Broken:
Introduction to Dysis

Disclaimer: I do not own Troy or Homer's poem!

Summery: In the time of war one life may seem insignificant compared to the numerous amount of others, but that one life may be what brings change to an empire. A story of a woman who only needs to know herself to know her greater purpose in the fabric of life. But can she find herself in time to help? HA PH M(Mestor)OC

AN: Here's the beginning to my first Trojan story! Whoop Whoop! I should have an update to this story atleast twice a week. Should being the keyword there. Ne who, take your time, read the chapter, and if your real nice review and tell me what you think. WinkWink

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She sat at an old wooden table just in back of her father's tavern a rustic looking pale filled to the brim with cool water and a tattered rag at her side. Her dull green eyes scanned over the soiled mess at her feet. The tavern had long been empty though she still sat cleaning and scrubbing it for the next day's patrons. Apparently, earlier that night, a man was celebrating an extremely good time with women and wine, lots of wine, and not just any wine but her father's strongest. From the looks of the floor that man did not hold the liquor well, but then again few men did.

The young woman pulled herself from the uncomfortable seat she had been relaxing in and began scrubbing the floor. The same routine she has always accomplished day in and day out. There has to be more, she thought as she swirled the rag over the mess removing it from her father's beautiful fortress. She was tired and her body worn, this was not a woman's work. A woman has work but not this; she should be out dying and re-dying linens, washing linens, tending her siblings or making offerings to the Gods. Where was her brother? He should be working for he is the one who will inherit this drunken palace, not her.

Her usually enchanting presence had diminished leaving behind this sulky wry girl who barely leaves a mark on anyone's presence. She is not a beauty by society; her tanned skin with blotches of red proving her to be of working class, her long unruly sandy brown curls with her unusual green eyes, her broken nails caked with dirt and her smudged face. No she was not a great dove like Helen, though there was a sense of mystery and adventure that lingered in her aspect.

She finally finished scrubbing and dropped the torn rag into the pale sitting quietly by herself ignoring the small commotion on the street. The tavern door creaked open and a shadow cast over into the dimly lit tavern. She didn't even turn around to see who it was, she merely picked up the pale and spoke with her back turned. "Sorry we're closed for the night. Please shut the door behind you."

"Oh, well if you're closed," the man spoke in a raspy weathered voice though he was young.

The woman turned gawking at his sight, "Galen, dear brother, you should have been here hours ago cleaning with father, instead I was forced into this unnatural labor." She seethed as she chucked the soggy rag at his face.

Galen caught the object in his callused hand and smiled innocently at his sister. He stood tall with dark curls angling his face and a sharp nose protruding from it. "Well, my dear Dysis, if I hadn't been out celebrating my summoning to be a soldier in this upcoming offense, I would have been here." He threw the rag back missing Dysis by an inch.

Dysis collected her mixture of emotions from that comment, "Nice throw." With that she turned and walked into the back of the tavern picking up the rag as she walked, pale in her other hand.

"Is that it?" Her brother called, following her into the back. "No congratulations Galen you've been excepted into society, or great Galen now you have a chance to show your worth?" Dysis slammed the bucket down on a counter, water sloshing out over the sides.

"Okay, congratulations Galen you get to die for a cause that is weaker than this ragged scrap of cloth!" She squeezed the remaining water from the fabric emphasizing her point.

If looks could kill, Dysis would have died a thousand times over by Galen's stare. "Now what's that supposed to mean? Just because your younger brother has a chance to make a name for himself you have to go all insane because you're jealous?"

"Jealous? Ha!" Dysis grabbed the pale and opened the back door tossing the dirty water out, only amidst her rampage she did not realize whom she had tossed it on. She slammed the door turning back around to face Galen. "You have a lot to learn boy if you think that I would be jealous of you running off into battle for her!" She pointed out the window directly across at the palace which could scarcely be seen through the haze of buildings.

