Certainly, it could be said that stealth must be employed here- Spartans have never been known to be forgiving or kind. If there is one thing that I have learned while I remained among their midst, it’s that Spartans employ a kind of psychological control that I’ve never witness before.

From the rooftops I could see quite far, and yet I remained inconspicuous to the average person. Children played their games below, and their loving mothers carefully watched over them. It must be said that within Sparta there is a feeling of security and peace, and were I a citizen of this city-state I’d probably feel the same way, for everywhere one turns there is a muscle-laden bronzed man, clad in light armor and arms. From above I could see everything.

I had been born and bred to be quiet. I moved unseen, unheard, and my strike was swift and deadly. Some may label me as an assassin, but to be an assassin you must kill without moral or ethical attachment. I do not kill in that way. I kill with emotion, with reason, with attachment. I kill because I love those that I slay.

It is a tortuous gift, one such as a mine. Each time I kill I am overcome with a wave of emotions- love, anger, hatred, torment, sadness, and eventually, depression. Each is a stage that I must endure for the greater good. Each is a stage that I must endure for my own sanity.

The guards below had finally turned their backs. I could see hordes of them gravitating towards the city center- something must be going on right now. The soldiers pressed on calmly, as if this was a routine. Surely this did happen often, as all of the guards away from their posts at once could present quite an opportunity for more enterprising types.

A glance towards the city gates to the west confirmed my suspicions: the guards remained at the gates, steadfast in their resolve to ensure that the city remains enclosed and secure. Well, perhaps secure enough.

I placed my hands on the edge of the roof and swung my body over the edge. Now hanging, I placed my feet against the wall and thrust, while at the same time forcing my body to wrap around itself. As I fell I reached out and took hold of a lower ledge, bringing my free-fall to an abrupt halt. Now hidden between two buildings, I let go and fell the remaining few feet to the ground below.

Not a bad way to decent from a building.

People walked past the alleyway that I resided in without noticing me inside. No, what was there to notice about a man dressed as everyone else? Even so, from within the shadows I could render myself almost invisible.

I waited for the right moment to join the Spartan crowd. I could not help but watch the crowd as it passed by- mothers guiding their children, husbands embracing their wives. I continued to watch the crowd until a large group, possibly a large family or group of close friends, came marching past. I joined them unnoticed, and made my way with the crowd until I came to the clearing I was observing from the rooftops a few minutes prior.

The same mothers were there, along with their children, still idly playing and enjoying their lives. There was one child I had been observing in particular – a boy that was 5 or 6 years old at the most – and I had decided that today he would be the one I would choose.

I reached into my pocket and retrieved two circular orbs that had been given to me by a friend of mine in the orient. The orbs themselves were nothing spectacular, but rather it was what they could do that was most interesting. Apparently these orbs, when thrown upon the ground, exploded into a huge cloud of smoke. Enough smoke, apparently, to conceal a man crafty enough to use the distraction to his advantage.

And so I would. I thrust the orbs to the ground, ensuring that each hit approximately ten feet from each other, and rushed into the resulting haze. I grabbed the child and retreated into the crowd, which was now panicking due to the confusion. It was not for a few moments that I heard the cries from the mother. Her calls for her child echoed predominantly throughout the street, and had I not already scaled the walls of the building I was occupying earlier I would surely have been noticed and apprehended.

I set the child down, my left hand covering his mouth. He was afraid- his blue eyes pierced me, as if they knew what was happening next. My right hand reached towards the sheath behind my back and retried my freshly sharpened dagger. He began to breathe heavily, almost hysterically. Tears streamed down the side of his face. He knew he was going to die.

“Fear not child,” I whispered to him, “for in your death you shall find salvation. The Olympians do not waste the life of a boy. You shall find peace in the events of today.”

As I drew my dagger I entered my period of hyper-awareness: the mother still cried for her child, the crowd still screamed and scurried about like a bunch of chickens with their heads chopped off, and the boy was still crying. His years touched my hand, and I could feel the swell in my eyes.

I thrust down. The deed was done. The mother still cried, and the crowd still moved, only now the boy did not fret. His torment had ended, while the torment that would soon plague this city was just beginning.

