Author's PenName: Dysis Nyx

Author's Note: Okay, so enjoy this chapter and remember, please keep reading and reviewing. I really hope you enjoy it. Thanks for still reading and actually liking my fanfic…hopefully.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of "Troy". I wish I did….hehehe, Achilles and Patroclus are major yumyums.

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Looking down with vehemence at the sniveling Eudorus, Achilles was barely holding in his greatest fears. Something inside him was screaming for Patroclus and Achilles' thoughts turned traitorous. No longer could he look at Eudorus and his fearful sympathy. The man was only sympathetic and sorry, because he knew he would not like what Achilles would do to him. Looking away Achilles growled in fear, "Where is Patroclus? Where is my cousin? Patroclus! Patroclus!"

Eudorus had said some something in reply, but Achilles was to busy looking at all the Myrmidon faces avoiding his eyes. They all knew something. They all were trying to hide the truth from him. Finally losing it Achilles hit Eudorus with so much force the man was knocked to the sand. Looking down at him, Achilles heaved as Eudorus whimpered, "Dead, my lord. Hector slit his throat."

Achilles stumbled back a few paces.

Dead.

His Patroclus was dead. The world began to cave in at the notion. His mother had warned him. She had told him, Patroclus would die had he gone to Troy. For a split second Achilles did nothing as the notion sank in, but when it did. Bang!

He was like a lightning bolt shooting across to kill whoever was closest. Eudorus! It was Eudorus who had not stopped Patroclus. He had not known the difference between Achilles and Patroclus. It was him, who did nothing. He brought Achilles the news. Achilles foot stepped on Eudorus' throat with so much pressure Achilles waited for the man's eyes to pop out of his sockets and for his foot to crash through the man's neck to disengage his head from the man's shoulder.

Nothing happened he watched in an evil, angry revel as Eudorus struggled helpless under the foot. Then a small feminine hand pleaded to help save him. Achilles slapped it away.

He looked only to see Briseis near him.

Her!

The bitch who had seduced him with her large fighting eyes and her sweet lips, it was her fault. Achilles reached for her throat and began to feel the life fading out of her as she struggled under his hand. Briseis, Eudorus, everyone, it was everyone else's fault Patroclus was dead.

Then it hit him. No, it was his fault. He had not protected Patroclus as he had vowed. It was Achilles, himself, who had neglected Patroclus for Briseis. It was Achilles who had trained Patroclus to move exactly like him. Patroclus was dead and he had killed him. Letting go of Briseis and walking over a heavy breathing Eudorus, Achilles stammered to the ocean. The gods had smited him. They were laughing at him now. The immortals were punishing him and more especially Ares, the war god, was testing how strong he was.

Funny thing was though, Achilles cared not for life anymore. He stood in the water with it crashing around his waist and his clothes soaking in the water, completely bereft of all life. His body was here, but his soul was screaming for death.

Why had he been so stupid? He had seen it in Patroclus' eyes. He had seen the boredom move to a feeling of uselessness, and then on to a feeling of betrayal, then the broken heart and finally the last thing that he saw in his beloved Patroclus' eyes…the hollow glow of hopelessness. By the time, he had last talked to Patroclus and last seen him; the boy was dead in his heart. Hector may have killed the boy's body, but it was he, Achilles, who had killed Patroclus inside.

How blind could one man be? Achilles knew not what he felt for Briseis, was it love or lust, he knew not. Love was such a motivating emotion. Men fought to find and keep love, but what he felt for Patroclus was beyond love. True love looked like a mere fancy in comparison to his feelings for the boy.

Achilles felt the strange sensation of water rolling down his cheeks as he stood in the middle of the waterside. He looked out at the endless ocean with a sense of despair. The sensation only continued stronger. Finally, raising a finger to touch his cheeks, Achilles realized he was crying.

So, this is what grief feels like?, Achilles thought as he looked at his hand with the gleaming, mocking tears. A feeling all too new to Achilles, grief, sorrow, loss, all of them were new and unfamiliar. So, with new emotions comes new ways to deal with them.

An hour must have passed with him just standing there before a small voice said from behind him, "Achilles? Are you going to come back on the shore?"

The small, but strong voice of Briseis now angered him beyond any possible understanding. That same voice this morning seduced him, but not it made his stomach crawl. He tried to bite down the bile climbing in his throat as he snarled calmly, "I will come out when I see fit."

Then another voice said, "Achilles, I do not have the words that I can say to ease the pain of losing your cousin, but I can tell you he fought well and died proud."

Like an angry lion suddenly being attacked Achilles turned in the water to face Odysseus and snarled without hesitation, "Fought well? Died proud? Is that what matters in our lives as men, Odysseus? Men like you and me were born to be fighters; men like Patroclus were born to be great men without all the blood and flesh on their hands. They are the only true and pure beings in this world. They are the real pride of the gods."

