermath of Achilles' revenge. You’ve portrayed such a raw and realistic emotion, the emptiness that lingers after vengeance is taken. Because no matter how much blood is spilled, the one he’s lost remain gone. The way you depicted Achilles’ heartbreak, his yearning for the loved one that can never return is so powerful.

The way you described his sense of emptiness is truly devastating. That feeling of nothingness is one of the hardest to bear, and you conveyed it with such depth! I also love the contrast between his feelings for the slave woman he left behind and the overwhelming grief for Patroclus. And it's also very touching that this feeling of him as his other half could be interpreted as both romantic (with the symbolisms of the empty cold bed and more) and as profound brotherly lovee, both extremely meaningful and absolutely crushing for Achilles at this moment. You also showed the pain of him not being there for Patroclus death quite well. As well as his guilt for not crying for his wife and son in contrast to that which it's so tragic!

The scene where Achilles pleads at Patroclus’ urn was especially gut-wrenching. His desperation in offering up his reasons as if striking a bargain, despite knowing it’s hopeless... It shows how his mind is completely under the grief at this point...

Achilles’ interaction with Antilochus was incredibly touching. The tenderness between them, the way Antilochus calls him back to reason with such affection is beautiful. The embrace, the gentle way he wipes away Achilles' tears, and even his soft plea for Achilles to be there for him… it’s all so sweet. You showed their closeness in such a tender way, and it was especially moving to see how Achilles was pulled from his despair when he realized Antilochus could be lost too. The moment Achilles' protective instinct kicked in was so well done!

Their connection by the prophecy of death is so tragic tho... but still so meaningful! I always find it profound when a character’s will to live is reignited because of their care for someone else. Here, it’s all the more tragic because both Achilles and Antilochus are staring at their own potential deaths. Yet, their shared vulnerability and need for one another’s presence give this scene so much emotional depth!

Completely unrelated, but Achilles’ plea to Antilochus really reminded me of Caleb begging Dilla to stay, and their reconnection after years apart. It struck me with the same vibe!

Love the short scene with Odysseus at the end as well! His desperation to return home after years of war, mixed with the uncertainty of Achilles’ mental state despite the death of the strongest warrior of the enemy... It’s bittersweet and so very human.

Your attention to detail really shines through too. The way you mention older characters like Nestor feeling the cold more deeply adds a great touch of realism! You are so good with such charming little details!

And you end up with a very nice duality as well! Achilles’ regained spirits is contrasted by Nestor’s look of grim reality, reminding Odysseus that while the young fight and die, the old are left to mourn and witness the fading of their legacies...

Once again amazing girl! Another powerful moment described so well really fantastic work!! ❤️❤️❤️

The Lament of a Life (Achilles and Antilochus short songfic)

If someone asks me how the lament of Achilles looks like my answer would be the amazing aria with music composed by Vivaldi:

The lyrics go on a repeat like this:

So today is a bit chilly and so I was inspired by this amazing song and made this! (Sorry itis a random inspiration I had this morning from this piece thus the title "song-fic")

***

His eyelids were heavy. He didn’t feel like getting up anymore. His bed seemed cold and inhospitable and yet he didn’t feel like moving out of it. His eyes opened slowly and looked to the side. It was empty. He looked outside his tent. Also empty. There was nothing left; he didn’t have the subject of his revenge anymore; he had given it back. Hector’s body was buried and celebrated. His revenge had come to an end. And yet, he felt empty. Nothing mattered. Achilles, the Best and Noblest of all the Greeks was no longer feeling anything mattered. What would it matter now that the subject of his vengeance was gone, if the subject of all the affections he could offer to a human being was also gone? His soul was in turmoil throughout the process. He thought on Briseis, the woman that he felt so strongly for; merely a slave and yet so important for him, had started this domino of reactions which led him to the strike; his refusal to fight. Then his refusal led to this terrible result; the death of his other half. The flame that flickered inside him was gone, the moment Patroclus’s eyes turned glassy from death and he wasn’t even there. During Patroclus’s last moments…he wasn’t there! He remembered his wife; a woman he barely knew and yet she gave him a son, a son he adored despite his young years, a son that he never knew and a son that never knew him back. He could be lamenting for them; they wouldn’t see him again possibly. Given the prophecy, he was to die in war. Possibly neither his wife nor his son, were included in the prophecy. He should be crying for them. He should be crying for the people that were around him and yet…he was feeling weak; unwilling to even get out of his bed and eat because of… He slowly forced himself to sit up and he looked at the magnificent urn with two handles that was always within eye gaze from him. The intricate patterns were cold; just like his bed that could not give him warmth.

