Disclaimer: Don't own, didn't happen.

"Block him! Block him!" Orestes shouted as he watched one of his own men fight inside the circle against Luther of Ithaca, "Lunge forward! Forward!"

His shouts could be heard above the cries of others as they raged on through the battle. Every man wanted their representative to win, so they can say they were the best. Some moments, he wished Zyra were there to see it continue; he knew she loved challenges...much like herself.

"I can see you train your men well," He heard her voice not far behind him. He turned to see her dressed in her robe, sheild and spear in hand, "Luther hasn't had a contest in quite some time..."

"He's no match for Barnabas," Orestes said to her, "I see you came well prepared,"

"All good warriors do..."

"I suppose so," Orestes smiled, then turned to the group of men, "Hault!"

The two men ceased their battle, stopping to stare at the princess. Zyra walked into the circle, observing the many soldiers that had been cheering on their winner.

"Who challenged me?" Zyra asked the group. No one spoke for a moment, until she repeated her question, "Who challenged me?"

"I did,"

Out of a wall of tall, muscular men came a equally tall but less built boy. Light brown locks swung around his oval face, while crystal blue eyes glittered like silver. She recognized him as Achilles's cousin, however, she did not know his name.

"And who might you be, boy?" Zyra asked,

"Patroclus," He answered, "Son of Menoetius, and I, Princess, challenge..."

"Brave boy," Orestes remarked, "Not many men would go to such a feat,"

"Please cousin," Zyra rose her hand to silence him, "Do not frighten to boy away."

"Over-confident, aren't we?" Patroclus laughed.

"Not confident, Patroclus, positive..."

"Then draw!"

Patroclus swung his sword towards her, but Zyra blocked his hit with her bronze shield. She retaliated with a strike against his shield. The men around them began to call out each of their names and cheer their player on. Their voices only encouraged Zyra more.

She became more fierce.

More angry.

More eager to win.

Zyra swished and waved her sword, which constantly collided with Patroclus's, going further than her best would let her. Ultimately, Zyra's sword ran through his shield, forcing Patroclus to toss it aside. Patroclus had thrust his sword with much more frustration now that he wasn't armed; he damaged Zyra's sheild just like she had his.

Now that neither of them were protected, the injuries would soon begin. Although, Zyra was beginning to see that Achilles's had trained his cousin well, since the boy moved exactly like him. If she had not know better, she would have mistaken him for Achilles.

Their swords clanged and met with each lunge, forcing each of the opponents to grow exhausted and strained. Then, Zyra cut underneath Patroclus, whom jumped to a great height, and ran her blade up the side of his toned bicep.

Patroclus backed away slightly, blood dripped quickly from his wound, but continued the fight. Zyra had missed his blade taking her head, but not from slitting her shoulder blade swiftly. Pain ached inside her shoulder, but she didn't let that stop her.

Silence had now taken over the group, as all the men watched in amazement as the two fought. Patroclus's sword ran on the side of Zyra's leg, slicing through her robe; Zyra's blade grazed his cheek.

At one point, their swords met. Zyra entangled hers with Patroclus's, compelling him to lose his sword. Zyra pointed her sword against his neck, while the group around them cheered as Patroclus, neck-deep in embarrassment, rose his hands. The fight was over.

"Patroclus!" A demanding voice called over the praising crowd.

Achilles appeared from behind his men, looking at the damaged sight of his cousin. Zyra dropped her sword to the side, it landing with a small clang.

"What have you done?" Achilles asked the princess.

"Ask your cousin, he was foolish enough to go against me-"

"Only because you flaunted your skills-"

"I wouldn't have done it if you had just consented-"

The two began to argue as people began leaving the circle. Only Patroclus and Orestes stood, watching and listening as their cousins feuded.

"I wouldn't be here if your father would have held onto his wife-"

"My mother's a whore and I know it! No need to tell me so!"

"Will you two stop it?!" Orestes shouted finally, "This is ridiculous. Achilles," He called the warrior's attention, "This was simply a contest for play. No one knew it would get so-"

"Violent?" Achilles scoffed, "She knew..."

"Don't you dare blame me for your cousin's stupidity!"

"Enough!" Orestes called once again, "You two fight like an old married couple..."

"Cousin," Patroclus's soft voice came into hearing distance, "I only wished to prove myself. If I could fight you, I wondered how I do against the best-"

"Terribly," Zyra retorted.

"Zyra!" Orestes hissed, "Stop."

"It's a real shame when the cousin of such a great warrior is defeated by a woman-"

"Zyra..."

"I can show you," Patroclus replied, "I will leave you on the ground-"

"Didn't do so well today,"

"Zyra," Orestes took his cousin's arm, "Let it go. Achilles, I will see you on the battlefield tomorrow morning,"

The two went their separate ways, completely unaware of the danger and tragedy that was just above Apollo's head...