I stand at the bow of my Lords sleek black ship, waves creep up onto the
deck splashing at my feet. Suddenly, I am reminded of how much I hate the
sea. If it is war that they wish, I wish them to leave me in my peace, it
is not my battle, so why do I have to fight for someone that I have never
seen, someone who will gladly order me to die, in a useless cause. In my
heart I know that we will win, that it obvious, we are in the gods favor
and Achilles fights for the Greeks. I do not fear the thought that we will
return to our lands in the shame of defeat. What pains me so is the fear of
my own demise, to remain nameless never to be remembered as a hero. I do
not fear death, though I do not welcome it, I wish to live through these
terrible times, to return home to my love. My father, bid me go, saying
that he is to old to fight and yet he comes still, a councilor to my lord.
The days stretch long, I grow weary, sleepless nights uncountable. It seems as though an eternally has passed, finally there is a glimpse of the land of Troy, my stomach churns at its sight, our sleek black ships will reach it's white shores soon. A storm is coming and I am afraid that I can do nothing but consume myself in it, too late for me to turn back now. If it is the gods will for me to fight, I will.
It seems like no time that Troy's thick walls are in view, I am urged to put on my armor. On the main deck I look about my comrades, all dawning brandished bronze armor, helmets flashing in the bright, hot sun; I am no different from them, a faceless sheep waiting for the slaughter. Tightly, I grip my dark spear, feeling the roughness beneath my grasp, in my other hand I hold a thick heavy shield, at my waist a broad bronze sword, I am ready to meet my fate now, were it be death or not I am ready to fight. Our ship hits the white sand of Troy and I jump off to the smooth sand of Troy. No longer will the wise words of my father help me now, I am on my own, the gods hold my fate now.
.
The end
The days stretch long, I grow weary, sleepless nights uncountable. It seems as though an eternally has passed, finally there is a glimpse of the land of Troy, my stomach churns at its sight, our sleek black ships will reach it's white shores soon. A storm is coming and I am afraid that I can do nothing but consume myself in it, too late for me to turn back now. If it is the gods will for me to fight, I will.
It seems like no time that Troy's thick walls are in view, I am urged to put on my armor. On the main deck I look about my comrades, all dawning brandished bronze armor, helmets flashing in the bright, hot sun; I am no different from them, a faceless sheep waiting for the slaughter. Tightly, I grip my dark spear, feeling the roughness beneath my grasp, in my other hand I hold a thick heavy shield, at my waist a broad bronze sword, I am ready to meet my fate now, were it be death or not I am ready to fight. Our ship hits the white sand of Troy and I jump off to the smooth sand of Troy. No longer will the wise words of my father help me now, I am on my own, the gods hold my fate now.
.
The end