Chapter Text
Patroclus and Achilles did not argue very frequently. In life, Achilles was always caught off-guard by his temper. It was a beast onto itself, unpredictable and vicious, and he would only come to realize it had taken him after it was done. However rare it was though, Patroclus would give as good as he got, standing his ground against even the best of the Greeks. In death, both of them had softened, and well, there was very little to be truly angry about in Elysium.
And yet.
The conversation had started with an innocent question.
“How goes your young ward’s progress?” Patroclus asked as Achilles was lying peacefully in his lap.
“Well,” Achilles answered, closing his eyes to the feeling of Patroclus’ gentle hand through his hair. “He’s made it past his father quite a few times now.”
Patroclus hummed. “And what if there were a way that he could make it past his father a few more times?”
Achilles tilted his head to give Patroclus a look. “No, Pat.”
“I’ve not asked yet,” Patroclus pointed out.
“I know what you would ask though.” Achilles nudged at Patroclus’ leg with his head.
“Then you know why I would ask it,” Patroclus persisted. “It’s the least we can do for the stranger.”
This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation. Patroclus began to feel an affinity for Antos from the moment Achilles showed him the small thing. Zagreus had told them how he was able to ask for the aid of his other friends in battle through Chthonic Companions that they had gifted him, and Patroclus was certain that this toy was one of the same.
“I wouldn’t have you risk your life again, my love,” Achilles repeated the argument he had given before.
“When our lives were precarious still, we risked them for a cause that was not our own,” Patroclus argued. “Why should we not fight now for that which we truly believe? After all, what’s the worst that could happen?” Patroclus’ voice had a forced listlessness to it, highlighting all the more the attempt to draw tension away. “Death?”
Judging by the way the colour drained from Achilles’ face, it was still too soon for that joke. Achilles sat up, drawing his shoulders back as though preparing for a true fight.
“I would not force you into battle again.”
“You’re not forcing me into battle,” Patroclus insisted. “It is something that I would do by choice.”
“And what if I could not bear it?” Achilles countered, his voice sharper than it had been in a long time.
“Come now, my love, they used to call you ‘lion-hearted’,” Patroclus’ tone remained light. “Surely you are brave enough to bear such a thing, as you have done before. We will be fighting side by side, on our own terms.”
“Zagreus isn’t fighting mortals, as we did when we were alive.” Achilles argued, his voice rising despite his best efforts. “He’s fighting the Furies, monsters, Lord Hades himself. Even a lion cannot lead a kitten into battle.”
Achilles regretted the words before he even finished speaking them.
“What was that?”
“What I meant—” Achilles tried to explain.
“No, I don’t want to hear what you meant,” Patroclus interrupted, standing. Achilles stood as well. “I want you to repeat what you said.”
Achilles knew better than to do so. Instead, he swallowed any words he had left, and tilted his head down to look up at Patroclus dolefully.
“…Always the stubbornness, well, fine, have it your way!” Patroclus muttered, turning his head so that he faced away from Achilles completely. “Even as a kitten, I think I’d have more sense than you.”
“Pat,” Achilles sighed.
They were interrupted by the sound of the far doors opening and Zagreus’ enthusiasm. The prince bounded towards them, clearly overjoyed to see them both, as he always was, and Achilles’ was happier to see him than usual: some of the tightness that Patroclus held in his shoulders loosened as the lad approached.
“Hello, sirs!” Zagreus greeted them warmly.
“Stranger.”
Achilles was relieved to hear some of the strain had fallen away from Patroclus’ voice as well. He moved to try for Patroclus’ hand just as he felt that familiar pull in his chest. Patroclus caught him cursing the timing from the corner of his eye, and softened further. He never did like parting during an argument, even before Troy.
“Go,” Patroclus said, his voice forced neutral. “We will talk when you return.”
“Alright, Pat,” Achilles nodded reluctantly, and squeezed his arm, unsure of whether a kiss would be accepted.
Zagreus looked back and forth between them, his expression growing more anxious with each turn. He could sense the tension, and it was causing him distress.
“It’s alright, lad.” Achilles tried to assure him. “You’ll keep Patroclus company for awhile for me, won’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” Zagreus nodded so vigorously, several leaves fell from his laurels. He took a few steps towards Patroclus to indicate he would follow instruction.
“Certainly, because you enjoy my company, and not only because your teacher asks it,” Patroclus noted with amusement.
