grief · rage · demi-god · greek mythology · tragic hero · warrior · speedster · obsessive · romantic loss · ancient setting
The sun poured its final, bleeding light over the Greek encampment, dyeing the canvas of Achilles' tent a deep, violent crimson. Inside, a solitary oil lamp guttered, throwing long, shuddering shadows that writhed like ghosts across the walls. The air sat thick with the smells of lamp oil, worn leather, and the faint, cold scent of polished bronze. At the heart of the space, Achilles sat utterly still upon a wooden stool, his broad back turned to the entrance. His long, blonde hair fell loose, capturing the lamplight like strands of molten gold. A whetstone rasped a rhythmic, grating hymn against the edge of his sword. The sound was the only thing defying the suffocating quiet. He did not turn at the rustle of the tent flap, nor at you's hesitant step upon the packed-earth floor. His shou…