Comments(0)

I awoke in a fog of confusion, desperately trying to remember where I was and how I may have come to be there. My body, still paralyzed by the seduction of unconsciousness, suddenly sprang to life when I became aware of my surroundings and the potential vulnerability of my situation. I lifted my head and was greeted by a sea of Trojan bodies and the unforgiving stench of death. Vultures had descended upon the fallen warriors and had begun devouring their exposed faces and wounds. No sign of human life was apparent. How long had I been lying here left for dead? Where were my Achaean brothers? How is it that all of these men had fallen, yet all of my comrades were spared?

I climbed to my feet, fearing in the back of my mind that I would collapse due to some injury I had not yet realized I sustained. I gazed as far as I could see in every direction before I came to the frightening realization that I had absolutely no idea where I was. In fact, I could hardly recall anything. The last memory I had was of saying goodbye to my brother in Alissos. How much time had passed since then?

I wandered amongst the dead, searching for a sign, hoping to know it when I came upon it. In the distance I heard a man crying out to Zeus. I followed his pleas and approached him with caution. He had been impaled with a spear straight through his belly and left for dead. The trauma and chaos of battle had a firm grip on him. Every attempt I made to get his attention was in vain. Against my better judgment I crept closer, and eventually I was inches away from his heaving body, hovering right above him. His eyes looked everywhere except towards me. When his gaze did cross mine it was as if he was looking straight through me. I concluded that he must be departing to the afterlife, and no longer aware of the mortal world. Respectfully, I left him to his fate.

With no direction to speak of, I resumed my wandering path, knowing fully well what would happen to me if discovered by the Trojans. Just as I began contemplating my own demise, as if out of thin air, a large man with a wild beard appeared before me. I reached for my sword, and a wave of regret washed over me as I realized that in my haste and confusion I had neglected to retrieve it.

“That will not be necessary, Nicholas”, he spoke in an unsettling voice. Hearing my name aloud caused me to realize how close I had come to forgetting it.

“Who are you?” I implored.

“Who I am is far less consequential than what I am”.

He then casually strode past me towards the doomed Trojan who had since begun sobbing. Then from beneath his robe he unsheathed a terrible sword and before it even appeared to be in motion the man’s head lay on the ground. The silence was deafening. My paralysis returned as he turned towards me and smiled.

“Come now, Nicholas, you’ve toiled long enough”, he stated in a matter of fact tone, almost mocking my inability to move. It was not until he produced his grim upside-down torch that the true horror of my predicament set in. Almost involuntarily, I then followed Thornatos into the darkness.

Back to Ancient Greek Mythology Fanfiction

Comments(0)

Heralded by some as the greatest fighter of the Trojan War, Hector is remembered not only as being one of the distinguished members of the noble Nine Worthies, but also as one of the most courageous warriors of Greek Mythology. Hector was a pivotal character in Homer’s Iliad.

Mythology

Hector was the son of Priam, and Hecuba, the King and Queen of Troy during the Trojan War. Being the noble man that he was, Hector did not approve of the war between the Greeks and the Trojans. After an inconclusive duel (that would have ended the war) between his brother Paris and the king of Ancient Sparta, Menelaus, an archer named Pandarus wounded Menelaus with a surprise arrow attack, causing the Trojan War to carry on.

After a heavy Greek attack and despite his wife Andromache’s pleads, Hector decided to launch a counter-attack. Although Hector knew that Troy and the house of Priam would inevitably be conquered, he was also informed by his divinely inspired brother Helenus that he was not yet fated to die. After emerging from the gates, he challenged any one of the Greek warriors to single combat. After much hesitation, Ajax accepted the challenge and the two battled for the entire day with neither ever becoming victorious. They ended up commending each other’s valor and Hector even gave Ajax his sword, while Ajax in turn gave Hector his girdle.

The bloody battles ensued once again in the days following, and then Patroclus, the closest companion of the infamous Achilles, disguised himself in the armor of Achilles and headed into battle, where he was eventually killed by Hector. Hector then took the armor for himself. Shortly after, a fierce battle for the body of Patroclus began, which the Greeks ended up winning. Upon discovering the body of his comrade, Achilles became enraged, and vowed to avenge his death.