Zagreus looked mortified. “Of course, sir!” he said right away. “You know I enjoy visiting, whether Achilles is here or not! That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy seeing you here either, Achilles, sir—”
“Relax, lad,” Achilles cut in with a small smile. “He’s not being serious.”
That Patroclus felt well enough to joke made Achilles feel better as well. “I’ll take my leave for now, then.”
With a tap of his spear, he summoned the red sigil that pulled him back into the House.
---
Some time passed. Zagreus returned to the House not long after Achilles, muttering something about hating tiny vermin. After stopping by for a brief greeting, and assuring Achilles that Patroclus was alright even though Achilles hadn’t asked (Zagreus would always do so if he came across Patroclus’ glade, whether Achilles asked or not), he departed yet again.
Achilles knew right away that something was going on upon the Prince’s next return.
Zagreus returned from his last run and went directly to his father’s desk to ask to speak with him in the garden. There was an odd urgency to his voice, one that Achilles meant to ask him about when the lad came to visit him at his station, as he always did.
Except that Zagreus did not.
Zagreus gave him a quick glance on his way back from his mother’s garden, one filled with concern, before running towards his room again, likely to start another run.
Nor could Achilles really make anything of Zagreus’ conversation with Lord Hades. He heard Hades burst into a bout of loud, raucous laughter, which was in itself rare, but could not hear any of what they said.
Achilles didn’t think much of it, until he began to feel unusually restless. He had been standing at his post for a long time—longer than usual. While it was impossible to tell the time in the House of Hades, the bell that signaled the beginning of his break seemed long overdue.
Achilles shifted his weight between his feet. Surely this was just a symptom of his anxiety, of his great desire to speak with Patroclus again so that he could apologize and make things right. Extra time meant that Achilles was able to reconsider their conversation—he knew now he had apologizing to do.
Zagreus returned yet again—it was strange for the lad to lap him—and once again, ran directly to his father’s desk. They left for the garden again, for longer this time, and when they returned, they both came towards Achilles’ post.
“Master Hades. Prince,” Achilles bowed low and raised a hand to his chest.
“Shade.” Hades boomed.
“He has a name,” Zagreus pointed out with a frown.
“Achilles.” Hades rolled his eyes. “There has been a complication.”
“A…a what, my lord?” Achilles blinked at him. Perhaps it was a breach in security? But then, why would Zagreus have avoided him instead of coming to him immediately? Achilles felt his heart rise to his throat, knowing there could be only one other thing.
“What has happened?” Achilles asked, much more sharply.
Hades bristled at the tone, but excused it, only exasperating Achilles’ fears.
“It appears that the shade in Elysium is…” Hades paused here, and looked down towards Zagreus, as though he weren’t certain how to continue.
“Err…I think it’d be best if you just came to see, sir,” Zagreus filled in, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “I think he’s fine!” He added hastily.
“I suppose you are overdue for your break,” Hades sighed. “Charon will bring you both.”
“Don’t be angry,” Zagreus added.
Achilles pursed his lips, unable to make any promises.
Zagreus led Achilles through his own bedroom to their old training grounds. Skelly greeted them brightly as they ran past towards the window that Zagreus used to escape. Zagreus threw him a wave on his way past, called out that he didn’t have time to chat this time.
They landed on the other side, touching down gracefully, fist first.
Charon was already waiting for them at the dock. He gestured that they should board his boat. Achilles hesitated. This was the first time he had stepped onto the boatman’s vessel since his death. Zagreus turned, sensing that Achilles had stopped.
“It’s actually a nice ride, when you’re not preoccupied with the idea of dying,” Zagreus offered. He stepped onto the boat and extended a hand to help Achilles onto it.
Achilles shook his fear from himself (for what is it, but for the weak?) and took the lad’s hand, stepping firmly onto the boat, and finding it simply that—just a boat. He sighed with relief.
They sat quietly together as Charon navigated them through Tartarus, just out of reach from the wretches grasping at them desperately from the shore. Temperatures began to rise as they neared Asphodel and the air became thick with the heat as they drifted up the River Phlegethon. Achilles heard what sounded what must have been Orpheus’ lyre from a distance, accompanied by two voices instead of one.
“We must be close to Eurydice’s!” Zagreus stood to get a better look. Charon groaned, but did nothing further to stop him. “I hope you’ll get to meet her one day.”
“Me too, lad,” Achilles answered absently. His heart was preoccupied with what it was that he was to see in Elysium—that which neither Zagreus nor Hades could put into words. Zagreus must have felt something of this. He sat down again and placed a hand on Achilles’ knee in reassurance.
