Patroclus was listening so attentively to a story told to him by his Aunt Thetis that he didn't even notice his cousin slip away into his bedchamber until he returned holding something small, wrapped in a white sheet tied into place with a golden ribbon. The goddess fell silent as the warrior resumed his place at the table, lying the mysterious item atop it.
Achilles smiled softly at his young charge, noticing the look of curiosity on his face. "Patroclus. We have one last gift for you."
The younger was surprised. Glancing behind him at all of the gifts he had already received for this night's occasion he couldn't believe there could be more. Already, he'd acquired a new slingshot from Thetis, stunning armor for Achilles (with strict addition that it was for use in later years,) several wood carvings and pendants from the Myrmidons who had joined them for the festivities earlier as well as other thoughtful gifts from citizens of Pythia who had happened to have caught wind of the special day.
Patroclus, nevertheless, smiled shyly, extending his hand to accept the mysterious gift, "Thank you cousin I…"
"No," Achilles interrupted gently, "This is not from me."
Perplexed, the boy turned to Thetis expecting her to be the giver, but was met with raised eyebrows and a smile, "It is not my doing either, nephew."
Patroclus swallowed, "Then...who?"
He was meant with another smirk from his cousin, who shared a knowing glance with Achilles before sobering and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "This is a very special gift, Patroclus."
Instinctively, the boy glanced down at the object.
"Patroclus, this is from…" He took a deep breath… 'Wait, is Achilles...nervous?' thought Patroclus. He was sure he had never seen such an emotion from the golden warrior.
"Who, cousin?" He was barely able to contain the childlike eagerness and impatience in his voice. For if it made Achilles uneasy, it surely must be grand.
Another deep breath, and then blue matched blue as Achilles locked eyes with his young charge.
"Your parents."
Patroclus turned to stone, certain he had not heard correctly.
"Pardon?"
This time, Thetis came forward and spoke. "Your parents, Patroclus," she repeated as she gently took one of the boys hands in her own, stroking it in a very maternal way.
Patroclus was in a state of shock.
His parents?
That was impossible...his parents were gone. They had been for seven painstaking, wretched years. He had watched them be...he swallowed hard, closing his eyes as if to shut out memories...slaughtered on that cursed day, watched their bodies be burned on the pyres the following morning. He had spent all the cold nights afterward without them, endured the nightmares grieved and bade farewell…
He understood how gone they were. Unless… Surely not…?
Achilles must have caught the glimmer of suppressed hope that dared to sprout in his eyes, for he gently shook his head with a firm "No."
Patroclus sunk slightly, it had been a foolish thing to even think of. But… his mind slowly shifted back to the item in front of him.
"How-How could this be from," a gulp, "My parents?"
Achilles shifted again before speaking evenly. "On the morning you came to my home, do you remember the escort who brought you?"
"A slave of my mother's" Patroclus mumbled coldly, his eyes glazing over with thoughts of the past.
The older warrior nodded. "Yes. And after your Aunt Thetis had brought you inside, the slave woman presented me with this." He gestured to the item in front of him wrapped in the sheet, tapping it for emphasis. "She told me that once, years earlier, her mistress had shown her this and told her that, should anything ever happen to her and her husband, the slave was to immediately bring you, their son, into my care, and to bring this along with him."
Now, he took the gift in his man-slaying hands and eyed Patroclus, whose eyes were wide like saucers, eager for more to be told.
Achilles swallowed. "She presented me with the gift, and told me that the instructions of your mother were to give it to you on your 16th birthday. And now…"
"That day is here." Patroclus finished for him, his voice cracking with emotion.
Achilles nodded. Patroclus hand went cold as his aunt removed her gentle touch, moving her warm hands to now rub his shoulder soothingly in a one-arm embrace. Patroclus looked down at his lap, willing them not to see the tears pooling in his eyes. This was too much for him to bear. What could his parents possibly have to say to him , now, all these years after they'd been taken from him in the worst way possible, that could ease the pain? Especially on this day which was meant to be such a joyous occasion.
'One that should've been shared with them.' This time, a tear did escape the teenagers eye at the miserable thought.
