Achilles
When she heard the news of my death, I begged her not to go there, but she couldn’t hear me. I’m now a ghost.
I didn’t believe in such a thing, but there I was, in spirit form, begging the love of my life not to go to my lifeless body.
I hurried behind her. “Alana! Alana, my love, please! Please, turn back around. Run away. You won’t survive this. Please!” My voice rang out, but all it seemed to do was intensify the wind blowing around her.
I knew she wouldn’t stop, but I couldn’t help myself. I tried stepping out in front of her, but she went right through me.
My heart ached as she dropped to her knees. She wanted to see me. To see my body and believe I was truly gone. As her fingers sunk in to the earth, I felt them on me as I was now part of the earth. My soul was no longer in my body. I dropped down to my knees in front of her, trying to get her to see me, but she looked right past me. I knew the moment my mother stepped out that there was no way out for Alana. I stood up quickly. Still in the armor I died in, I ran to my mother.
“Mother please…” I begged. I never begged for anyone. But for Alana, I would do anything. “Mother, please let her go. Don’t do this to her. She doesn’t deserve this.”
My mother loathed her because she was beneath her, and she was the color of the dark earth. Yet, to me, she was beautiful. Alana’s face glowed in the sun when she smiled. Her brown ringlets of hair draped around her shoulders when she took them out of the halo braid she wore, making her as beautiful as a goddess. Her brown eyes called to me no matter where I was. I couldn’t look away from those eyes; they spoke of love to me. Love I wanted to get back to. Her small figure, compared to my much larger warrior size, felt good in my hands. She wasn’t as small as all the other Greek women. Alana was curvaceous in every way. Her hips and thighs warmed me whenever I was between her legs making rough love to her. Her bosom spilled out of my large hands when I captured them. Everything about her brought me alive. Now, I am dead.
Dead to the world. But, to her, I was alive, and she was seeking me out.
The moment my mother gave the order to bring her to the dungeon, everything inside me turned into ice. I was frozen in place until those guards grabbed her like she was a piece of cloth. I roared like a mighty lion, and the only thing that responded was a torch blowing out on the side of the pillar. Her sweet voice and pleading words dragged my roaring to a halt.
“Please, let me see him.”
She was begging to see me just once more. I looked at my mother as her icy, green eyes didn’t waver. I turned my gaze back on Alana.
“Please, Mother,” I begged through clenched teeth. “Let me feel her touch once more, just once more.”
Alana’s sobbing broke me as they dragged her to the dungeon. I followed, trying to pry them off her, but my grasp went right through them. The gods were playing a sick joke on the both of us. I just wished they’d stop soon.
As we got to the dungeon, I went to her. I watched as she scurried like a scared little mouse to a corner. She brought her knees up to her chest and laid her head on them.
“My love,” I called out to her. “I’m here. I’m here with you.” I looked up to the heavens and, for the very first time, prayed an earnest and sincere prayer.
“I beg you, gods, please let her see me just once more. Allow her to see ghosts like me, so we can part the right way. Let me profess my love to her once more. I beg of you.”
I sighed, not knowing if my prayer was answered. I looked back down at my love and hoped she would make it out of there in one piece.
***
The first time I saw Alana, I came back from training with my men after days of preparing ourselves. We were loud and rowdy as we sat down in the hall. We drank plenty as the slaves refilled our goblets. I looked at the women walking around us, some feeding us, some filling up our drinks and others there for our entertainment. The woman that usually occupied my bed sat in my lap. She was slender with a slim waist and a bosom that filled my hands. Her creamy skin was soft to the touch. Her blue eyes complimented her skin as the tiny spray of freckles decorated her face. She was beautiful to say the least. I enjoyed the way her small, soft hand felt on my thigh as she caressed it each time, moving closer and closer to her target. I smirked at her as she ran her fingers through my locks. That felt good, especially since I hadn’t been with a woman in a while. I was enjoying the way her mouth felt on my neck, until I heard a squeal and something crashing to the ground. I turned my head and looked in the direction of the noise. I observed the situation as one of my men had Alana in a chokehold hanging in the air. Her feet dangled, and her hands gripped his wrist. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but then he squeezed a bit harder.
“Cyril, put her down,” I commanded.
I didn’t particularly know the slave, but he was killing her for no reason. He was a bit too drunk, and he was too strong for his own good. He let her go, and she dropped with a huge thud. She started to cough so hard, I thought more than just her lungs would come out from her mouth. She didn’t move as she kept her eyes downcast without saying much else. Cyril looked my way, and I shrugged my shoulders.
“I was having fun,” he said.
I shook my head. What was so fun about asphyxiation? Cyril looked away from me and back to her. He eyed her up and down, not hiding the lust from building up inside of him.
I finally took a good look at her. I couldn’t see much, but her body was in full view with the see-through dress she had on. I could see her heavy bosom leading to a stomach that wasn’t flat. I couldn’t properly see anything else, as she was still on the floor. She must’ve felt my eyes on her because she looked up at me. When she looked at me, my breath caught in my chest. She didn’t just have an angelic face, she was much more beautiful than that. Her face should’ve been rendered sinful to look at. Her big, brown eyes seemed to see me. I tilted my head causing my golden mid-chest length hair to move with me. I studied her, not hearing when Cyril called out to me.
“Achilles!” he bellowed.
Finally, snapping out of it, I turned to look his way. He had a weird look on his face I couldn’t interpret. He stood up and reached for the slave.
She said nothing, but her eyes widened. She didn’t want to go with him.
“Unhand her,” I demanded.
Cyril was visibly surprised I even told him that. I never asked for him to unhand any woman he wanted, or took, but there was something different about her.
“What?” he questioned me. “She’s mine for the time being,” he said as if he was warning me.
I didn’t like that.
I lightly maneuvered the maiden from my lap as I stood up. I had height on Cyril and was much stronger than him. I took the simple steps toward them, standing toe to toe with Cyril. I reached for his hand on her upper arm and forcefully removed it. She took a step back as if to run and then thought better of it. I looked back up at Cyril and cocked my eyebrow, daring him to challenge me. He said nothing, but I could tell he was fuming. I grabbed her wrist and attempted to walk away, but Cyril stepped in front of me once more.
“Alana is mine,” he repeated, this time causing my men to look towards our table. The room grew quiet.
Ah! So, her name’s Alana. Alana… I repeated it in my head. Then, I looked at Cyril once more.
I don’t know what came over me as I threw my head back and laughed hard. I laughed so hard tears threatened to escape my lids. As abruptly as I began laughing, I stopped. I looked Cyril in his eyes with my icy stare and dared him to challenge me once more. I wondered if he knew better or not. Everyone sat at their tables waiting to see what would happen. Cyril must’ve sobered up. He blinked rapidly and moved out of my way.