I awoke the next morning to the sea breeze being particularly strong in our chambers, which meant that I had a visitor: Mother.

I dressed myself and went down the beach. Helios's chariot just arose over the horizon, ready to make its morning ascent. I stepped into the water.

To get my mother's attention, I simply said her name. When she had first left, she said that all I needed to do to have her by my side was to say my name at any beach with my feet in the ocean. She would be there in two minutes at the most.

Her long dark hair glistened in the dawn's early light. Helios accented her fishlike features. Her body dripped with water and ocean foam.

"Achilles, my son. I am most blessed by Lord Zeus to see you this morning."

"Same sentiment belongs to me as well, Mother."

"Achilles, how is your training?"

"Good. My teacher says I am the best he has ever seen."

"Perfect. Achilles, how is your lyre playing?"

"Good. My teacher says I am the best he has ever seen." Mother asked about lyre and training every time we spoke. I always gave the same answer, even though it was true.

"Achilles…"

I had noticed for a while that my mother said my name whenever she could. She liked how it rolled across her tongue, but I have never been able to confirm. Eileithyia, goddess of childbirth, chose it. "Distress." I was a difficult labor, my mother once said. Gods do not usually feel pain at all, but she did in my labor. I had been born feet first and that, plus my mortal blood, causes distress to goddesses in childbirth. Discomfort is a foreign concept to gods.

"My son? Did you hear what I said?"

"No, Mother. My apologies. My mortal mind cursed me to wander from your sweet words." To prevent Mother's anger, I only needed to invoke my mortality, I mused.

"I said that your father told me you had a friend. Who is he?"

"His name is Patroclus, and he is the prince of this land." I concealed my astonishment from her. Other than the lyre and my training, and occasionally (with gritted teeth) my father, she never asked about anything concerning my mortality or any other mortal.

"Patroclus. Glory of the Father." She turned away for a moment, the slightest hint of concern showed on her face. Concern from my mother was rarer than a blood red moon or a darkened sun. My mother enjoyed those rare occasions of eclipse and ensured I saw any one she was able to swim to. But those were moments of joy, not concern.

"Are you sure you want to be friends with him? He is weak, his father detests him. Glory of the Father indeed."

"Yes, and I do not care what his father thinks of him. I only care what I think of him." She too wanted me away from him. Why did everyone I meet or knew undervalue him? He is the best person the gods had allowed to exist.

"He is an ignoramus. He will hinder your path to deification."

"I wholeheartedly disagree." Mother had wanted me divine and immortal the moment I was born. Even if I did become a great hero and deified, Patroclus would have no bearing on my actions.

She sighed.

"One day, you will see that I am right. I must attend to your grandfather. Lord Dionysus sent him some wine, and he did not manage it well."

She kissed my forehead.

"Goodbye, my Achilles."

She dove back beneath the wine dark waves. The froth she made barely splashed in my face before she was gone.

I went back to the palace and as I entered, I saw King Menoetius. I greeted him as per custom, and he responded in kind.

"My Lord Achilles, under the laws of xenia, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Of course, my king. How can I serve you?"

"I noticed that you and my son have become close in the past day or so. Word amongst the servants is that you are both best friends now."

"Yes, that is true. We are best friends."

"I do not think you should continue to be so." Patroclus inadvertently warned me of this last night….

"With all due respect, my king, what is your logic? I am confused why a father does not support his son."

Menoetius sighed.

"A fair question. He is a constant disappointment and has marred every relationship with local nobility. He trips often and is frequently indecisive and pensive. He does not do sport well. Instead of sport, he stays inside and reads. He cannot manage his emotions; he cries often. It would have been better for him, me, and the entire kingdom of Opus if he had never been born. It would be a boon for everyone if he fell over and di…"

"Do not finish that statement if you want to avoid a beating."

Menoetius's mouth went agape: insolence from a boy, a threat of violence from a guest. Violations of xenia.

I felt a fury then; a fury I had never felt before. This…this man…not only openly hates his son…but wishes for the undoing of the son's life to complete strangers. Also…how could he be so wrong? Patroclus had the best heart, the best wit, the best mind, the best soul. I had known him for less than two days. If a stranger could see that, why could not his own father?

"Your son is the best person the gods have ever created. Words to explain why exist, but the reasons cannot be delineated with justice. I will not listen to you wish for your own son's death. You have insulted my friend and therefore me. In honor of my father, I will not tell him of the offense you have just committed. I am going to take my leave."

I left him behind in utter confusion. How could everyone be against this friendship…and why?

I tried to find Patroclus, but to no avail. I spent the better portion of an hour in the palace looking. I headed outside into the gardens to search there. I saw our fathers walking together and I hid myself in the plants.

"Menoetius, I want to apologize for my son's behavior."

"Your son threatened me earlier because I spoke the truth about my son. It is clear to me that your son is infatuated with mine."

"That cannot be. He is obsessed and he is ten. He is not old enough to be attracted to…"

"My apologies, I did not mean it that way. Your son is obsessed with mine; your words were a better way to phrase it. I leave it in your hands, but our kingdoms' ties are not as stable as they were before you came. Your son's obsession endangers all we have worked for."