Suddenly, the scroll was being placed on his lap by Thetis, who gently guided his chin up to meet her eyes and a reassuring smile, before wiping at her nephews eyes in a maternal gesture.
Patroclus, embarrassed, swiped her hands away (albeit gently) and did so on his own. He took a deep breath and reached with a trembling hand to pick up the small gift. He took his time untying the golden ribbon, and then letting the sheet fall lightly onto the table. There appeared to be nothing unusual about the scroll itself, although it did appear to be a bit aged if anything. Indeed, it looked in perfect condition. As if it were scribed that morning.
'And perhaps,' Patroclus thought bitterly, 'That was the intent.'
The boy felt the gazes of both his aunt and cousin rest on him, ever firm and calming in their presence but also slightly awkward at this particular moment. Nevertheless, he fingered open the scroll slowly, admiring painfully the beautiful script that could only belong to his handsome, strong, brave and wise father, Menoetius.
He stopped as suddenly the script became blurry, squeezing his eyes shut to push back the tears. He could do this. He would do this. For them.
Heart pounding, his eyes shifted to the top of the scroll, and he took a deep breath before beginning…
"To our son, on this, his 16th birthday. Patroclus, our beloved baby boy..."
And with those few tender words, the dam broke. A gasp and sob escaped the boy as he suddenly heard his mother's voice in his head through the words, recalling the fond title she called him by as if she had done so only yesterday. His breathing was wheezy as he shoved the scroll over to his cousin, allowing Thetis to take him gently into her arms as he squeezed his eyes shut tight, forcing himself to breathe deeply.
The Greatest Warrior nodded, understanding what the boy wanted.
He himself breathed deeply, before carefully opening the scroll, before commencing in as even a voice as he ever had.
To our son, on this, his 16th birthday
Patroclus, our beloved baby boy.
Our handsome, strong son. On this your 16th birthday, we want you to know that we love you more than all the treasures of the world. We are so proud of the boy you are, and the man we are certain you will become.
You, Patroclus, our cherished and only son, are special, remarkable and so dearly beloved. You are true of heart and noble of spirit. You are brave and courageous, but more importantly, you have a heart of gold. You are kind and pure, with a spirit of compassion in a world that needs it so badly. Never, never let yourself be told that having such a heart in a world of bloodthirsty warriors is weakness. Whoever tells you so are fools. Dearest son, having such a heart in our world is the greatest courage one can possess. Cling to the goodness in you, Patroclus, for it will serve you far better than you know.
Today, you take your first step into manhood. It is nearly an impossible idea to conceive that our beloved baby boy is now almost fully grown. Patroclus, promise us that you will strive not to become a great man, although that may come in time, but to become a good one. A man known for the goodness inside. Those may not have their names echoed in stories for centuries, but they will be most cherished by those around them. Strive to be a man of true honor, and of dignity. Be a man of kindness, which is not weakness, and of mercy, most especially. Strive also, Patroclus, to be a man who loves, loves passionately and is not remorseful for it. These are the men who make the world great.
Patroclus. Our treasured son. Our beloved baby boy. Listen to your cousin and your aunt. We left you in their able care because we know they love you as much as we do. Heed their words, son, and do as they say, for they say it with love, and with your best interests in mind. They are good people, and they are blood, son, never forget the meaning of that. Listen also, Patroclus, to your heart. It will guide you like no other.
Although we can not be with you in this life any longer, know that we will always live on in your heart, Patroclus. We will always be with you, until the day we meet again in the next life.
Though you are now becoming grown, you will always be our baby boy. Now go, and live the life of your dreams.
We love you Patroclus, always and forever, constant as the stars above.
S'agapάme, mama and papa.
As Achilles calm, smooth baritone read the last words, silence fell over the room.
Then, a sob.
Patroclus didn't realize that the sob had risen from his throat The tears streaming down my cheeks increased as I brought my hand up to cover my gaping mouth, and bent forward with a gut-wrenching sob.
'They're truly gone.'
The thought came freely and rawly, breaking his heart anew. He had lived with the grief of losing his parents ever since he had lost them seven years ago. He had dreamed of a moment like this, some closure at last…
But this...
Listening to the letter, he could almost hear his mother's sweet voice, his father's wise tone...he could feel their embrace, so familiar, even after all these years…
It was all too much for the poor young boy.
