Why him?/Achilles

chapter thirteen

"Amelia.."

I finally look away from the wall I've been staring ever since I brought Hector back.. which was yesterday. I've been blankly and lifelessly staring at a wall for a whole day.

My eyes lock with Paris's ones, filled with worry and concern. He's awkwardly standing by the door, not really knowing what to say. I wouldn't know either.

"I-It's time," I can see his Adam apple bobbing up and down as he slowly speaks, making sure I comprehend his words.

It's time.

How much I dreaded this phrase. How much I dreaded what's about to happen now.

I slowly nod but Paris doesn't move; he keeps looking at me uncertainly.

"Did you under-"

"Yes, I understood. Please leave," I snap and he flinches at my sudden outburst but exits my room nonetheless.

I stand up from the bed and close my eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Strong, Amelia. You need to be strong. Appear strong in front of your people in the funeral. They're depending on you.

My eyes sting from fighting back the tears but I think I can endure the pain for another hour or so. After many more deep breaths, I finally make my way outside the palace where my brother will be honored.

The place is packed; every single Trojan - from infants to very old people - has gathered around the pile of woods where my brothers is laying on. He is resting. He's not dead, he is just resting.

I keep telling myself that as I push my way through all the bodies and finally reach the pile where my family and some important members of the palace are standing. Father is silently crying, Helen and Paris are hugging and Andromache.. she's in the worst state of all of us.

Her expression gives no emotion out at all. She appears numb; both mentally and physically, as she stares at practically nothing with a deep scowl on her face. She's been traumatized for life.

A soldier helps me climb up the pile of woods. I tightly grasp the torch in my hands and stare down at my brother's lifelessly pale face. He used to be so young and handsome.. where did his youth and handsomeness go now?

Is this our last goodbye? Is this the last time I'm looking at his face? The last time before he dissipates into thin ashes..

My vision is blurred by the tears and I suddenly start hyperventilating. This can't be happening.. this can't be real! Hector has been Troy's best fighter ever since I can remember myself and now he's dead! How could he allow such a thing to happen? He always used to say that he'd protect his city and family until the very end, no matter what. Why did you break your promise, Hector? Why, why, why?!

"Amelia.." Paris gently touches my shoulders to calm me down. I didn't realize I had been badly shaking.

I watch as my younger brother calmly places two golden coins on top of Hector's eyes. "Have a safe trip, brother." He whispers, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. He then turns to me. "You have to do it," he tells me and points at the burning torch in my hand.

With trembling hands, I slowly and unsteadily bring the torch into contact with Hector's body. His unmoving form is quickly engulfed in bright and hot flames. I gasp at the sight and take a step back, almost falling off of the pile.

I can't bare watching my older brother being burnt. I can't let him endure such pain on his own. Suddenly feeling the intense urge to join him and share some of his pain, I extend my hand and numbly put it into the fire.

"NO!" Paris yells, harshly grabbing my hand back and crashing my body against his. "What are you doing?"

I look down at my burnt hand; my whole palm has turned an angry shade of red and it looks quite painful. But it's actually not. I don't feel any pain at all in my hand, the only pain I feel comes straight from my heart.