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EDIT: Now with art by Rubynrut on Tumblr. The Feral Neo they drew give me life
This is karma, without a doubt. Agamemnon fully believes it.
Even when in death Achilles has to have the last laugh.
As the prophecy goes, they can not win without someone with the blood of Achilles, and his first thought immediately snapped to this is Achilles’ own way of taunting him . As far as he was aware, the demigod had not even been married and although he was secretive about his life in Skyros, Patroclus did let them know a thing or two, but never mentioned a baby. Then suddenly Menelaus revealed that he knew Achilles did in fact have a son, and then Odysseus offered to bring the boy here. Agamemnon had let out a relieved sigh and a mental reminder to sacrifice some animals to thank the gods.
The boy arrived a good fortnight later, along with Philoctetes and the moment he descended to the sand beach of the camp, the king of men had no doubt he was of the demigod’s blood.
Almost as tall as his father, red flaming hair instead of golden blond but still burned as bright, probably even more intense. His posture radiated the similar war-hungry inferno which was caged within the powerful body, ready to be released upon the enemies on the other side of the wall at any moment. The dead giveaway was however the eyes, emerald eyes with the hint of blue and turquoise like the color of the mighty Aegean sea in front of them. The boy confidently introduced himself as Neoptolemus, which was indeed a fitting name for the young man.
He greeted the boy with a warm and hospitable welcome, but it seemed that unlike his father, the young man was quiet and extremely hard to read. He spoke nothing for at least half of the welcome party and only focused on his plate, and when he did, he only spoke with, unsurprisingly, Odysseus. Yet after the banquet, when they were discussing tactics for future fights, as the Trojans were now staying still inside their god built walls, he would speak out as if he had been fighting with the Myrmidon army and the other generals for years, radiating every inch of confidence and certainty of the deceased godlike warrior.
Agamemnon respected wholeheartedly, but the young general’s inexperience was showing in his strategy and before this escalated further, the Mycenae king should do something about this.
“ Neoptolemus, I understand your thirst for battle and devotion, but running head first into the battlefield without previous experience is dangerous, even for a Olympianbred like you. The Trojans have battled for 10 years, they are no longer easily swayed by a simple show of power.”
“ With all do respect, King Agamemnon, you are not qualified to tell me how to command my troops, let alone teach a man of divine blood how to fight.” The new Myrmidon commander answered with a cold face.
He could hear Odysseus’ whistle, and Menelaus giggled into his hand.
Deep breath Agamemnon, deep breath. Don’t pull a second Briseis.
“ Godlike Neoptolemus, this is not of my intention to disregard your battle prowess or position as a commander of your own army. This is merely a suggestion.” He smiled forcefully.
“ Then I am not of the intention to take your advice. Are we done? I need to meet my army.” And he turned away and left the tent without Agamemnon’s approval.
The room was silent for a good while until Odysseus spoke, “ This gonna be interesting.”
“ No it’s not.” He retorted.
“ Yes it is.”
“ Shut up Menelaus.”
“ I'm not even saying anything.” Answered his brother innocently.
“ You’re laughing in your head. I can sense it.” He glared.
“ Agamemnon’s right. That kid will get us killed.” Thanks for the love of god was Diomedes here. “ But I like the attitude.” Or not.
“ We need to find a way to handle him. Or we’ll all end up dead. Do you have any idea, Nestor?”
The old man thought for a while, then he spoke, “ The young man is very strong of the body and the mind, yet his temper reminds me a lot of a younger Herakles who had to -
“ Nestor, just cut to the chase.” Either stop the man now or him and the other Greek generals would die of boredom instead of the Trojans’ blades.
“ We can handle him like a demigod teenager, who is equally stubborn and hot-headed.”
“ Yes, thank you for summing it up.”
The hard part was, none of them were qualified for this job. Agamemnon had just failed fantastically in front of every single general of the Greek Army, and he was the king of men, the chief commander, the king of powerful Mycenae. If he could not, who can? Looking around to find some sort of idea, he caught Odysseus saying something to Diomedes. That’s right. The boy seemed to be friendly enough with Odysseus. Not all hope is lost.
“ I need all of you to try and find a way to make Neoptolemus cooperate. You have till sunrise.” He glared at Odysseus and Menelaus specifically. “ Dismiss.”
The two looked at him in dread, only for the king of men offered them a smile of condolence and contentment then left the tent first.
The room started to thin out and soon there were only a handful of people remaining, namely Odysseus, Menelaus, Diomedes and Nestor.
“He said all of you , but I swear to Zeus he meant us.” The Ithacan King pointed toward himself, the Spartan and the Argive.