Patroclus sat there, hunched over, sobbing quietly for his lost parents, barely able to see for how hard he cried. His small frame shaking, his hair messy, the boy was truly a heartbreaking sight.
His head snapped up when he suddenly felt a presence beside him. His head snapped up, and he saw that it was his cousin, looking at him in the way so typical of one giving comfort to a griever. He had given Patroclus that look many times through the years.
The warrior opened his arms. "Come here cub," Achilles offered so gently it was almost lost in the night air.
Patroclus needed no further invitation. With another raw sob, he fell into the warmth of his cousins embrace, pressing himself into the elder's chest. Achilles stroked his dirty blond hair, cradling his head against his own heart, allowing the steady rhythm of life to calm the boy.
Thetis, meanwhile, had approached Patroclus from behind, stroking his back in a motherly gesture.
'The way mama would have.'
The thought broke Patroclus' heart anew, and he was thankful to find comfort in the arms of his cousin, which had chased away countless nightmares over the years. He knew this behavior was unbecoming of a boy his age, who, as of this day, after all, was taking the first step into manhood, but he didn't care. Right now, he missed his parents, and after everything he had been through in losing them, he felt he had earned the right to express his grief outwardly, even which even after all these years had not dimmed.
As the cool breeze danced outside, and the stars shone brighter with the lateness of the hour, all was calm and peaceful, as if paying its respects to the broken boy inside the home of the greatest warrior.
"Cub," Achilles whispered into his ear once his sobs had quieted some, " Patroclus, I know. I know, shhh." The boy sniffled in response, raising his head from his guardians chest to meet the blue eyes that matched his own perfectly. He shook his head.
"No, you don't, Achilles. You can never know the pain I feel," He sniffled miserable, "I could've protected them that night...I could've done something, I should have…"
He trailed off after a knowing look from Achilles, and a slight shake of the head. Thetis suddenly appeared in front of him, next to her son, and offered him a small cup.
"Here," She offered kindly, "Drink some. It will calm you."
Patroclus sighed, but complied and obediently drank what turned out to be warm tea. He wiped at his eyes and nose, and downcast his gaze.
"Patroclus," Achilles started gently, "Listen to me. There was nothing you could've done that night cousin. Nothing. You were a child, you still are, and the cruel act committed against your parents was no fault of your own, no matter what you think you could've done."
"He's right, dear nephew," Thetis interjected softly, taking the boy's hand and rubbing smooth circles, "No one can change what happened that night, tragic as it was, and undeserved, but this...,"
She picked the scroll up with her free hand, pressing it to the boy's chest lightly, covering it with his own hand, "This should not be cause for sadness. This should help you to remember that your parents are still here. That night did not truly take them away from you. As long as you remember them, love them and do all you can to make them proud, they live on."
Patroclus sighed and looked down skeptically at the scroll which now laid near his heart, enclosed in his hand. He wanted to believe her, more than anything, but how could he believe that his parents were still with him when he felt their absence so plainly? How could he believe they were here when they were so obviously gone? It nearly drove him to madness.
"My mother is right, Patroclus," his cousin's voice broke into his dark thoughts, "Loss is a part of life, though that doesn't take away the pain, but those we love, so long as we love them, never truly leave us."
Patroclus nodded absently, sniffling, wiping away another tear that had made its way down his cheek.
"Patroclus," This time his cousin's voice was firmer, bringing him to immediate attention, "Look at me."
He continued to stare at his lap, absently fiddling with his tunic.
He suddenly felt Achilles' calloused hand on his chin, gently but firmly guiding his gaze to look directly into his eyes.
"Patroclus. Do you trust me?"
The teenager was a bit taken aback by the sudden inquiry, but instantly sobered. "Completely."
"Are you sure?"
"More than anything, cousin." He had never meant anything more truthfully in his life.
Achilles detected no lie in the youngers tone. "Then trust me when I tell you that they will always be with you. Right here." He patted at the boy's heart a couple of times, before picking up the scroll which now rested weakly on Patroclus' lap, and pressing it towards the same spot.
"katalavaínoun?"
