Immortality.. The Commencement of Something Greater

The faces of the men I've killed shall haunt my dreams for centuries to come. My bloodstained soul shall be tormented for the deeds I have done and the kings I have served but none shall forget my name and so I remain... Immortal. Look upon my face and shun me not young warrior. I have seen into the hearts of the bravest and most fearful of men. I have snatched from them the innocence of their child and bedded the fairest of their maidens. I have drank supper with the Gods and sat at the tables of my enemies. I have seen the gates of Hades and the boatman that waits upon the banks of the River Styx and I have known no rest. There is no peace for a man of war. Now tell me ... What is your purpose for fighting. " My father said to me what I am saying to you now and I knew those words to be law. Fight for your honour. Fight for your country, fight for love. Make peace with the enemy that will slay you where you lay for this is the friend that shall deliver unto to you many a men who speak of your demise. Your name shall be engraved upon the tablet of time and stories of your conquests shall spread like wildfire through the land but immortality has a price. His eyes searched mine like the crows of the wasteland search for scavenging meat. He sought an inclination of understanding gorging through the expanse that was my being but found it not. For my thoughts were of war and of dreams and of conquests great and small. Of the wine I'll drink and the women I'll bed and the men that will shudder at the very mention of my name. I thought of nothing but the glory of war. The glory of immortality...

My story begins where I lay, battered and bruised with the stench of the dead and stains of war ripe in my veins. My limbs limp, my breath frail, my heart weak but my spirit never more invigorated. My bleeding corpse of a body lay amongst the dead, swimming amidst the blood of the warriors I'd slain. It is here I lay and here I was found. My name is Mycaenely, son of a fallen land...

The sun beat down angrily on my broken body. The putrid stench rose like vapour spreading with the occasional wind that would bless the plains. I had seen many a thing in my lifetime but it seemed today my sight was cut from the world. My vision had not improved in the time that had passed me here, paralyzed within this trench of rotting flesh. The blades of grass beneath me, a comfort only I amongst this vast expanse could appreciate were too, bathed in the blood of slain men. Their voices danced upon my memories, their screams preyed upon my dreams and their faces haunted even my nightmares. I rested my head gently upon nature’s sole offer of comfort, awaiting the fate dealt to me by the gods. Be it life or death. I would face it without fear. Of that I was sure.

My eyes fluttered open to the cry of a sullen crow. It seemed they had come to feast upon the flesh that lay strewn about the green ocean of the land tainted by the blood of a thousand men. My throat yearned for a drink of the sailors wine I had tasted only a night before and my skin pleaded with the heavens for the blessing they had poured out before this war. The floods had come that week and many a man prayed for the day when the torrents would come to an end. Now I lay amongst a sea of death and despair, begging that I may be showered with such gifts. The sword firmly enthralled in my right palm's grip felt like a weight immeasurable by the worlds best scholars. My fingers wrapped firmly around the hilt, I clutched to it, like I did my dear life, the very thing I felt certain I would soon be rid off. It was not by choice but by destiny. My fate is seemed, had been ordained even before my birth. My tales written long before my very existence. A light breath escaped my lips as my eyes closed once again.

"Pay me penance boy.." His tongue was sharp and his words sliced my soul like the blade of the kings of my time. "I have but nothing to offer boatman." My fingers felt about my body for the treasure which he sough after. "Then it seems you shall remain here. Ne'er to cross.." The murk green water rippled at the touch of the oar. He pushed off. My vision restored, I watched as the small vessel slowly departed, drifting down the River Styx. Its seems my time on the surface had ended. The world would now be left empty in my absence and the stories of my exploits I have left to burgeon within the minds of men and be documented into the great books of history and yet it seemed not even Hades would take me in.
"I have waited quite a while for you Mycaenely.. “Her breath was cold, slithering along the nape of my neck and sending a cold shiver down my spine. I dared not turn, for I knew it to be her. The voice that had been burnt upon my mind like the words engraved on a tombstone. She spoke softly yet her words stung as the struck my core.” It seems your wait has ended. What then shall you now do?"