“He’s fine, I think,” Zagreus said with a lopsided smile. “It’ll be okay.”
“I’d feel better if you told me what was going on,” Achilles said with a frown.
“I…don’t think you’d believe me if I told you,” Zagreus stumbled over his words. “It’s best you see for yourself. Look, we’re almost there!”
Charon docked his boat beside one of the bridges and gestured for them to disembark. Achilles bowed slightly to the boatman to thank him for the trip, before running across the bridge, only to find Patroclus usual spot empty. His heart rose into his throat as his worst fears were confirmed.
Zagreus followed close behind him and once again placed a hand on his arm, likely as he had seen Patroclus do in the past to calm him.
“Don’t be angry,” Zagreus pleaded again.
“Show me where Patroclus is, and I will have no reason to be angry, lad.” Achilles could hear the edge of grit in his voice despite his efforts to keep it even. He couldn’t remember the last time he lost his temper with Zagreus. Feeling his ire rising only increased his guilt: when he had last spoken with Patroclus, he had let anger take him then as well.
Zagreus didn’t acknowledge his tone, and simply nodded, eager as always to obey. He walked forward to the spot where Patroclus normally stood, walked past it towards a cluster of bushes along the edge of the Lethe. He knelt down and extended a hand forward.
“Pspspspspsps,” Zagreus whispered.
“Zagreus,” Achilles growled, still quickly losing patience. “What are you—”
The bush rustled and Achilles fell silent.
Zagreus repeated the sound, and a brown long-haired cat poked his head out from under the bush. A crown of blue laurels was tucked neatly behind his ears, and it matched the small blue scarf that was pinned around his neck. He looked left and right, as though checking for danger, before settling his large brown eyes on the two of them.
“What—”
“Don’t!” Zagreus whispered, holding up an arm to keep Achilles from stepping forward. “He’s skittish.”
“Zagreus—”
Achilles was interrupted by a small raow, lilting upwards as though in question. The cat was looking at him, blinking slowly.
Zagreus gasped as the cat sauntered towards straight past him, pausing only to mew up at Achilles again before winding himself between Achilles’ calves.
“He’s usually shy,” Zagreus stood to sprint next to them and knelt to extend a hand again. The cat sniffed at it with mild interest but went back to giving Achilles his full attention.
Achilles liked animals, but wasn’t necessarily very good with them, unlike Patroclus. It was hard though not to be charmed by such an affectionate creature, particularly since deep in his heart, Achilles was still fearing the worst, still had not seen Patroclus with his own eyes since he arrived in the glade.
Achilles knelt to pet the long length of the cat’s back, and the cat purred and began to climb onto his thigh. Achilles huffed a short laugh and fell to the ground to accommodate. Something about this cat calmed his soul, much like Patroclus could. The cat twisted his body and settled onto Achilles’ lap, tummy up. Achilles once again obliged and began to scratch carefully. The cat mewed, and seemed pleased with this.
“Am I to believe that this cat will lead us to Patroclus then?” Achilles asked, leaning downwards so that the cat could bat at his hair.
“Ah. Not exactly,” Zagreus stuttered.
Achilles looked up and waited.
“I think the cat is Patroclus.”
“What.”
Achilles froze in place and looked up to gawk at Zagreus. In his lap, the cat began to squirm, and reached upward to nudge at Achilles’ hand with his head.
“Oh. Sorry.” Achilles blinked absurdly down at the cat and began to pet again. The cat settled and closed his eyes. “Surely there must be some mistake, lad. How could this have happened?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” Zagreus shook his head. “I’m still working on that part. All I know so far is that a few runs ago, I came to the glade and Patroclus was gone. This cat was sitting in his place.”
In Achilles’ lap, the cat began to purr, and melted even further into his arms.
“But…how could you possibly know that this is Patroclus?” Achilles asked, tilting his head to observe the cat more closely. The cat’s colouring was certainly similar to Patroclus’. There was also a sense of calmness to the creature that mimicked his beloved as well. But the only facts Zagreus had to go on were that Patroclus’ disappearance from the glade lined up with the cat’s appearance, and that didn’t seem like enough proof at all.
Zagreus pointed to the blue laurels and the cat flicked his ear as the finger came too close.
Achilles was still skeptical. “All of the exalted heroes in Elysium have laurels.”
“An exalted cat?” Zagreus asked, his eyes wide and incredulous.
“You don’t know his story.” Achilles snuggled the cat closer to his chest, offended on the creature’s behalf. The cat allowed himself to be lifted, seemed entirely nonplussed by it.
