'O wretched countrymen! what fury reigns?
What more than madness has possess'd your brains?
The Aeneid- Book II (Spoken by Laocoon)
Although she was my mother, Aphrodite did not raise me. That task was laid upon my father, Anchises. Born within the folds of the greatest city ever fashioned by human hands, I was deemed a child of prophecy upon birth. Nestled tightly in the arms of my loving mother as she handed me over to my father, I awoke to the world. Little did I know then what task lay before me.
I grew up within the household of Priam. Being accepted into the family circle as if I were one of their own, I grew up alongside those whom history would never forget; Hector, Cassandra, Troilus and Helenus. From the very start they loved and cherished me. I recall a happy childhood, one of great joy and bliss. Hecuba had taken me in as her own, and till death had loved me as dear as any other son or daughter. My own mother visited often during my childhood, alone within the privacy of my chambers or out in the torch lit gardens overlooking the western quarter of Troy.
Always, upon every meeting, she'd take me into her arms and kiss my eyes. Crying, she'd stroke my young face and shed more tears.
"These eyes will see much, my son. My heart breaks to foresee what your eyes one day will" she'd say, holding me to her for hours on end. I remember my mother as being tall, much taller than Hecuba or even the Amazons who visited Priam. There was safety around her I cannot recall anymore. A safety I never felt again, a safety I'll never have again. Then she'd carry me to my chambers and set me down next to my sleeping father and disappear. Sometimes she'd lie down next to me and hold me until I fell asleep. But she was never there when I woke up, and soon, her visits became even more infrequent...
My father, being Priam's cousin and right hand, cherished me above all else. Upon my birth he had celebrated a feast with the rest of Troy and sacrificed two of his most beloved horses to the gods. He taught me all I know and all I will perhaps need to know. Being exceptionally skilled with horses, he trained me at six to ride a horse like a professional cavalryman. He hired a tutor to teach me the wielding of a sword and soon, he oversaw my lessons in language and history. But perhaps most of all, my father taught me love. He taught me to love all man and respect all those divine.
"All men have histories, Aeneas. Wives, children, parents; they all possess the ability to love. When you see your enemy before you, remember, he is neither a demon nor a beast. He is someone who loves and loves to be loved. He is a human and many are dependant on him. Be kind and devoted Aeneas, these qualities are far more useful than the wielding of a sword or the riding of a horse. In the end, you wont be remembered for how you kill, but who you kill...and with what compassion" He said, ruffling my raven locks. Taking me into his arms, he led me into the poorest quarter of Troy and into the temple of Hestia.
Journeying upon my father's shoulders through Troy, I was led into the massive temple. Said to be lit be a thunderbolt from Zeus himself, the fire was soon used a hearth by the founding families of Troy. Later, Priam's father had built a temple over it and consecrated it in the name of Hestia. My father brought me here often and always had me distribute the offering amongst the poorest of the city. This time, after handing out the meat, he took me into the marketplace and bought me my first self-chosen gifts: a statue of Aphrodite and a wooden sword.
We returned to the palace that afternoon and found out that a pregnant Hecuba had given birth to a beautiful son. But there wasn't any rejoicing for some odd reason. Everybody seemed sad and there were priests from the Oracle of Apollo. Hecuba was crying and Priam seemed stone faced. The babe, laid before the throne in a golden cot, played happily with a some trinket. I remember going up to the cot and looking into the eyes of the child. They were a blue both clear and pale, something akin to polished aquamarine. The child had put away its toy and was now looking intently at me. Around me, the voices of my elders seemed strained and sad.
"We must dispose of the child, your majesty. What your queen saw was indeed a vision, as it was shared by the oracle" one of the priests said, his dark eyes sad.
"Never!" Said Priam. "Paris will remain here with us. He is my son. How can he possibly be the downfall of this city?"
"The oracle states that as long as the child lives, Troy is not safe. His very birth is a curse upon our lands. He is like carrier of a plague. A plague he will bring upon this very city. You must do something, your Majesty" It was the priest again. He had taken off his heavy cloak and was now approaching the queen. "My Queen, Tell us again. What was the dream that you saw"
The queen was a pale white in a colour and was trembling. "I...cant" she forced herself to say.
"You must" Came the soft reply. "The fate of every soul within Troy rests on your shoulders"
Hecuba squared her shoulders and tried to look as regal as possible. Lines of worry creased her motherly face and a strange look burned within her violet eyes. The Queen of Troy was being forced to choose between her city and her son. Taking a soft step forward, the queen approached the cot and lifted the babe into her arms. She ran a pale hand through her son's golden hair and kissed his forehead, tears of sacrifice cascading down her lovely face.
"I saw myself give birth to him while Troy burnt around me. I was alone, surrounded by strange men and women waiting to kill me. I heard screaming from a distance and knew the people of Troy were safe no longer. Then one of my murderers killed Paris and the flames died, as did the screaming..."
Hecuba was shaking uncontrollably and the hold on the child was fierce. Kissing the forehead one last time, she looked deep into the babe's eyes and turned to hand the child to a priest. The majestic queen of Troy then shuffled out of the room, broken and defeated.
That night, I remember the lament of a woman. I absently wondered why my mother did not console her...