Wars Of Love

The Agora

Achilles and I had spent countless hours training with the most renowned warriors in all of Greece, but none of them compared to the legendary Lord Chiron, whom we were about to meet today.

Lord Chiron had struck a deal with King Peleus, allowing Achilles and me the privilege of being trained under his tutelage. It was an opportunity like no other, a chance to learn skills and techniques that no other warrior had ever mastered.

Achilles was positively ecstatic, his excitement practically radiating off him. "I can't believe it! We're actually going to be trained by Lord Chiron himself!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his joy. I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, though I had lost count of how many times he had repeated that same sentence throughout the day.

As we waited for our meeting with Lord Chiron, I suggested that we engage in other activities to pass the time. Perhaps we could read, practice playing the lyre, or even play a game. However, Achilles was far too preoccupied with his anticipation and couldn't focus on anything else.

Finally, unable to bear his incessant pacing any longer, I grabbed Achilles by the arm and spoke out of frustration. It was a rare moment of assertiveness from me, as I had never demanded anything from him before. But the constant pacing was becoming unbearable, and I had reached my limit.

Achilles was taken aback by my sudden change in demeanor. He had never heard me order him to do anything before, and it was certainly not how our interactions were supposed to go. But I had grown tired of his restlessness and felt compelled to speak up.

"Pacing around aimlessly isn't going to accomplish anything," I said firmly, trying to keep my frustration in check. "I understand that you're excited, but we shouldn't waste our time like this. Can we please do something productive before we leave? We have no idea when we'll be back."

Achilles seemed to snap out of his shocked state and nodded in agreement. "You're right. It's foolish to waste our precious time doing nothing," he admitted. With a playful glint in his oceanic eyes, he grabbed my hand and led the way. "Come, let's visit the Agora."

Normally, we would visit the bustling marketplace twice a month, always accompanied by guards. However, this time we ventured out on our own, feeling a newfound sense of freedom.

Along the way, Achilles managed to procure two cloaks from a random house, which we used to conceal our identities. As we entered the Agora, a vibrant and bustling scene greeted us. People meandered through the crowded markets, their arms laden with various goods - food, drinks, jewelry, clothing, and even weapons and armor.

The bright colors of blue and white adorned the attire of the locals, providing some respite from the scorching sun. Men wore tunics that fell just above their thighs, while women's garments flowed all the way down to their feet.

We strolled through the winding streets, taking in the sights and sounds of the marketplace. Achilles, always the playful one, picked up a flowing red dress meant for women and jokingly draped it over himself. "So, how do I look?" he quipped, a mischievous grin lighting up his face.

"If it were a competition, Helen would surely pale in comparison," I replied, referring to Helen of Sparta, renowned as the most beautiful woman in all of Greece. We had caught a glimpse of her at her wedding to King Menelaus, and her ethereal beauty was truly unmatched.

It was quite uncommon for women to marry at the age of nineteen, as it was considered relatively older. However, Helen's extraordinary beauty made her an irresistible prospect for any man.

Her husband, Menelaus, the powerful king of Sparta, reigned over one of the strongest nations in the Greek world and it was widely known that he and Helen were deeply and passionately in love.