Patroclus nodded honestly, and now, feeling his own heartbeat underneath the scroll in his hand, he couldn't help but smile softly. He understood now. He was the very flesh and blood of his beloved parents. They clearly had faith in him, that he would become a man worthy of carrying on their legacy. It was up to him now, to carry on the lineage of Menoetius and to make his parents proud. He could do it. He would do it.
He looked back up at his beloved cousin and wise aunt Thetis, grinning down at him. He pulled both of them in for another embrace, causing them both to chuckle in surprise, their laughter dancing out into the night.
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The darkness and silence of midnight covered Greece like a blanket a few hours later, yet one Greek was not yet in bed.
Patroclus, while his nation slept soundly, crept silently over to a familiar spot in his wall and, with practiced ease slid the particular smooth stone out of its place near the floor.
Inside, his fingers immediately found it.
Small as ever, and just as rough, he removed the small wooden box from its hiding place, placing it on his lap, throwing a gaze over his shoulder to verify no one was coming, before opening it reverently.
Inside, there were his treasures.
No one knew of the contents of this box, not even his beloved cousin. It was his own secret. Inside, there were the things, (at least, the material things) that he held most dear. These were the minimal possessions he had had time to pack before being brought to his cousin's home. The only things he had left of his old life. These things were meant only for his eyes.
First, he picked up the old dagger his father had given him on his 10th birthday. It was small, meant for one untrained, but certainly serviceable should the need arise. He fingered the lettering on the handle engraved 'Πάτροκλος.' His name, whittled into the wood with care and intent.
The boy swallowed painfully, remembering the day his father had given this to him, and quickly placing it back in the box, lest he lose control.
His hands traveled next to the pearl necklace that rested beside it. This had been his mother's. He stroked the tender pearls. He remembered accompanying his father to the agorá to find this for her.
Next, came the small stuffed animal. The largest item in the secret box. Patroclus smiled in the dark to himself, chuckling softly, as he lifted the small lion to his chest. Argus, he had named him as a child. He clutched the small figure gently in its hands, careful not to damage its aging stitches. This toy, so simple, gifted to him from his darling mother, had comforted him from childhood fears of darkness and monsters far before he had come to know the protective arms of Achilles.
He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought that between Argus and Achilles, all his life, a lion had protected him.
He continued to stroke the fur of the animal as his finger strolled sleepily to the final item of his box of secrets. A small pouch full of knucklebones and marbles he had played with his friends back in his old village.
This time, he couldn't hold back a chuckle as fond memories flooded his mind. Oh yes, these had gotten him involved in mischief on many occasions.
He shook his head to clear it, lest he wake his cousin and aunt, before reaching behind him to retrieve the beautiful scroll, exquisitely written and bound in ribbon, that he had received this evening.
He sobered immediately.
Biting his lip, Patroclus held the scroll close to him next to Argus by his heart. He had never imagined hearing from his parents again, and although this scroll was written so long ago, he felt it was as though they had been in the room and spoken directly to him. He missed them, more than anything in the world, but he knew that he could do his duty as their son, and live the life they had asked of him. He would make them proud.
He brought the scroll to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on it, admiring it once again, before adding it to the collection of treasures in his secret box. He placed Argus down next to it, and, with one last reverent, nostalgic, longing look, closed the box.
He took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. It would be months or even longer until he allowed himself the indulgence of looking back into the box again. As had been his tradition since coming to live with his cousin, he would first allow the memories to fade, ever so slightly, until the contents of the box could remind him of their true meaning once again.
He looked forward to it.
Patroclus grinned as he placed the box back into its hiding place. He thought of Achilles and all of the adventures and laughs and even tears they had shared together, and then of Thetis and her maternal presence in his life. He thought of the love, happiness, and even peace that he had within his family. He thought of the scroll and its commission to him, resting beside the other gems of his childhood, all beholding dear, sweet memories. With one last gaze at the chest containing his most treasured material possessions, he placed the stone over it once more and stood up quietly, a smile never leaving his youthful face as he crawled back into bed.
Oh yes, his parents had left him with so much more than just a memory.
Télos
Greek Translations (courtesy of Google)
S'agapάme- We love you
Katalavaínoun?- understand?
Πάτροκλος- 'Patroclus' in its original Greek
Télos- The end