Chapter Thirteen: Beloved Enemy

She was beautiful, simply beautiful kneeling in the shallow rock pool by the sea, on the shore of what ages of men named Larisa. Tumbles of auburn curls arranged in braided plaits with turquoise beads, blue as her cornflower eyes, gleamed elegantly in the parade of sunlight. So enchanting was her voice, so regal her manner and her lovely willowy form that even Zeus himself had barely restrained his lust for her. Nereid she were, sea-nymph, and mother of Achilles, the son destined to be mightier than his father. This was why Zeus refrained from claiming his time in Thetis's bed, the prophecy that a child greater in all respects than his sire would be born to her.
Achilles watched her wade the clear water where that she loved so, collecting bits of shell from the sandy sea floor. It was reluctantly that he intruded upon her peace and the ease of the afternoon but there was nothing for it, he must speak with her. Courageous and bold though he was, perhaps invulnerable save his heel where his mother held him as she dipped him into the river Styx, he could not see before his time. Her wisdom and foresight, her undemanding company, were his dearest wants just then.
Stepping into the water and walking towards his mother, he watched the sun refract on the ripples his passing stirred.
"I knew they would come for you. Long before you were born… I knew they would come." the wind blew gently, mussing his hair as he stopped to listen, folding his arms loosely. She turned to face him, the delicate lines on her face deepened as she whispered, "They want you to fight in Troy."
Gold lion, some called him, but Achilles could not summon the strength to meet her eyes. Thetis nodded slightly as if she understood the conflict ruining him within.
"I'm making you another seashell necklace. Like the ones I used to make you when you were a boy…" She bent down to retrieve a rounded shell that shimmered faintly pink in the direct attention of the sun. She laughed as she turned it this way and that. "Do you remember?"
Achilles, out of habit to help his mother, folded his body and lifted a shell. He examined it without seeing it.
"Mother…" He dropped it with a belated plunk into the knee high pool. "… tonight I decide. Patroclus has determined to go, with or without me. He gives the honor of Greece as his reason." Achilles laughed bitterly. "He goes to his death. And how can I abandon him to it? How now do the gods force me to decide between the love of my blood and the love of my soul? Tell me now mother. What do you see?"
"If you stay in Larisa…" her preternaturally bright eyes flickered as if she were watching events behind the brilliant blue that no one else could see, imparting to him as she witnessed it. Carefully she told him, "You will find peace. You will ask me to help you forget, and I will. Your beloved as you know him will be known to your heart no longer as Alexandros, and Patroclus will be a name whispered only by the dead in far away Troy. You will find a wonderful women. You will have sons and daughters, and they will have children. And they will love you." She toyed distractedly with the thumb-sized shells in her palm. "When you are gone, they will remember you."
Taking a step through the water, rolling the shells, Thetis sighed, knowing she could not leave the picture incomplete, adding "But when your children are dead and their children after them… your name will be lost."
Achilles frowned hard, shifting his feet.
Clasping her hands together, Thetis lowered her head and met her son's angry, confused eyes. Walking up to him and tipping her head back, with all of the dignity of a goddess, she painted before him his other possible future, resigned to the choice she already knew he would make.
"If you go to Troy… glory will be yours. They will write stories about your victories for thousands of years. The world will remember your name. But if you go to Troy…" She desperately cupped his cheek, searching his conflicted face with all the knowing of a mother. She found her answer, sadly. "You will never come home. For your glory walks hand in hand with doom."
Releasing his face she gathered herself and stepped back, proudly baring her pain. "And I shall never see you again."
Averting his face, Achilles found a small measure of peace that his decision had been made, but beyond the confirmation of it, his soul screamed.

At the helm of his ship with black sails, crewed by his loyal Myrmidons fifty strong, Achilles stared out across the sea toward Troy, sending his prays, rare things in themselves, to his beloved enemy.

TBC...
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