“But you’ve heard stories of how my family is able to transform mortals into...well…whatever it is they want?” Zagreus persisted. “Isn’t that the more likely explanation, rather than a heroic cat?”
Achilles decided not to point out the obvious: that both explanations were ridiculous.
“You think Olympus is to blame?” He asked instead.
Achilles sifted through the members of pantheon, thinking hard about who might have a grudge against them still. Who could it have been? Transformation wasn’t really Ares’ style, nor was it Apollo’s.
“…I’m not actually sure,” Zagreus confessed. “I’ve been asking around though! I’ll continue to do so.”
Achilles frowned and turned his attention back to the cat, who was staring up and him, eyes hooded and serene, much like Patroclus would.
“Could this truly be…?” Achilles asked hesitantly.
“Catroclus!” Zagreus supplied with too much enthusiasm before the cat could answer.
Achilles gave him a serious look. “Lad.”
“Sorry,” Zagreus apologized, reaching forward to scratch the cat behind one of his ears. The cat mewed but didn’t try to move out of the way. It was just as well. Achilles would likely have pulled the cat from Zagreus’ reach if Zagreus’ touch had upset him. As much as Achilles loved and trusted Zagreus, Achilles felt instantly protective of this small creature.
“See? He’s not as skittish as you first believed.”
“He wasn’t when I first found him either. Not until I dropped him trying to bring him with me back to the House, at least,” Zagreus confessed.
“You what.” Achilles flinched. The cat stopped purring; opening his eyes, he began to bat gently at Achilles’ forearm. Achilles turned his attention downwards, sensing the call for attention and the cat meowed at him calmly. Achilles felt the tension he hadn’t realized he was holding seep away from his body. While still unconvinced, Achilles couldn’t deny that it was exactly what Patroclus would have done in in the same place.
“See? He’s fine,” Zagreus breathed a relieved sigh. “Nine lives and all.”
Achilles remembered then that Zagreus hadn’t even known about birds just a short while ago. “How do you know so much about cats, lad?”
“Oh, they’re all over the Temple of Styx,” Zagreus explained. “Not even father is sure how they get there. They don’t usually bother with me, but they help with the vermin, when they feel like it. Cerberus doesn’t seem to mind them much. Chases them around sometimes for fun.”
Achilles wondered whether Cerberus let them through intentionally, so that he would have someone to play with.
“I’ve never seen one in Elysium before though,” Zagreus continued, reaching to scratch the cat again.
“You must be special, then.” Achilles’ voice sounds strange to his own ears—there was a timbre to it that he had never used before, and it seemed to please the cat.
“He certainly is, isn’t he?” Zagreus cooed. “I’ll continue to investigate. I’m sure that father won’t mind if I consider this run, despite having received help.”
“Alright,” Achilles nodded. “I suppose I’ll…”
What was Achilles going to do?
“I’m sure that Catroclus would like the company!” Zagreus said brightly, already on his way to the exit.
“We are not calling him that,” Achilles protested. “We don’t even know yet if this is Patroclus.”
“That’s why ‘Catroclus’ is perfect!” Zagreus called. “See you back at the House!”
Achilles sighed and turned his attention back to the cat. The cat blinked slowly up at him.
“Comfortable, are you?” Achilles asked, realizing only afterwards how absurd it was to be talking to a cat.
The cat meowed at him in reply and seemed to be saying, yes, he was, thank you very much for asking. Achilles laughed.
They sat quietly together for some time, as Achilles would often with Patroclus, just enjoying each other’s company. As was often the case when Achilles was with Patroclus as well, Achilles was the first to grow restless.
“I’m enjoying this, Cat,” Achilles murmured, not really certain whether he meant for it to be short for “Catroclus” or not (probably not). “But there’s someone I need to find.”
Cat opened his eyes and blinked up at Achilles. He turned in Achilles’ grasp, and leaped off his lap onto the grass, standing and looking at Achilles expectantly. He meowed.
“You mean to say goodbye here?” Achilles asked as he stood, uncertain about Cat’s meaning.
The cat twined himself between Achilles’ legs again, so much so that it was hard for Achilles to move.
“You mean to come with me?” Achilles tried instead.
The cat darted towards the exit and sat, looking at Achilles expectantly.
“No, Cat,” Achilles shook his head, winced at how his tone so closely resembled when he had last spoken to Patroclus. “You’ll be safer here.”
Without warning, Cat pounced onto Achilles’ cloak, and used it to scale his back.
