Epilogue
Note: Like all things, nothing lasts forever. Well, there you have it, the epilogue. I feel proud of having compiled a Troy fic. In just fifteen chapters I have revisited my version of The Iliad, the classic story of love, grisly violence, honor, glory, immortality, sacred brotherhood and the true meaning of being a Trojan. (They weren't ever properly talked about) I hope that all of you who have reviewed have enjoyed my story. Thank you for all your encouraging reviews- they helped a lot and they are the reason I continued the story in the first place. It was a pleasure to write this. Although we all know the themes of the Iliad, I guess you really do not understand it until you write it yourself. So I have also learned a great deal. In all its unabridged splendor the Iliad remains a universal classic, and I think I have done it justice in my own words.
Oh yeah, and "love means never having to say you are sorry." From Love Story.
Paris, Son of Rome, one year later.
I am now a Son of Rome. That is what we named this land, and we are the first people to tread upon her earth. The journey that we made to get away from Troy was just one year ago. Yet the memories of that fateful day remain, and always will remain in my heart. For it is the story that we will tell to our children, no matter how painful or horrific.
In a short time we have made progress. A handful of other Trojans traveled with us that day. They are working to build a temple for our dear Lord Apollo, and a palace for our King, Hector, where he will reside with Astyanax and Andromache. Astyanax, now two years old, is now starting to speak his first words. It is a pleasure to watch him grow every day. Hector hasn't changed- he is still my brother, the same Tamer of Horses. I am certain that he will handle his job with finesse and grace.
Achilles' son was born to Briseis six months ago, whom she named Nikolas just as Achilles wished. She is a wonderful mother. I think if it weren't for our little Niko, I would never have come to accept Achilles as a wholesome man.
Aeneas, the first among us to spot Rome, is hailed as the founder of this land. He is now the father of twin sons- Romulus and Remus, whom he found abandoned on Rome's shore. A she-wolf had taken them in, and she had grown to love them as her own, but Aeneas couldn't stand seeing them there. He simply went over gently, pretending to be their father by taking them into his arms. The wolf, although saddened to watch them part from her, understood that they had found a human to raise them. She allowed Aeneas to take them in; and she didn't leave a scratch on him. Aeneas always had a way for wild animals; he always had wildness about him.
Today is the first day of May. The days are getting warmer, and we are all content. Oenone and I watched Briseis and Aeneas watching over not only their own children but Astyanax as well. He was in such a hurry to walk. There they were, laughing and playing with Astyanax. So happy.
And I was guilty of not joining them.
Would I ever be able to laugh again? After losing my daughter, after Oenone had blamed herself for Andronea's death. After killing Niko's father, and after losing my father. Although I now despised Helen, I knew that for ten years I had loved her fiercely. And I know it is madness, sickness from that ferocity that drove me to kill her that night. I wondered if the murders of my enemies were paid by the deaths of my loved ones. For the rest of my life, would I have to feel guilt, for it is my fault that Niko will have to grow up without a father? I was made to feel his pain.
Even in wartime, murder is a crime.
What is ironic is that I murdered Helen, but my daughter died instead. Oenone once said that she would rather die in her place. But I cannot afford to lose her. Never. Somehow, our daughter's passing has brought us closer together. I put an arm around her now, not out of cold, but a sudden feeling of longing, of emptiness…
"You should go over there," she suggested.
"But I want to stay here with you," I replied, holding her to my chest.
And for a few moments, I am mesmerized, overcome with love. Oenone buried her face in my tunic, and I lifted her face.
She was beautiful.
I see in her face the same face from twelve years ago. Age hasn't hidden her dark beauty. I see in her eyes love, for only me, and I know this is the reason why I fell in love with her all those years ago.
"I miss her," she said, rubbing the scars on my chest tenderly.
"So do I. I'm sorry."
Oenone doesn't accept my apology, so I said that I loved her. She smiled, and I knew that I was forgiven. For all things.
I look over to my cousins once more, and I hope that they have forgiven me. For being the curse of the family for this long. But now I feel different, refreshed. I was cursed in the name of fire, and fire was the only thing that could break the anathema.
No matter what, fire will always be a part of me. Oenone will always be there, to make sure the fire doesn't get out of control. My inner flame will burn for only her. Some say that the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. For me, fire was a symbol of death and new life, the many ironies of life.
There, up in the heavens, in the bright fireball of sun, Lord Apollo and Aphrodite are watching over me. At Apollo's side, Cassandra smiles radiantly, her shyness overcome by determination. I never hated Cassandra. And I never will. She is up there with Apollo now, and our Phoebus will protect her for all eternity. Apollo gives me a wink, and I begin a short prayer:
Have them accept me as a brother, cousin, husband and son. As Paris. Just Paris.
And now I hear Priam's voice, the great Priam, calling to me in the wind.
I always accepted you. You were always my son. Remember, you will always be the Prince of Troy…
Rome. Even though I am a Roman now, I will always be who I always was.
Apollo is gazing at me, and I hear him. You are a father as well. In that all-knowing smile, he explains everything. I wonder if Oenone knows.
At last, I see Achilles, nodding at the sight of his son. He has achieved immortality; his wishes have been fulfilled.
The Gods envy us. They envy us because we are mortal. We are more beautiful because we are doomed, because every moment might be our last. We will never be here again.
And yet we can still become immortal.
Here, looking over Rome's harbor, I hear voices of the dead. I know that I am not insane. But they are sending me messages so that I can find myself. Hopefully, one day I will forgive myself; find redemption. I am almost there. With a woman like Oenone by my side, I can do anything.
Helen died so that I could appreciate her more, so that I could see true beauty. But I know that finding myself and accepting who I am is a journey I must embark alone. I can be greater than I ever thought possible.
Oenone will one day find the strength to face the world again. With another child coming, she needs to be strong. And I? I will soon join my family in laughter. Let the Gods envy us humans. We will meet our short, glorious lives willingly, with each new sunrise. With the Gods to watch over us, and those who have left this world to watch down to us from the soaring heavens.
After all the ages of the world have passed, our names will remain. Let them say I loved Helen. Let them say I became immortal after my death, with people remembering me as the Lover. But I will spend my time on Earth with Oenone, forever.
Nothing lasts forever.
Note: Romulus and Remus were Aeneas' real sons. In my story, he adopts them, but in myth, they were his biological sons who were later found by a she-wolf and raised by it. Romulus triumphed over Remus and became ruler and founder of Rome. All historical misinterpretations are my mistake.