“ He seems to like you enough. How about you try it first?” Diomedes asked the man.
“ I have handled Achilles for 10 years already, can’t I have a break?” Odysseus complained. But it seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Defeated, he mumbled something intangibly and stepped out, heading toward the Myrmidon camp, the others trailing after.
Neoptolemus was anything but inefficient, he had already let soldiers run drills to his command and was now standing in front of them, observing his army. He soon noticed the other commanders heading toward where he stood.
“ What are you here for Odysseus, I don’t recall asking for you.”
“ Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud, you know me the longest here. Try to loosen up a bit.” Odysseus clasped his shoulder, appearing to be friendly. But the young general slightly pushed his hand away.
“ This is war. There is no time for friendship and fun, sharp tongued Odysseus. Whatever you want from me, say it now or you will soon regret.”
“ I just want to ask how my good friend is doing, after seeing his father’s legacy. Quite some work to do, right?”
Mentioning Achilles made the boys’ shoulders tensed up, his eyes slightly widened but he regained his composure in mere seconds.
“ I am doing very well, king Odysseus of Ithaca. And I am grateful to be the one to take on the mantle of commander of Myrmidon and the strongest of the Greek Army. Now if you excuse me, I have other things to do to live up to my father’s legacy rather than talking nonsense.” He started to walk away again.
For almost a week of traveling together, Odysseus had picked up on some Neo’s behaviors. He although looked like a full grown man in form, was still a teenager at heart and soul. He was full of sorrow and fear when leaving his mother behind and stepping on the ship. The godlike teen tried his best to avoid everyone else by looking at the sea all day long. Whenever he was confronted, he would act high and mighty only to find a way to escape the conversation as soon as possible.
The only reason he started talking to Odysseus was because the Ithacan King brought one of Achilles’ dogs with him and used it to strike nonchalant conversations. And yet the boy still spent more time looking at the pet rather than actually engaging in the talk. Unfortunately, the military had few to almost nothing to do with dogs. He had to find another way.
“ I am sure I can be of aid with that.” The Ithacan King followed the red haired man stubbornly. “ As you have already known, I am the smartest man in Greece.”
The young man stopped his track and he turned back to the Ithacan, his focus fully on the other man, “ I will listen to what you have to offer.”
“ He’s been doing well so far.” Standing further away from the other two, Nestor, Diomedes and Menelaus observed carefully as Neoptolemus listened intently to what the shorter man said.
“ Which is the sign that he will soon fuck up.” Diomedes suddenly commented.
“ What?” The other two turned to him puzzledly. And before they could question him further, they saw Odysseus walking back, his face indicated failure.
“ I thought he listened to you.” Menelaus said immediately when Odysseus reached them.
“ Until I told him that he should have help on the front line.” He raised his hands up in frustration, “ Are all teenagers like this?”
Wait . Telemachus would now be in his teenage phase, what if this was the thing awaiting Odysseus at home? He prayed to the gods to give Penelope’s strength and him too, because this is getting on his nerves.
“ I cannot speak for all but yes, more or less.” Nestor finally became useful. “ If you teach them well, they would be easier to deal with.”
“ You have survived your children’s teenage phase. This experience could be of use, like right now.” Odysseus realized.
“ I don’t think an old mortal man like me can advise an extraordinary Olympianbred like him. Beside, I think my sons are in need of me, so I’m just going to go-” Nestor started to shuffle away from his spot between Menelaus and Diomedes, clearly trying to run away.
“ Oh no. Don’t you dare, Nestor.” The Ithacan immediately held him by his armor, and dragged him toward the Myrmidon commander. “ I have suffered, so will you.”
Nestor accepted his fate and made his way toward Neoptolemus. Instead of staying in the same spot, they sat together under shades of a tree in the corner, facing the ground where the soldiers were running drills. They talked for a long time, although it was Nestor who did all of the talking and Neo was trying his best to open his eyes. After a good few minutes, even Menelaus started to yawn, so he left to check on his soldiers and the other two followed suit.
Only after 2 hours sharp did they return to check on the duo, and the scene did not disappoint. Neo had fallen asleep sitting whilst the king of Pylos had his eyes fully closed and his mouth moving nonstop. For some reason, he was now reliving the glory days of the famous ship Argo and the Argonauts.Deciding it would be better to relieve the boy of this suffering, they told Nestor to stop, whilst Menelaus shook the boy’s shoulders to wake him up. Only for the son of Achilles to startle and knee right into the Spartan king’s face, which broke his nose upon contact and toppled him into the sandy ground.Using the same momentum, he stood up immediately, daggers in hand, preparing for battle. The hiss of pain on the ground attracted his attention, and then did the red haired realize what he had done.