“Blood and darkness…Cat! Stop this!” Achilles reached back blindly to try to find him, but Cat dashed out of his grasp by walking deftly across Achilles’ shoulders.
“Oh, fuck!” Achilles lost balance and tumbled to the floor without any injury except to his pride. The cat jumped and landed far more gracefully, sitting and licking at a paw to celebrate his victory.
Achilles huffed, smiling despite himself. “Oh, you think you’re so smart, do you?”
The cat looked at him and meowed as though to say, yes, he did. Achilles was about to grab at him playfully again, when he felt that familiar pull in his chest, the one indicating that his break was over. But he couldn’t just leave the cat, regardless of whether the cat was Patroclus or not. The other residents of Elysium were a violent lot. They likely wouldn’t be interested in attacking a cat, but Achilles had little time for logic such as this. Achilles was able to openly admit to himself that he worried for the cat’s safety, but not that he was worried that the cat would have wandered off by himself, and away from Achilles forever. Something about that idea horrified him, although he wasn’t quite able to explain why.
The cat meowed at him, and seemed to understand that Achilles had to leave. Achilles frowned down at him.
“Stay.”
The cat blinked at him with half-lidded eyes and meowed again.
“Please.”
The cat rolled onto his side. He seemed amused, like he was attempting to demonstrate that he would be good. Achilles had seen this act enough times with Patroclus to remain skeptical.
Achilles considered wrapping the cat up in his cloak and bringing him to the House. As he unpinned his cloak though, the cat must have figured out his plan, as he dashed under a bush.
“Damn it!” Achilles swore, dropping to all fours. “Get back here!”
He heard a softer “meow”, one that reminded Achilles of Patroclus when he was intentionally being difficult, likely for his own entertainment.
“Cat,” Achilles tried again. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”
He was met with silence—a sullen silence, if Achilles were to guess. He had somehow offended Cat.
There was eventually some elongated murmuring. The cat was trying to explain something to Achilles that was beyond him.
“I don’t understand,” Achilles confessed, reaching a hand into the bush blindly. “But you do, surely? That I am worried for your safety?”
The cat reached forward and tapped at Achilles’ hand with his paw, without his claws. It seemed to be conciliatory, but all the same, he did not emerge from the bush.
Achilles huffed. Perhaps this cat was Patroclus. He sure was stubborn enough to be.
“Fine then,” Achilles relented. “I will be back as soon as I can. Please stay safe until then.”
There was a shorter “meow” that sounded like a rebuff.
Achilles teleported away, doubly troubled by Patroclus’ absence, and for Cat’s safety.
---
When Achilles returned to the House, Hades summoned him to his desk.
“I assume you found the cat, as…Zagreus described?” Hades asked, pausing for a moment to process his son’s name, as Persephone requested.
“Yes, Master Hades.” Achilles kept his eyes fixed to the floor. “Is he…truly…” Achilles couldn’t finish his question.
“It is not certain.” Hades crossed his arms. “As far as I can tell, the cat is a shade, and also belongs in Elysium. And I’ve authorized no cats in Elysium.”
“Ah.” Achilles wasn’t quite certain how to continue. There was one obvious conclusion that Hades seemed to be pointing to here, but Achilles dared not speak it out loud, wasn’t sure he completely believed it still.
“Our pact promised you Patroclus’ safety,” Hades boomed. “I intend on honouring it. We will continue to investigate the situation. You may do as you wish during your breaks until we do.”
“Thank you, Master Hades.” Achilles bowed low. He returned to his post, his mind outpacing even that which would have been his quick-beating heart.
Zagreus must already have returned to the house before Achilles, as it seemed as though quite some time passed before he saw the prince again, and Achilles was left alone with his thoughts.
When Zagreus did return, he reported that none of the Olympians he had encountered seemed to know anything about a cat in Elysium, but insisted that he would keep trying to ask. He was happy to report though that Catroclus seemed to be in good spirits.
“Please don’t call him that, lad,” Achilles sighed, raising a hand to his temple.
“I think he likes it!” Zagreus protested, already on his way to the lounge.
Achilles teleported to the glade immediately on his next break, anxious to see whether Patroclus had returned, or, failing that, whether Cat was truly still there. He sprinted up the path, and nearly made it past the huge statue before he was attacked by a fuzzy brown blur that jumped down at him from the statue’s arm. Even Achilles’ lightning-fast reflexes only caught sight of his assailant just a second too late.
“RAWR!”
“OH FUCK!”
