The Invincible Man with a Mortal Heart
After the death of Hector, the Greeks surged with renewed strength, but for Achilles, victory felt hollow. His wrath had been spent, but his heart remained a grave, empty without Patroclus. He fought not for glory, not for Greece—but because it was all he had left.
Yet even Achilles, blessed by the gods, could not escape his fate. Thetis, his mother, had long known the prophecy:
“If you go to Troy, you will win eternal glory, but you will not return home.”
Achilles never feared death—but now, with vengeance behind him, he felt its shadow creeping closer.
In Troy, Paris, once a mere prince hiding behind his brother’s valor, was given a weapon not of his own making—a bow crafted by the gods, guided by the will of Apollo. The gods had chosen their moment, for even heroes cannot outrun destiny.
The Fall of a Legend
The Arrow of the Gods
The battle raged outside Troy’s walls. Achilles was unstoppable—a storm clad in bronze, cutting through Trojan ranks with divine fury. His armor, a gift from Hephaestus, gleamed with the light of an immortal, but beneath the metal was still flesh.
Paris, armed with Apollo’s bow, stood hidden among the battlements. As Achilles pursued the fleeing Trojans, Apollo himself guided Paris’ hand, steady as fate.
The arrow flew.
Not at his heart. Not at his head.
But at his heel—the one place untouched when Thetis had dipped her infant son into the River Styx, believing she had made him invincible.
The arrow struck. Achilles faltered, his strength pouring from the wound like blood-soaked prophecy.
But even as death claimed him, Achilles did not fall quietly. He fought to his last breath, standing, unbowed, as though daring death itself to finish what it had started.
The Legacy of Achilles
Glory Carved in Stone
The Greeks mourned as they had never mourned before. Achilles, the greatest of them all, was gone. His death did not dim his legend; it burned brighter, etched into the hearts of men like the scars left on the battlefield.
They built a great pyre, and as his body burned, his name rose with the smoke—immortal, as the gods had promised. His ashes were placed beside Patroclus’, so they would never be parted, even in death.
But Achilles’ armor did not die with him. It passed to the next warrior—a prize that would spark new rivalries, as Ajax and Odysseus fought over it, their friendship fractured by the same pride that had once consumed Achilles.
And in Troy, the walls still stood. The war was not over. The Greeks had lost their mightiest warrior, but the city’s fall had been written long before Achilles drew his first breath.
—To be continued in Chapter 7: The Trojan Horse.