A lone finger trailed the nape of my neck and turned my face to hers. Our lips mere moments from each other, she poured a rhapsody into my soul. A tale of my and wonder and a legend that would grant me passage into Immortality. She told of kings and men, of a woman whose beauty tore nations apart and of the heroes who fought for her. In it all there was one thing left unscathed, untouched by mortal eyes. My heart was overwhelmed by her words. Cloaked by her deception I fell into the hypnotic rhythm of her lips as the words which bore entry into my mind played rampantly upon my thoughts. Once more I had been filled with that insatiable lust for all things great, for glory, for honour, for immortality. Seeping into my being like the very breath of life that had been taken from me. She trailed my body with her palms, her fingers. A touch like no other, she held me transfused as her lips fill my ear with trickery. My mind swirled into her web falling victim to her whims as she wove the deceitful trap that would ensnare me. I was helpless to charms, unprotected from her ways and vulnerable to her very touch. She knew of her power and of the thoughts she invoked in the most conservative of men. A smile crossed her lips as she brought hers to mine. They were soft, warm, inviting. Untouched by Tartarus's fury, they had remained the supple haven's I had once explored and immediately I hungered for more. My hands slithered around her waist as our bodies melted together, our kiss deepening in the instant. Our tongues met, conceiving a melody unmatched by nay a musician, a crescendo of peaks climbing to a plateau higher than that of Mount Olympus. She smiled again against my lips, whispering into my soul. "It's been far too long Mycaenely, far too long..."

"Far too long." I agreed as we broke apart, my hands loosening their feverish grip enough for her to look into my eyes. She spoke clearly, fluently, confidently. "What of this sword Lysini? What makes this sword a relic sought after even by the gods?" Her azure eyes bore into mine, a gaze to melt the hardest of heart. "Because of its story... The sword of Troy carries with it a legacy. It caries upon its hilt and within its blade, the entire legacy of the Trojans. A great and mighty city was forged from that sword. It has conquered, cities, nations, empires of its time all in the name of Troy. It is the foundation of the Trojan Empire and with it. Their city shall rise again. "My eyes shone with wonder as she retold the tale I had heard only as a boy. A tale of legend, a tale carried though the centuries. Its heroes as unforgotten as my valour was unmatched. "And with that they fled the city... " I watched her, staring dead into her eyes as she spoke. It was a bit much to take in but I soon managed to regain my composure. "So this Sword of Troy, the blade upon which their great nation was founded, Is it lost to the world? She smiled lightly stroking the side of my face as I nuzzled into her open palm. "No she replied. "The Sword of Troy escaped the burning city within the hands of a young boy. It is said that once a Trojan wields this sword, they city will have always have a future. The Trojan empire will become so powerful that it would rival the gods of Olympus. But there is another legend. It is said, that if an immortal were to wield that sword, he in turn would be given power to raise an empire equal in Troy's greatness. His power would be infinite and the heavens would bow before him and if you my love were to retrieve this sword. Your name would echo throughout the known world and resound through the universe. You would become unstoppable...

And thus my story begins, upon the banks of the river Styx, unwanted by the underworld, turned away from the gates of Hades, unable to await passage into the eternal. I stood, embraced by a beauty among beauties. Supple flesh, a comfort from the rotting world where I had once been imprisoned. My still heart found the will to move on from here, from the fog filled darkness, from the silence of death and from the shadows of the men fallen by my blade, all who awaited me at the Gates of Hades. "You hath waited thus long for my arrival my brethren. I deny you the privilege. You shall wait some more." Her hands slid around my waist as she turned me from their eyes, their hateful glares and their woeful scorn. We walked along the desolate river bank, speaking of times past and of lovers gone. Our laughter was like a spear through a man's heart desecrating the despair of the our surroundings. The skull heads tapered to the ceilings and roof of the cavern through which she led me seemed to lash out at our joyous speak, an abomination to all that was present here. Yet we remained, arm in arm, bathed in all that was ours traversing the shadowed darkness into the light of the known world...