Achilles grasped at his head and at whatever it was that had just landed directly on him, only to find that it was gone—his laurels were gone as well. He nearly lost his balance as something dashed between his legs, and by the time he looked up again, the quick brown ball had vanished.
“Cat!” Achilles called out, exasperated, knowing it could have been no one else. The cat was sitting just a few feet away in front of the bridge, his legs tucked under like a loaf of bread, Achilles’ laurels still in his mouth, looking quite pleased with himself.
“You!” Achilles accused, stalking towards the cat with mock sternness.
Cat’s eyes widened until they were impossibly large and sorrowful.
“No.” Achilles shook his head. “I’m not falling for that.”
Cat trotted forward and dropped the laurels at Achilles feet. He mewed as though in apology.
“You are not actually sorry!”
Cat mewed again, arching to press the side of his body to Achilles’ leg.
“I am not petting you for this behaviour!” Achilles insisted, trying his hardest not to laugh. “Only good cats get pets.”
The cat yowled as though in physical and emotional pain and fell over onto his side.
“Fine, you little brat,” Achilles sighed, rolling his eyes, and dropping to his knees to pet along the cat’s flank. “Who spoiled you so?”
Cat raised his head to shoot him a smug look that likely said, “You did”, and settled back flat onto the grass.
Achilles snorted. “I suppose I have only myself to blame, you’re right.”
Cat stood and walked in a brief circle, indicating that Achilles should follow, then trotted over the bridge to where Patroclus would usually sit.
Instead of Patroclus, a small basket of figs was waiting for Achilles, along with a few other gifts that Achilles surmised must have been for Cat. Cat nudged the figs in Achilles’ direction.
“Had visitors, did you?” Achilles asked. He sat and reached for a fig. Achilles knew that Patroclus had friends who would sometimes visit the glade. Just as often, Patroclus would visit them in their respective corners of Elysium. Achilles wondered whether these gifts were brought to the glade by these friends, who were instead looking for Patroclus, or whether they had been brought back from other chambers. Did Cat leave while Achilles was away?
The cat meowed at him in acknowledgement. He stepped into a second basket that was lined with a small blanket, and curled into it. Achilles noticed with mild amusement that the basket was easily within his reach, and knew that wasn’t a coincidence. It would seem as though Cat had prepared for his arrival, and had already picked out what he wanted to do together. He obliged, reaching to stroke the cat’s back with one hand, while grabbing another fig with the other.
“These can’t possibly be for you though?”
The cat raised his head and made a face in disgust. Achilles laughed. “I suppose that’s a no. Were they for someone else then?”
The cat mewed lowered his head to curl into a ball.
“I’m looking for someone, you see,” Achilles explained. “Someone who lives in this glade.”
Cat lifted his head and blinked at Achilles, as though encouraging him to continue.
“Have you seen him? You seem to understand me. Perhaps you can be my eyes when I am away?”
The cat murmured something at him, trying to explain something that Achilles could not comprehend.
“Maybe we could work out a language?” Achilles tried. “One mew for yes? Two for no?”
The cat mewed again.
“…was that a yes?” Achilles asked hesitantly.
“Meow.”
“Alright,” Achilles nodded. “Have you seen the man who is usually in this glade? Darker than me and a bit shorter? Less built?”
The cat made an offended sound at that.
“…yes?” Achilles asked, more insistently.
There was no answer. The cat had curled into himself again. Achilles sighed.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you again to look for him.”
The cat looked up at him again, and stood, trotting over to stand beside him.
“No, I can’t take you with me, Cat,” Achilles shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
The cat meowed again. He walked a short distance to stand in front of something that Achilles had not noticed before—an ethereal spear, left by one of the exalted in defeat.
Achilles blinked. “Did…did Zagreus do this?”
The cat meowed twice, once again looking offended.
“You did?” Achilles asked in surprise.
“Meow.” The cat sounded quite pleased with himself. He walked over to a translucent shield, raised a leg to paw at it.
“This one too?” Achilles was impressed.
The cat mewed at him, moving to sit beside the exit door.
Achilles once again paused to consider the absurdity of this situation. He could not deny though that his heart was still hurting because of his beloved’s absence, could not deny that the cat did help to soothe him. Besides, the cat was a shade, and did belong in Elysium. No death would be permanent. Achilles huffed a short laugh to himself.
“Well? Come on then.”
Cat perked up at the invitation, and scrambled to climb onto Achilles’ shoulders with ease.
“Let’s kill some heroes,” Achilles grinned.