“ What are you sneaking up on me for!?” The young man screamed.
“ What did you hit me in the face for!?” The Spartan cried out in pain and anger, one hand holding his nose now full of blood and trying to sit up by bracing his other hand to the ground.
“ Whatever you all want me to do, I won’t do it! You four have been haunting my whole afternoon! Leave me alone!” The Myrmidon jumped over Menelaus, pushed over Odysseus and Diomedes and ran away to the sea.
“ Leave him.” Diomedes seemed to have read the Ithacan’s mind, who intended to chase after the teen. “ Check on Menelaus first.”
“ I am fine.” The Spartan king sat up fully and his eyes followed the young man, whose silhouette was fading from view. “ We failed miserably, didn’t we?”
“ We still have our secret weapon.” Odysseus punched the Argives’ forearm playfully. “ Go Diomedes! Go! Go!”
The Argive only huffed and crossed his arms, then walked away to his army. The man gave them his words, “ By sunrise he will be ready.”
Pyrrhus’ eyes trailed after every single small delicate carve on his father's and Patroclus’ grave. The chariot of Apollo was leaving the sky with its silken traces of orange and red hue. Below the cliff on which he was standing, the sea was roaring and bellowing with its waves crashing into the land. The teen wanted to scream out of his lungs against the waves once again, but his voice was long gone, just like his identity the moment he set foot on the Greek camp.
No longer the boy Pyrrhus of Skyros, but the warrior Neoptolemus, the strongest of Greek, the commander of the Myrmidon, the blood son of Achilles .
Ever since he was a child he had heard all the stories of how great and powerful his father was, and the moment Odysseus met him, the man had showered him with more stories of the godborn Achilles, how he conquered the battlefield like a lion among sheeps, how he was the unstoppable hurricane of war and blood. It was blessed to be the son of a demigod, true, but how he also detested the man, to choose the life of glory and the curse of early death that bestowed upon him rather than the life of family and contentment and the curse of longlive happy boredom. How can you love and hate the same person at the same time, with the same intensity? He does not know how, but he does it anyway.
Someone appeared next to him, without a sound, without a warning. He jumped back, his dagger ready again. The person, the man, who turned to him, if he recalled it correctly, was Diomedes, king of Argos, second strongest of the Greek Army, only next to his father. His stance loosened immediately against a familiar face and his dagger was sheathed back into the cover, yet he wanted to leave. Enough of people dragging him around and telling him what to do today.
The man looked at him with a face of no clear emotion or too much at once, but there was indeed sadness and regret in his eyes. Pyrrhus diverted his eyes into the ground, ready to escape the moment his man started talking, but he didn’t even utter a word.The Argive let him be and looked into the horizon instead, which Pyrrhus also followed and they stayed standing together in front of the grave as silence engulfed between them, saved for the song of the sea below. Pyrrhus was then the first to begin,
“ What do you want to say to me, do it now.”
“ Are you truly the son of Achilles?”
“ I am the son of god-born Achilles of Phthia and princess Deidamia of Skyros. How dare you question my bloodline?”
“ You can be of his blood and still not worthy of his legacy.” The man suddenly moved into a stance of combat. “ As the strongest of the Greeks, only after Achilles, I can not let the army fall just because an imprudent child wants to prove himself.”
Blinded white by shame and anger,he launched himself forward, trying to wrestle him down, but being smaller in posture proved disadvantageous against the king. He was lifted up and thrown to the ground like a ragged doll against the jaws of a hound dog. The teen jumped back again and again, only for him to be thrown away or smashed into the sand.
“ A commander without a clarity of mind will have all of his troops dead, is this the legacy Achilles wants? A weak commander who wastes the life of his men for nothing?” The man started degrading him, which made his blood boil even more intensely.
He could not defeat this man by physical prowess alone, he needed to try something else. With a more careful approach and a few test jabs and feints, he managed to close the proximity but there was no actual opening. There was no longer firing bloodlust in the seasoned warrior's eyes, only a permanent sadness and numbness. Is this what war has actually done to a person? He couldn’t dwell more on the thought as a fist came right at his jaw, knocking him down on the sand again.
“ The more time you spend drifting away, the more soldiers die. Would Achilles allow it to happen?”
“ I don’t care what my father wants.” He mumbled as his mouth full of blood. That is all I care about.
He was kicked right into the stomach and landed face first into the ground. As he coughed out blood and saliva, the Argive continued.
“ A weak general is a dead general, and an army without guidance is a dead army. You boast about yourself being the descendant of a heroic bloodline, yet you failed to defeat a mere mortal man. Is this truly the legacy of Pelides for the next generation?”
