Death of a Hero

The battle for Troy had been waging for a decade but still the city stood tall. And now the Grecians had lost their strongest contender; Achilles. He refused to fight as it seemed. But one day that changed as if with the course of the wind. Achilles and his men were on the battlefield, cutting through the Trojans and their allies like butter. So of course, as soon as King Sarpedon had heard he armored up and took to the field in his chariot with twin spears in hand. He met Achilles in his gleaming armor with his spear that had slain so many of his men. Finally he’d have the chance to avenge his fallen soldiers and end the war. Without Achilles the Grecians would surely fail in seizing Troy. As the fates would have it though, it would not be Achilles that fell that day. Sarpedon raised his weapons against his rival, fighting with everything he had. He’d slain Agememnon and Diomedes after all, surely this man would be no different. But his best would not win out against the fabled warrior. As he lunged forward to attack Achilles jumped over him and skewered him from behind with his spear. A sharp pain rushed through the king’s body and he fell to his knees. “Any last words?” Came his attacker’s voice from behind him as he plunged the spear deeper. Sarpedon saw his life flash before him and blood began to rain from the heavens; he’d disappointed his father. But even so all he could think of was that he be given the proper burial a king deserved. He called out to his friend, expressing his desire as Achilles pulled the spear from his body and his life faded to black. ~*~ He awoke on the arms of what he could only assume was a god, strong but gentle and kind. He let out a soft groan, the pain of death now gone. He looked up at the man carrying him and his breath hitched. He was beautiful. If this was to be his afterlife perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all. “W-what… happened?” He asked the man whom he was quickly coming to realize was Thanatos, the fabled god of death. Death gave him a soft smile, not answering immediately as they entered into the halls of the Temple of Styx. “You fought bravely.” He told him, gently putting him down on his feet and dismissing his brother, Hypnos, who had been assisting the God. “Your final wishes were headed though not without trouble.” He explain as Sarpedon gathered himself on his feet. “What do you mean?” He asked with a frown. The last thing he remembered was Achilles killing him. Everything between then and now was lost to the void of his memory. “The Grecians overtook your soldiers after you fell. They stripped your body of your armor and battered you worse than you were, I’m afraid. Apollo stepped in however and ferried your body to myself and my brother. We took you home to Lycia and cleaned you up. You were given your proper funeral rites as you asked.” He explained. It was a lot for the fallen king to take in. Not just his words but the God standing, no, hovering in front of him. His touch had been cold on his skin but not unpleasant and he looked nothing like what he imagined death would. He wasn’t old. He wasn’t decrepit. Instead he was beautiful. And he’d been the one to carry out his last wishes. Even during a war that claimed many many lives, it was he that Death had chosen to tend to. He bowed his head solemnly though a soft smile danced across his lips. “Thank you, my lord.” He praised him. He did not answer his thanks, instead he led him to the boat that was waiting on the River for him. “Your debt has been paid to him. Lord Hades himself has requested your audience in his own home.” He told him, moving back as Sarpedon stepped into the boat with Charon. Hades? He couldn’t imagine what the god of the dead could possibly want with him but he nodded regardless. He supposed it was better than being taken to Tartarus. He hoped so anyway. He turned back to thank Thanatos once again but he was gone, no doubt to collect more souls that fell in battle. He hoped Achilles would be among them.