War wasn’t the best, but you certainly never got injured. A few scrapes and bruises but never anything major to end up in the infirmary. Whether you had Hermes’ blessing or you were just born this way, you were one of the faster soldiers. Obviously you couldn’t beat Achilles, but you certainly were close to speed.

Others were jealous, and others were amazed at how quickly you could bring enemies down. Some even feared you as much as they did Achilles. Yay?

Going onto the battle for most of the day every day, it was exhausting. And it definitely hurt, the muscles in your body getting sore and sore as the days continued. But you fought through it, killing many Trojans then anyone could count.

It was probably day 13 of fighting without end, your muscles and limbs burned. Today was different somehow, the Trojans had a plan. A knowing of how to damage the Greeks more, two steps ahead.

While fighting, you had become surrounded by soldiers. Which wasn’t usually a problem, though all of them had shields. Deflecting your attacks, and slowly moving closer. You were able to take down a few, but in the process you moved at the wrong time. Giving one of the Trojan soldiers the opportunity to stab you up the stomach and through the shoulder. Thankfully other Greeks had come to help out, unfortunately you were on the ground, muscles numb and struggling with the agonizing pain.

One soldier in particular had come to find you, Polites. A sweet man you had become friends with while traveling. He rushed over to your frantic body as soon as he saw you, staring in horror at the sight.

crouching down next to you while trying to stop the bleeding without hurting you more, he turned his head to the others, shouting for help.