Pyrrhus remained still, while Diomedes marched near with the intention to kick him again. Only for the teen to sweep kick his legs out of surprise and then as Diomedes fell to the ground, the boy punched in the face and head-locked him tight, pushing his face into the sand.
“ I DON’T EVEN WANT TO BE HERE!” Pyrrhus finally screamed, almost sobbed. His grip tightened and so smaller was the Argives’ breathing pipe. He turned his face sideways to inhale some air, “ I DON’T EVEN WANT TO BE HIS SON!”
“ But you are, aren’t you?” The older man tried to speak through his breathing struggles. “ You can only make- do with what the gods- have given to you.”
The teen snapped out of his stirring thoughts and released Diomedes like being burned by hot coals. But he didn’t move away too far while watching in worry as the other man sat up and tried to regain his breathing.
“ I’m sorry.” The boy finally muttered. “ I have gone too far.”
“ It’s fine.” The Argive king’s coughs finally subsided after a few minutes, “ I don’t want to be my father’s son sometimes too.”
“ What happened to you?” The boy asked, the child-like innocence appeared on his face again.
“ It’s a long story.” Diomedes crossed his legs and patted on the place next to him, and the boy hesitantly but willingly sat next to him.
The silver light of Artemis finally dawned on the Greek camp which for 10 years was lying on the seashore of Ilium. One cliff that looked over to the vast sea of Poseidon, below which the waves had mellowed out and now sang the soft lullaby of beautiful sea nymphs, one could see a grave of two foregone intertwined souls and in front of it, another two souls, one old one new, sang together a sad song of blood war, lost and love, weaving into the song of the nymphs below in harmony.
The sun rose on the land of Ilium again and a new day of battle would soon begin, yet no sign of the Myrmidons, again. Agamemnon was pacing back and forth. Honestly he was both curious and worried since yesterday when he saw his brother Menelaus returning a broken nose, Nestor shaking his head, Odysseus being so nonchalant on the border of danger and a vague promise of Diomedes. The Argive troops were here but no sign of their commander. When he asked, their second-in-command Sthenelus just shrugged for Zeus’ sake! As his mind started to spiral on how to appease the new warrior, the ghost of Achilles himself returned on his chariot, which made Agamemnon’s soul almost jump out of his body.
“ Good morning commanders.” The voice was different. His eyes refocused on the newly arrived warrior. It was Neoptolemus donning his father’s armor and riding his chariot. His army followed behind in perfect discipline.
Phew.
The man spoke again, still the same confidence and utter certainty, yet with a hint of humility and understanding this time.
“ Commander in chief Agamemnon, I have considered your suggestion and I sympathize with your concern. Therefore I will not lead the assault first alone but rather with king Diomedes. We two will grind the Trojans to the ground and raise hell to the whole Ilium.”
As mentioned the Argive king appeared as he had been walking from behind Neoptolemus’ chariot, and climbed on his own, now was right next to the Myrmidon commander’s one. This new friendship puzzled most of the commanders and Agamemnon but as long as it proved useful, the king of men would not spend time questioning mundane things.
As the Mycenae king moved to the other side to check on the other fleets, Neoptolemus heaved out a shaky sigh of fear and thrill.
“ You alright, commander?” Diomedes asked the new commander.
“ I am. Thank you.” He looked back at the Argive king. “ I’m not alone anymore.”
“ You are not alone. Remember that.” Diomedes said as he fixed the armor of Achilles on Pyrrhus. It was a little large on the shoulders, but tying the laces shorter would make do.
“ Your army is behind you. Your allies are next to you. Your charioteer is with you at all times.”
The boy put on the arm guards by himself and then the greaves on the legs. As the final touch, he put on the helmet, along with the shield and spear, then backed a few steps away, like an overexcited small child showing his father the self-made warrior costume of old rags. His face shone in anticipation and eagerness. How do I look? His eyes asked.
“ You look ready.” Diomedes smiled painfully. Is this what his mother saw when he left for war the first time? Is this what his mother saw, a child born with the shackles of the long gone past on his shoulders, too heavy to carry but unable to take off.
“ I am scared.” The boy admitted. His eyes were still of child-like innocence, but a few minutes later the gaze would be dulled by the reality of war and hate. Just like his own years ago.
He clasped the boy’s shoulders, straightened him one last time. Pyrrhus out of impulse hugged him back like a child leaving the house for the first time, clinging into him like a lifeline. Then when he retreated and looked back at Diomedes, his eyes ignited with the same flame of Achilles': strong, determined and ready. Although their fates had been weaved out, the Argive would not let the boy die alone, that’s the least he could do.
” Don’t worry. I’ll be right there when you need me.”