Silence filled the night air as the new born opened her eyes to the world. She was bundled in a soft blue blanket and placed on the bed, beside her mother, the goddess.
"Helen" Her mother whispered, weary from the delivery and gazed at last at her god-like daughter, who even in her first moments of life, was a gorgeous creature. The mortal husband stood below Mount Olympus, waiting news of his new born, for the child would live with him, only a true and full god deserved a place among the clouds and this darling little girl, was not immortal.
And as Helen lay, screaming on the bed, in another part of the castle on the mountain, there was a boy of three years, also crying.
"Thank you, Zeus" the goddess bowed again and Zeus still held her boy by his feet, and holding one foot, dipped the boy into the potion, the ever lasting potion, for Zeus had seen the boys future.
"Your son Achilles will be the greatest fighter" Zeus said and the boy was quickly wrapped into a blanket and taken to the same bed, placed beside the new born Helen as both the mothers stood together, staring at their darling children and the gift given to them, and as Helen screamed and cried, Achilles did nothing, but shed a silent tear, reflecting how each of them would die, years later.
The baby Helen ceased her crying and turned to glance at the boy, laying beside her, their wide blue eyes taking in each other, everything, even their own blonde hair and fingers and toes, and she grabbed his finger, wrapping her tiny hand around it and held tight finally the two mortal-god like beings, fell into a peaceful sleep, for the next time they met, one would die.
High above, these two children were loved and cherished, yet far below, a Trojan boy would make destiny.
The baby was handed to the herder "the king says kill it" the soldier said and left the herder.
He glanced at the boy, one year of age, the boy smiled and cooed, showing off his toothless smile and big round brown eyes, laughing and giggling, but none the less, the herder ran to the Cliffside, to plummet the baby to his doom. Something inside him stopped and he smiled at the child, unable to let it go, 'ill drop it into the river' he thought and ran towards the river along the mountain side, near to his home, yet he kept climbing and climbing, until he reached his home, where something inside him snapped, and knocking on his own door, gave his wife inside, a gift they could have never had, a baby. They smiled brightly as they called the boy Paris, unaware of his real name, the destruction that would come, or even why he had to be killed.
The boy's brother, older by two years, sat in the castle, unaware of the change. Aware of nothing but hi toy sword, for even in his first few years of his life, he had began toying with swords and learning how to handle them. Later, he would be a great warrior, one to be remembered.