They walked past me, and luckily did not see me.

I sat for a moment agape. I was not obsessed with him, I enjoyed him. The world kept saying we were not compatible, not destined to be. Their doubts and anger only emboldened me. We are and will be best friends and will be until the day I die. I would not spend a single day without him by my side. I swore it while crouched in the bush. He would be my future. Damn my father, damn Menoetius, damn the world: it will be fact. Patroclus and I will be comrades in arms, best friends, and no one will stop me in ensuring its fruition! *

I found Patroclus amongst a few other boys. They surrounded a pit, a foundation for some new building. It seemed to me they mocked Patroclus; some dice and other toys eschewed by the boys to chase a bigger target. Their faces grumbled, and Patroclus's was saddened.

But upon seeing me, he became elated and waved me over. His smile drew me in, his gapped teeth showed his innate joy. I heard a bit of what he had said as I ran over.

"See, I told you he exists! Achilles!"

The boys went agog as I had done earlier. Patroclus smirked.

"My friend, let me introduce you to my subjects: the sons of the nobles of Opus. My subjects, let me introduce you to Lord Achilles, Prince of Pythia, my best friend."

I bowed deeply. They murmured, "The goddess's son?" "Peleus the Argonaut's boy?" "Him?" "Why?" "How?" "That blackguard has him as a friend?"

I glanced towards Patroclus, and he absorbed their shock and amazement like a seal absorbs sunshine on a rock by the sea. The warmth of his pride and joy spread throughout his body. It also spread throughout my own. He smiled at me, and the warmth spread faster through me. The power of friendship, I surmised.

"You are incredibly blessed, my Lord Patroclus, to have subjects who are incredulous at the smallest iota of facts. They berate their own prince, which is treason where I am from. You are not traitors, are you?"

The boys' faces reddened in embarrassment.

"If he is to be king, then I'd stage a coup. Perhaps even a beheading."

We all turned: another boy just joined the group. His green hawklike eyes narrowed onto his target.

"Patroclus is an ironic name: Born to glorify his father, but all I see is a walking piece of excrement that even his father wishes to wipe away but cannot."

I glared and growled: "Who asked you? Who the Hades are you?"

"I am Megalalo Peotides. And who in Hades are you?"

"I am Achilles Pleiades, Lord of Pythia. And you are insulting my friend."

Megalalo's anger extended out of his head and into his fire red hair. "I do not care about your friend. Or you. It seems to be that you are gifted in insanity to think a piece of bullshit is worthy of amity. You are the only one in this kingdom to even consider him not to be."

He grabbed the dice and toys that Patroclus and the other boys left on the ground.

"I took your dice. I took everything you have."

Patroclus stood up, and said "Give them back, Megalalo. I order you as prince." He pushed the boy back.

Megalalo laughed heartily. "Oh, do you want them back? Here you go, Your Highness!"

He started throwing them back at Patroclus. When he ran out, he jumped on Patroclus, and rained blows upon him.

Patroclus tried to fight back but could not stop the blows. The other boys stood there: some cheered on Megalalo, the others remained silent.

I cannot remember what happened next. I was angry. Terribly angry. My memory went black.

Patroclus later said I jumped right on top of Megalalo and pummeled him. I slammed him to the ground and did not stop hitting him. Patroclus pulled me off him and tried to calm me.

Megalalo laughed again, "Patroclus, I am impressed you got a bitch who is willing to defend you. You two deserve each other. And yet, you do not deserve to live."

I replied: "Neither do you."

I broke free of Patroclus and pushed the offender. He lost his balance and fell into the foundation.

Patroclus told me all that I did later. I could not remember anything at all. What I remember next is Patroclus crying. That broke me out of my rage.

"Patroclus, what's wrong?"

"Achilles, you pushed him down twenty feet!"

We gazed down into the foundation pit. The boy Megalalo was not moving.

Oh. Oh no. Please, let him be alive. We are in so much trouble.

I immediately jumped down into the pit. I touched the body. Blood oozed from his head; it cracked open. His chest remained motionless. Bones broken; parts were protruding from beneath the skin.

Patroclus landed two feet behind me. Tears were pouring down his face. I had to turn from him. I could not stand looking at him while he was sad.

Patroclus yelled frantically: "Is he okay? Please, dear Zeus, let him be okay!"

I gulped. "He's dead."

This was not good.

Margin Notes, Written in My Hand

*Nobody except myself. I did make it so. For my entire life, except for those years on Scyros, he was my comrade. I breathed his musk every waking moment and his name every night. And now, my ill-fated pride took me away from him again. I cannot! I cannot! I cannot defy the Pact! I cannot go to Elysium. Now we are not as we were. I yearn for him, and he has forgotten me! Why must I be tortured so? Nevertheless, I will write. I have seen the benefits and will continue in my quest for satisfaction. One day I will hear of his triumphs in Elysium, and I will smile. He is in Paradise and will forget about me. I hope. Lethe is there for him. Ah, I wish it were here for me!