Chapter Seven

Apollo, the god of the sun, music, and prophecy is furious about this war. To save Troy, he must risk everything, and do everything in his power- even if it means reconciling with the love that he lost.

Apollo sat silently in rage. A heat that burned his body boiled his blood. It boiled inside him like a sandstorm; never stopping, only getting tumultuous in his fury. His lips curled. In his mind, the inevitable image of the future loomed before him. The truth had never come so close before. A devastating song hummed hauntingly in his ears as if the sun was blocked from the Earth and the world was coming to an end.

Troy, my beautiful city, was under siege by the Greeks. How dare they? Troy was not something to trample on. Troy was the glory that was too blinding for their eyes. Troy, the mother land full of holiness and beauty. Trojans love me, and I certainly without a doubt love Troy in return. Troy is my child, a city created with my own energy and power. I could not stand it. The war gave me pains and weaknesses.

I had to do something.

I didn't waste another second. I was thinking in part anger, but there was still sanity within my mind, enough for me to act calmly. I made a plan in a flash. The plan was too risky, yes; but it certainly would be worth trying. There was nothing else I could think of. And it had a good chance of working. I sought to confess my regrets to Cassandra and, above all, inform Paris of the secrets from his past, and the truth as well.

I had slight butterflies nestling in the pit of his stomach as I flew down from Olympus. I was going to the Palace of Troy to see Cassandra. I got sick every time he thought of her. The ill curse, her beautiful face. It just did not go together. And I was here to change all that.

I arrived with the wind, invisible, but with the eyes of an owl. I gazed at Cassandra in her room as she slept. I appeared before her bed, veiled by the magic of invisibility. I stood over her like a guardian angel. I wanted to be her guardian angel.

I caressed her brow once and she opened her eyes. Some of my madness cooled down. Cassandra barely bolted from her bed. She very well knew who was looking at her. She gulped and turned to face me.

"Apollo, God of the sun, music, and prophecy, why have you come?" Cassandra said.

"Shh, darling, it's alright." I assured her, comforted her. I held her between my two arms. I felt her relax.

"What do you want with me? The last time you came to me you cursed me and got your wish. What is it this time?" Cassandra asked bitterly.

"I know, darling. It is for my actions that I have visited you. Do you know that I am deeply, truly regretting what I have done? Oh, Cassandra, I do not know why I did it! Love tends to drive you mad, you know, don't you?"

When Cassandra didn't respond right away, I repeated, with more tenderness:

"Don't you?"

Cassandra nodded. I was relieved that she understood me. "But what you did to me was not out of love. It was out of anger. Loving someone does not mean that you can chain them. You know of the horrors I see in my dreams each day. We have something alike, you and I- we can see the future. But because of you, others think I am insane." At this, Cassandra almost wept out loud, but kept her sorrow within herself.

I remembered my reason for coming here.

"I do not ask for forgiveness. But I have come here searching for aid. I ask you to help me, Cassandra, to win this war."

"What are you talking about? It has been foreseen… the war is already lost… it is all but a matter of time before the Greeks destroy us."

"Ah, dear, that does not mean that anything cannot be changed. My plan is simple. I will lift your curse. After that, everyone will start to believe your predictions of the future. Then they will listen to you, obey your orders. Imagine the power you will have over them; over Troy. That, my love, is the first step to winning this war. This war was nothing but a mistake. If actions are taken, we can save hundreds of thousands. Maybe more."

Cassandra nodded. "I do not see why you are doing this, Apollo. I thought you hated me."

"My beloved, helping me goes hand in hand with lifting your curse and freeing you. To save Troy, I must save you first. And if I love Troy, I cannot possibly hate you- for you are one of Troy's most treasured jewels. I have had a change of heart. But, my love, I ask you one thing in return of your freedom from this prison. One kiss. That is all I ask."

"Promise that the Trojans will be well protected under your guard."

"Granted. You can trust me."
Cassandra gave me a light kiss on the lips, and for a while I was in a trance; intoxicated by her.

"Thank you. Prophecy is all I have to give. That was my gift to you. I wanted you to be gifted. But what I didn't realize was that you already were gifted."

Cassandra said, "For you to love me truly, I do not need anything more than yourself. That is gift enough for me."

"I cannot. I cannot show myself. But know this, Cassandra. If you should ever take another man as your husband, at least remember that I shall always carry a special place in my heart for you."
"Now I will see your brother, Paris. Please do not hate him. He has been hated enough. You must remember that it was not his fault that he is a pyromaniac. He was born that way."

"And what of Paris' fate?"

"That, Cassandra, you shall see soon enough."

I went to Paris' room. Like all of Troy's sons he was strong, hearty, but he lacked one thing:

Courage.

Yet I didn't lose faith in him. I would help Paris.

"Wake up, Paris."

There was movement in the bed followed by a groan. The boy had been fast asleep.

"Who are you?" Came a sleepy voice.

"It is I, Apollo, God of Troy."

"Apollo?" Paris replied shakily. "Please tell me why you have come. If I have committed any sin that has made you unhappy, I will do whatever you ask to purify myself."

"No, no, boy. I have come on business. Thank you for your loyalty. It is not often that I come across Trojans like you."

"What business?"

"Tell me, Paris, do you know what happened in your past? Everything that happened in your past?"

"No, I'm afraid not, Apollo. My family prefers to keep it a secret. They say it'll hurt me so much that it's better for me not to know."

"They are mistaken. The truth should never be hidden from you. I have come to tell you the secrets of your past. Come, ask me anything."

Paris pondered for a while. At last, he said, "I've been hearing that when I was little, my parents dropped me at the side of a cliff to die. But someone found me, surviving on a bear's milk for four days. Is it…true?"

Paris sounded scared.

"It is, Paris. You see, there was prophecy that I knew before your birth- that you will bring destruction to Troy. You are a pyromaniac. You live on fire. With that passion, you will destroy Troy. That passion is Helen. Do you understand?"

"Our love?"

"Exactly. You have the strongest love for her- a love stronger than most of mortals have lived to experience, a beautiful love that will be recorded in poetry thousands of years after you die. But your passion will be lethal if you do not control it."

"I love Helen. I cannot live without her…"

"I know, Paris. Sometimes, though, a man must choose between love and honor. Your desires, or the welfare of your country. You must choose, Paris. You cannot have both love and honor at the same time… it is your choice. Do not despair. I will help you."

"How, Apollo?"

"You will find the courage to do so."

Paris cried then. He cried because of his parents- their promise that they would love him forever seemed like lies to him now, and he cried for Helen. He cried because he vowed to protect her, and now…

He would have to choose between his country or love.

It wasn't an easy task. But he needed all the strength he could get, for the single combat between him and Menelaus was scheduled to be tomorrow morning.

"Be brave, Prince of Troy. Find yourself, and you will help Troy. Remember, I am always right by your side if you need me."

"Yes, Apollo." He said between sobs.

And I flew away, back to Olympus. I was anticipating tomorrow. It would be very amusing.