“Come back…” he whispered in a voice chocked deep in his throat

Tears oozed out of his sea-blue eyes; his throat burning anew.

“I did what you asked…I offered you a burial…come back…! Please…come back to me!”

His hand was shaking as it was reaching for the cold, golden urn; his other fixing the covers upon his naked chest, in a vain attempt to generate some warmth within.

“Please…” he whispered again, “Come back…!”

“Achilles…”

The young and soft voice didn’t surprise him neither made him react. Antilochus was standing right behind him, undoubtedly had entered his tent a little while prior, enough to hear his foolish and childish lament.

“He won’t come back…” the young man said as a matter of fact, “You offered him a burial. He is in the land of Hades now… He will not come back”

More tears arose from Achilles’s eyes as he clasped desperately the covers against his chest; his face buried to the pocket created by them as if his own eyes wanted to confirm what hurt so much was indeed the organ that was pumping his blood, giving him life inside. Yes, he knew. His cut hair was also a proof of that but hearing it again was somehow destroying that foolish illusion that if he begged hard enough, goddess Persephone would have mercy and send back Patroclus to him; his soul to talk to or at least restore his body to hold one more time…

“Soul of my soul…” he mumbled in lament, “My dear as my own heart…”

“Shh…” Antilochus whispered in tears, hugging his shoulders affectionately, “I know… I know… Please don’t do this to yourself… I know it hurts but…he’s gone… No matter what you do…how much you melt…he won’t come back…”

“Heart of my heart…” Achilles lamented again, “I want him back…! I want him to come back…”

“I know…” Antilochus said again, caressing his golden locks with his hands

Achilles seemed almost aged at that point in his sorrow. Antilochus almost felt tempted to look for white hairs in his golden head.

“And I am sorry that I cannot offer you any consolation… Forgive me. I am not him; I cannot take your sorrow away…”

Antilochus softly raised Achilles’s head, cupping his cheeks and making him look deep in the eyes. He moped the tears from his cheekbones with his thumbs.

“I know I am young and foolish…but, please, take one bit of advice from me; stop looking at it! Stop looking at that urn! It will only hurt you more… You need to come back to us too…we need you…”

He looked away.

“I need you…” he whispered shyly, “You are my hero, my idol… I need you back, strong and healthy…maybe some of your previous happiness back… Please…please my dear…we all need you. Above all I do…”

Achilles looked at him and for one moment he looked like a hurt animal facing the peasant that had released him from the hunter’s trap. However then he laughed; it was a dry, humorless, lamenting laugh.

“Don’t be foolish!” he said self-pettily, “No one shall need me! I shall die! I know I will!”

“Don’t talk like that!”

“You can’t deny it, Antilochus! I know it to be true! It was predicted for me! I will die! I will die in this war! My mother told me someday I would die in this war if I decided to fight! I shall never go home! I shall never see my wife and son! I will die now! I know I will and I don’t care! Nothing matters anymore!”

“Don’t say that!” Antilochus retorted again

“I know the truth” Achilles insisted, “I decided it for myself. I know what my fate is! That urn Im staring is waiting for me! I am to die!”

Antilochus looked away. He seemed hesitant; his arm rubbing his upper arm as if he was about to make that confession no one has heard before.

“I’ll tell you a secret…” he whispered, “So am I…”

Achilles seemed surprised and shocked for the first time in that conversation. Suddenly the lament gone; now there was fear in his eyes. Fear for yet another loss.

“My father was hiding it…but I overheard him. An oracle once told him to beware of an Ethiopian. At first I didn’t know…but my father tried to hide it from me. I know now that I am to die somehow by someone from a foreign land… Maybe today maybe tomorrow maybe here maybe at home… I know though that I will die like this…and…”

He swallowed and looked back at Achilles. The elder man gasped seeing tears to Antilochus’s eyes.