Achilles went on a rampage killing several Trojans on his quest to find Hector. Once Hector realized that Achilles was near, he became overwhelmed with fear and fled, and Achilles chased him throughout the city of Troy. Eventually, Hector overcame his fear and confronted Achilles, and asked that his body be returned to Priam for a proper burial, to which Achilles refused. After a couple missed spear attacks by Achilles, Hector drew his sword. Achilles then realized that Hector was wearing his own armor, which he had taken from Patroclus, and then plunged his spear into the weak spot at the throat, creating the wound that slowly killed Hector. As Hector died, he begged Achilles to not desecrate his body, but Achilles responded by instead divulging in detail exactly what he would do to his body. Once he was dead, Achilles cut slits in each of Hector’s heels and removed Hector’s girdle, which he received from Ajax, and slid it through the slits he made. He then fastened it to his chariot and drug Hector’s body through the dust all the way back to Danaan camp. When king Priam appeared in person to request the body of his son be returned, Achilles obliged out of respect. Hector is remembered in the last lines of the Iliad, and is referred to as “the tamer of horses”.

Hector in Popular Culture:

• The character of Hector was played by Eric Bana in the 2004 blockbuster, Troy, and also by Harry Andrews in the 1956 film, Helen of Troy.

• The Jack of Diamonds bears the likeness of Hector in French playing cards.

• Heavy Metal band Manowar has a song about the death of Hector on their album The Triumph of Steel.

Back to Ancient Greek Heroes

Comments(0)

Though often remembered together in history, there are several cultural, social and ideological differences between the people of Ancient Greece and the people of Ancient Rome.

The similarities that they do share, however, are a result of Greco-Roman relations as early as the 8th century BC, when Italian tribes came into direct contact with the Greeks who had settled in Southern Italy and Sicily. The Italians were influenced by many aspects of Greek culture, such as the alphabet, coinage, as well as some of their gods. The next big Greco-Roman clash was during the conquest of Greece and other Hellenistic countries in the 2nd and 1st centuries BC. At the time, Roman civilization was still in its infancy, and was nothing like the empire that it would go on to become. In fact, most Romans were peasants, and viewed the Hellenistic lifestyle as far more comfortable and luxurious than their own. They soon adopted several other Greek elements such as statues, mosaics on the floors, and the practice of dining while reclined.

While there are notable similarities between the Ancient Greeks and the Ancient Romans, the differences are vast. First of all, the term “Ancient Greeks” usually refers to the people of Greece from 750 BC (the archaic period) to 146 BC. While “Ancient Romans” are historically considered the inhabitants of Rome from the 9th century BC all the way up until the 5th century AD. Although both civilizations began around relatively the same time period, the Greeks are actually the older of the two. The Greek Dark Age goes back as far as 1150 BC, and there is evidence of Greek civilizations even before then. On the other hand, the Roman Empire lasted for 12 centuries, while the lifespan of Ancient Greece (from the archaic period) was considerably shorter.

Even though the Ancient Greeks shared many gods with the Romans, they often had different names for them. For instance, the god of beauty was known to the Greeks as Aphrodite, while the Romans called her Venus. Similarly, the Greeks had Poseidon, while the Roman equivalent was Neptune. Some gods had common names between the two cultures, such as Apollo.

In ancient Rome, having social prominence often afforded one special rights, while this was not the case in Greece. People born into prominent Greek families generally were not entitled to any additional societal benefits, and were not given any extra power within the government. They were divided into four social classes based on wealth, but it was possible for people to change social class if they earned more money. In Sparta, all men who completed their education were given the title of equal. Slaves in ancient Greece had no political power, but were allowed to have families and even own land. In Rome, political power and social status were kindred forces. The voting system consisted of tribes of voters, and the tribes were made up of citizens of the same social class. The tribes of the lowest classes were often very big and few, while the tribes of higher classes were small and abundant. Voting would commence until the majority of the tribes had voted, often resulting in many of the lower class citizens being disregarded.

Another key difference was language. While the people of Ancient Greece spoke Greek, the Romans spoke Latin. Eventually, after increased contact with Greece, Roman nobility and scholars began adopting Greek as a second language.

Back to Mythology Madness Articles

Comments(0)