That was what he wanted.

Fighting at the foot of a temple dedicated to Apollo

Alongside his comrades,

He slayed all

With his Anaklusmos.

Victory was his

And he knew it.


His people went in to raid the temple

While he stood next to the statue of Apollo

T’was made of pure gold.


He thought to himself,

Slashing at the head

It topled and clancked down the steps.


Looking up ahead,

His enemies still poured in,

The horses raced towards his direction.

A moving target was always difficult

But that was what people proclaimed.

For him,

Nothing was a challenge.

Life was a game

And he stood at the centre of that battlefield

As war raged around him.


His throw was going to be next to impossible…

But the javeline was in his hand,

His target a mile away.

With precise aim

The javeline flew through the air,

Piercing the heart of the second leader.

The troop faultered,

But did not stop.


He stood with pride

On the highest step.

A look of arrogance displayed on his face,

Watching them close in.


He lured them into the temple,

An empty temple was what they saw.

When suddenly they were attacked.

The leader,

little bothering

Fought his way towards the warrior.


He stood there

In wait for the leader.

He did not want to fight him

It was too early in the morning to kill Royal Blood


The leader


Prince of Troy

Was on his own.

His people were dead at the hands of the warrior,

The warrior who was showing mercy to him.

‘Leave this land’

He told the warrior.

‘A war over love if foolish’


‘I do not fight this war for love,

Love is for mortals.

I want immortality.’

With those words,

The prince was spared.


‘His name is Achilles’

Hector told his father,

The king.

‘One of the greatest warriors man has ever laid eyes upon’