“…And I am scared! I am scared, Achilles! I don’t want to tell my father that for he would be ashamed of me and my cowardice but…I am scared! How can you take it, Achilles? How can you live knowing that you will die…?”

“Antilochus…”

Antilochus quickly mopped his own tears, sniffing his nose, trying to find his composure.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbled, “I don’t know what came into me! I just…”

He sighed.

“We need you back” he finally repeated, “You are our strength and our courage. When you are out there we are afraid of nothing!”

“Antilochus!”

And Achilles did something the younger prince never expected; he embraced him.

“Antilochus, dear to my heart…don’t say such things please. Don’t you say that you will die! I will not let you! I…I will protect you!”

“You…you will…?”

“I will!”

Achilles kissed the top of his head and held him close. Maybe for the first time in weeks he didn’t think of death and burials. Right now he was lamenting a life; this young man who was there apparently sharing his pain and fate. No, he wouldn’t see yet another young person close to him die before him in battle!

“I will protect you! I will not let anything happen to you I promise!”

The two men remained there for quite some time, neither wanted to count the time. It was a shared lament for their short lives; a lament that was different than the one for the dead souls. Who would die first? If both of them were destined to die in the war against Troy, who would die first and who would watch the other die? Neither wanted to be the last. Neither wanted to see the other die. What weird and sad fate! Achilles was almost rocking the youth in his arms so worried of his upcoming death while he was almost welcoming his at that point; oftentimes kissing tenderly his temple. Antilochus was trying to evoke some of his warmth to Achilles for he was afraid for his upcoming death; his welcoming of it. He didn’t want to hear fate yet alone his willingness to accept it. It was a weird way to connect that autumn morning. And yet he felt that at least Achilles might have found a reason to postpone his will to die. Antilochus broke the embrace first, standing up.

“Look at us!” he chuckled softly, “Looking like children playing at the gymnasium like this! We have a war to fight! I am sorry…I took your personal time, my lord Achilles…”

“Wait!” Achilles’s voice made him stop, “Stay…please…”

It was a request; a pleading.

“Please stay with me longer…” he almost seemed worried, afraid

“Are you afraid of the dark and shadows?”

“Yes…” Achilles admitted, “More like those inside my heart… Please stay a bit longer…”

Antilochus smiled softly.

“Of course, my lord…” he whispered, “I would be delighted”

*

Outside the tents, the Greeks were already preparing for the events of the day. The kings were to negotiate their next step again given how the mourning period for Hector was over, how the killings would start anew. It was a sad prospect and they knew their own forces wouldn’t last long. The spies were also informing them on movement on Troy’s part to call upon more allies to arrive to the battlefield. Odysseus was thinking all this as he pranced about the camp. He blew some warm air to his freezing fingers. Autumn was in for good. Soon winter would arrive again.

“Yet another year to the foot of Troy…” he thought miserably, “Yet another year away from our homes…for the sakes of this war…”

He was also worried on Achilles. That last lament period shocked everyone. Achilles had just collapsed and then turned into blind rage. People were afraid on his sanity; that his mind would break. An out of control Achilles was much more dangerous than they would have thought. And their army needed their support. Before the Trojans had Hector to even the odds. Now their strongest warrior was gone. It would be their chance to have higher spirits and yet they didn’t. Achilles was a mess. Once more they seemed to square one… He could only hope he would snap out of his grief enough to fight. His gloomy thoughts were interrupted when he saw old Nestor. Nestor was suffering more than the rest of them from the cold; he had a bear skin over his shoulders to keep his old bones warmer and yet he refused to stand back. Odysseus smiled.

“Good morning, my friend” he said

“Good morning” Nestor replied, “It turned chilly!”

“Yeah…” Odysseus agreed, “Sometimes I envy the young!”

“Speaking of which…my son left the tent earlier this morning. He said he wanted to check on Achilles and I didn’t hear from him since. Have you seen him?”

“No” Odysseus replied thoughtfully, “But I was heading there myself to check on things. Maybe he is still there”

As if on a queue they heard light laughter coming from the direction where the Myrdmidons had camped.  The distinct, clear laughter from Achilles made a small smile creep to Odysseus’s lips.