Taking a step closer to Achilles, Odysseus replied softly, "It is not the object of war to annihilate those who have given provocation for it, but to cause them to mend their ways; not to ruin the innocent and guilty alike, but to save both. Can you not see this, Achilles?"

Achilles gave Odysseus a deadly stare, "What is it you are leading to say, Odysseus?"

"All that there is too say, Achilles. Whom the gods love, dies young."

Achilles trudged out of the water, to where he stood only inches away from Odysseus. His voice was a calm roar as he said, "The gods allowed Patroclus to die as a punishment for me. They test me and my strength by taking the one remaining piece of humanity I had in this world." giving an icy stare to Briseis he said, "He was the only good left in this world."

Placing a comforting hand on Achilles' shoulder Odysseus said, "Now I have met the boy. I am sure he was not completely innocent."

Shrugging off the hand, Achilles walked past Odysseus to go back to the shore as he muttered, "You did not know Patroclus…"

Finding Eudorus, Achilles said void of all emotion, "Where is the body of my cousin?"

The same fear struck in Eudorus' eyes as he stammered, "S-Still on the battlefield, my lord. The Trojans collect their dead first, then we shall do the same."

Grabbing the collar of Eudorus' armor Achilles pulled the man closer as he snarled, "You left my cousin's body to lie with the other corpses?!"

Eudorus could only nod at this point. Achilles knew the man thought he was going to kill him, but he instead, he tossed him to the ground and stalked off. There was nowhere else Achilles wanted to go right now more than he did the battlefields. Grabbing the nearest horse he swung himself onto it without even breaking his stride. There was no pause even when he got onto the horse. His mind was a hazy storm at the moment, but his heart knew exactly where Patroclus was.

Still staring at the retreating figure of Achilles, Eudorus was still very lost on how to handle this. He had never seen Achilles so violent and so short-tempered with anyone. He looked next to him and saw Briseis walking up. She seemed very confused as well.

Briseis stopped right next to the man called Eudorus and asked, "He takes his cousin's death personally. How close were they?"

Eudorus thought for the right words for a second before answering, "Patroclus was Achilles' first and only novice. He refused to teach anyone his secrets of fighting and battle the way he did with Patroclus. That boy had all the training to make the perfect soldier, but all of us knew he would never see battle."

Briseis nodded, "They were exceptionally close then? I mean, Achilles speaks very highly of fighting and his abilities. Why would he not want to show off Patroclus?"

Eudorus gave an honest laugh as he questioned right back, "Would a woman send a son or husband to war?"

With that Briseis watched as Eudorus walked off. She still could not understand why Achilles had looked at her with so much hate before. If he loved her, why was he acting like this?

Finally standing in the center of the bodies, Achilles stood but a few steps away from Patroclus' corpse. Laying there in the sand, dead…

A sense of poison streaming through his veins came upon him again as each step was taken. He had to get there, but he knew the minute he would see Patroclus' face he would lose it.

As he almost came into full sight of his face, a voice said behind Achilles, "I thought he was you."

Hector.

Achilles turned on the ball of his foot to stare like a hungry lion at Hector. Achilles could feel the burning hate raising in his heart and the bile creeping up his throat. No! Not today! Achilles would not kill him today. Tonight was for Patroclus, not Hector. So, without even trying to hide the hate and pain in his voice Achilles said, "Tonight I burn my cousin, tomorrow I stain the sand with your blood."

Without another word Hector left. Achilles did not even bother to watch him go. What was the point? The man had too much honor to strike Achilles in the back. Looking over his shoulder Achilles thought cynically, He even killed Patroclus across the throat and then put him out of his pain.

The time had come, Achilles had to face the body. As he stood over the dead corpse of what was once the most important person in his life, Achilles felt the world dying around him. He stared into the cold, dead, unfeeling eyes of a man who once was a shining ray of light in Achilles dark and bloody world. Now those same eyes were unfeeling and empty. Falling to his knees, Achilles touched the side of Patroclus' face.

Cold.

It couldn't be true. It couldn't! His Patroclus was not dead. That was impossible! Impossible…

That word was once a challenge to Achilles. With Patroclus alive he knew nothing could break him down, but now? Now?

Now life was pointless and endless. There was nothing in this cold dead world for Achilles to be human for. Now he was a cold killing machine. His heart was dying inside his chest and he was stone.

As the world darkened around him a voice said meekly, "Achilles?"

Slowly turning Achilles felt the hot breath of hope behind him. That voice was hope. He knew that voice like no other person did. He rose to his feet to stand face to face with the glowing figure of everything that embodied hope. His voice a mere whisper he breathed, "P-Patroclus?"

-to be continued-