Dysis walked to the front of the tavern snatching her cloak from the table and wrapping up in it. Galen appeared from the back, "atleast she has more extravagant features than you would ever hope to poses!"

Dysis shot him an icy glare for a warning, "atleast I'm not blinded by that whore's innocence! She has brought with her an epic battle, one I fear we cannot survive! And Paris, that dumb bruit, couldn't know how to hold a sword none the less realize the devastation he would reek upon our land every night he were to bed her!"

She yanked open the door, "hello father, maybe you can talk some sense into your son!" She looked over the elderly man, "maybe fetch a towel to dry off with as well!" She said in an uproar before taking off down the street.

"Yes, maybe." He glanced at his daughter skeptically, his hair dripping droplets of water on the floor, before stepping into the tavern. His soaked feet slopped against the dry ground. He acknowledged Galen, "you've done a fine job of angering your sister."

"Well you've prepared her for this moment her entire life. I'm afraid that she'll have a bigger role to play in this war than we expect."

His father peered back at him, "I imagine so with that temper, I imagine so." He shook his head and walked shakily up the stone steps to his chamber.

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Dysis walked casually down the street minding her own business; few people were out at that hour of the night so it was very simple for her to stay to herself. Her sandals dragged into the dirt so she slid them off and carried them with her as she walked steadily, one foot in front of the other. The light of the moon shown down on her, causing her matted tresses to glow into a sort of silvery blond.

She ignored her hidden beauty and clenched her cloak around her body tighter trotting through the streets occasionally noticing a passer by. Her aged burgundy gown shuffled over the stones and dirt becoming frayed at the ends. She turned onto the road just in front of the palace; the enormous fortress could not please the Gods more, for at almost every corner there was a statue honoring them.

Dysis halted in the middle of the road and doubled over in prayer. Her whispers were to the Goddess Athena and the God Ares, whose statues stood over her on either side of a palace balcony, for a watchful eye over her brother and the soldiers of Troy's army. She spoke soft and quickly not wishing to spend to long in the presence of the royal blooded of whom she hated with a passion.

"Where are you going!?" Came a woman's shout from above.

"To the balcony for some air! Don't fret too much over trivial things, my love!" Dysis' eyes pried themselves from the ground to peer up at the gallant man whose voice she clearly heard.

His eyes were wide and focused on her; for the first time in her life Dysis was in awe and frightened by this man's very presence all at once. He beamed down at her as if he were a king, watching her every move, she stood slowly not trying to bring any alarm. He was handsome with broad shoulders, a straight back, and thick beard with wisps of mahogany hair floating in and out of his face.

"Hector? Come to bed with me, my sweet." The woman stepped out on the balcony covering him with her warm embrace.

Dysis pulled her hood over her head in a hurry and scurried off down the street, cursing her heart for betraying her mind all the while.

"Who was that? Hector?" His gaze moved from the empty spot bellow the balcony to the dove at his side.

"No one, a peasant praying. No worries." He gave a false smile before escorting his wife back into her chamber and into her bed.

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Dysis placed her back against a foreign building and began to mutter incoherent swears. She slid down the coarse wall and kicked at the dirt with furry before turning on her side to gaze at the palace. "A citadel of snobs and tricksters that's all and nothing more. They are no good other than a bad dream that one must have occasionally to wake them up to the real world. There is nothing there for me, nothing at all."

She rolled back over on to her back and peered down at her bare feet a bellow of angst escaped her tender lips, "Cursed by the Gods, I am!" Her gaze shifted down the road to where her sandals lie, I'm not going to get them now not after that! "Father's going to sell me into slavery once he finds out about this!" Dysis pulled herself from the ground and hurried down the dirt path, watching the sun beam through on the horizon hoping that with the rise of this glorious new day her troubles of the night before would be swept away.

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AN: Well that's it for the first chapter! Hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are welcome! I'll update again in about two days so until then, ado!

Quote: We men are wretched things.