“It’s the first time I hear him laugh in weeks…” he sounded almost hopeful, “Your son is a miracle-worker!”

Nestor smiled back.

“He is…” he whispered thoughtfully, “He is…”

Odysseus’s smile dropped when he saw a shadow in Nestor’s eyes. He didn’t need to ask to know there was something ominous hanging over the two youths.

Yet another time he looked at the cloudy, gray sky and wondered to Athena how all that was even justified…if the youth were to perish and all the others would live…

***

So yeah...Achilles being depressed and Antilochus giving some consolation! TT_TT Achilles hoped to see Patroclus's ghost again (which is what inspired me from that amazing Aria as well!)

Also I wondered if Antilochus knew the warning Nestor got to "beware of an Ethiopian" if he would know or sense the warning was for himself instead of his father...what if he feared it all along...maybe that would be the connection with Achilles!

Set after the mourning period of Hector! As you can see I kept it a bit "homeric" in the essence that I love tenderness in his writing and then leave it unravel!

a small thanking thing in a way too for @smokey07 for honoring me with a mention! Anoher thankng for @h0bg0blin-meat for his sketch to one of my silly headcanons about Achilles and Patroclus! Still makes me giggle my friend!

Also I want you guys check out my brilliant friend's art and mentions on our characters trust me you won't regret it! Many parallels of the epic cycle were added unconsciously to our story! Hahahaha! @artsofmetamoor

My analysis on Achilles and Patroclus can be found here

Antilochus needed some love too there! Hehehe others write scary stories for October but I was like "nope I shall mention ghosts in angst!"

🌙 Moonlight Greatsword - Free wallpaper available

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Hahaha that character being there for good measurements and comparisons 😆

Yeah I think it's s fantastic how Odysseus has all the ingredients to easily fall into the Mary Sue category, and yet he's so well thought out and balanced with both strengths and weaknesses that he becomes engaging, he is very human and the perfect character to symbolize the human will to survive even while facing great odds and suffering! For sure he breaks with extreme sorrow, anger and guilt which is such a raw realistic reaction, his faith can also falter in the worst moments, and no matter how formidable he is, he is still at danger of being hurt and killed which makes the risks he faces very real and scary threats! And the fact that he can get over himself with his talents shows the downside of his confidence and yet it's that same confidence and determination that ensures his survival! (Yeah I also think that could be a a bit a stretch hehe)

Yeah even in the way Odysseus can be an actor which fits Diego a lot too hahaha oh man Caleb sure is! And that's probably why he fits so well living in the middle of the Tribal Galhots 😂 but gosh yes his honesty and his boldness jumping to danger hahaha yes the young old man haha oh man he is which makes it tragic how Caleb went through more suffering in his youth than in his older years!

Gosh the parallels are so good they just write themselves 😂

Hahahaha don't you love it when characters in the homeric poems go like;

Agamemnon the warrior and king and Menelaus who has loud war cry we have Ajax who is huge and freaking strong we have Nestor the amazing peace maker and diplomat and so on and so forth and while we have kings and mariners hither thither and finally we get Achilles, the one known being fast, best in war, great with spear and sword and somehow surpassing almost everyone at almost everything (usually war related) and a capable musician...

And then we have Odysseus 😂

Like wits that rival the gods, master mariner, expert with the spear and great archer fast and fierce despite his age, ultimate survivor, master of disguise a diplomat and a speaker, hunter, carpenter and builder schemer and actor master tactician and a freaking goddess magnet

Like...Homer my dude...leave some talents for the rest of the crew will ya??

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Concept art for The Jungle Book (1967) by Al Dempster and Art Riley

I think it's safe to say that Dilla and Neytiri would not exactly get along, especially after Dilla and Caleb adopt Miles/Spider. Neytiri's attitude towards him would not be tolerated.

Dilla is already fiercely protective of children and the young. Messing with her own babies is throwing fuel on an already raging fire.

Kai is scared, but still trying to cover his brother 😭❤️

Beauty and the Beast (1991) storyboards by Glen Keane

@signfromeywa @inolaphoenix ❤️❤️

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Little sketch 💜 My OC Ava and Quaritch, she always wakes up before him 🤭