DAWN UNTIL DUSK
[ queens-hope ]
i. Overhead, the stars were veiled. I could
feel the air's heaviness. There would be a
storm tonight. The rain would be soaking,
filling up the earth until she burst her seams.
It would gush down from the mountaintops,
gathering strength to sweep away what stood
in its path: animals and houses and men. He
is such a flood, I thought.
The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller
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best read in second smallest text
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ii. They have confounded him, tied him to
a stake and baited him. I stroke the soft skin
of his forehead. I would untie him if I could.
If he would let me.
—— The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller
Eleni Athanasiou can remember the day she touched the sky, bathed her fingertips in the warmth of a golden sun, basked in the glory of the rolling hills and the lullabied order of her homeland. Troy had been a haven, of a sort, in its day of glory, lathered in daylight, blessed by the giving hand of Apollo. She had felt him at dawn, his palm clasping hers but for a moment, the intimacy of god and human and the parting recollection of stained glass mortality. Fractals in his palm as from her he did part, impressing his perfect skin, kissing his flesh with a flush like blood. A promise of death. Though she knew not of its vigor, only of her gift and her trust and her magic.
Now, she mourns death's delay. The magic is rot and the blood her blanket and the daylight a wicked thing. Apollo does not visit the province of her exhile; he did not save the man which had lain, dying, in her arms like a pheasant. He had been so cruel as to forsake a saint in the morning which he had blossomed. Watched, unmoving, as the eyes of Philtatos eclipsed. Best of men, best of healers—Patroclus. Eleni had prayed, her ivory skirt licked with crimson, returning the body to its beloved. Aristos Achaion, Apollo's reflection. He had pushed her and her prayer had fizzled to nullity and the daylight had fallen upon her like Atlas' burden. The body had fallen and the soul was waiting for a release. But whose yearned more passionately? The girl, a portrait of her apprentice's remains. The half-god, clutching his lover, gnashing his teeth at the living spirit opposite him. The conscience, free from fleshly confines at last. Or, perhaps, Apollo, who remained silent among the clouds, forever reminded of Eleni's prophecy etched across his golden surface.
Do not interfere, Zeus' warning. You have done what was required of you. He had killed a man, then. He had killed many.
Eleni did not pray when they found her by Achilles' side. She did not pray when she was banished, cast lonesome out to sea trusting only the wind. She prays only when the sun does not reach her inlet on the third day, when even the sky has cast her aside, and the dying man clutches her dreams like a leper to violet robes.
courtney eaton, eleni athanasiou
iii. My fears forgotten in the golden harbor
of his arms.
[ queens-hope ]
lucas till, apollo,
god of sun and light, music
and poetry, healing and plagues,
prophecy and knowledge, order and
beauty, archery and agriculture
iv. I should have known better than to
call upon the gods.
[ queens-hope ]
ton huekles, achilles of phthia
deaken bluman, patroclus, best of men
gideon adlon, briseis of troy
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[ queens-hope ]
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v. I saw them dreaming of the plunder they
would bring home, and the triumph. There was
no such dream for us.
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As I'm sure you can tell by the amount of times her incredible work is featured, this story is dedicated to queens-hope , for knowing my stories and I so well that she always knows what I'm looking for, for providing me a surplus of god-like graphics "just because," and for tirelessly helping me with my vision to where you would think it was her own. I love you, Cass, and I send you an eon of thanks.
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DISCLAIMER: I, in no way, am claiming the work of Madeline Miller. This book is heavily based on her novel, The Song of Achilles, and I do not own her interpretations of the characters of Achilles and Patroclus, nor her tale of the Trojan War, and I do not claim to have written or created either of these. All interpretations of characters beyond Eleni and her relations are heavily inspired by Ms. Miller's writing. I build upon these relationships and interactions throughout this book, but do not seek to overshadow her hard work, especially considering TSOA is my favorite book of all time.
HOWEVER: The interpretations of the Greek gods are my own, not that it makes me special. They act as I imagine they would. Please do not grill me if they are not entirely accurate to what you think they would be. I have also developed intricate relationships between Apollo and the other gods that are extremely important to the development of the story. I gathered many ideas as to how the gods felt during the Trojan War (who sided with who) from Homer's The Iliad.