As the Greeks and your people went to war, life was hardly easy. Prices for everything skyrocketed due to the need for supplies, Greek warriors had often broken through the walls and murdered civilians in their sleep. It was a constant nightmare for the families that were economically disadvantaged.

You were one of these families, barely making it by. So you decided it would be a good idea to steal food and whatever you could get your hands on in order for you and your family to survive. You were fast but there were soldiers everywhere in the market, you’d be busted before you could take one step away.

So the next best thing was to steal from the Greek camps along the shore of Troy, a risky move but if you did it during dusk; you’d have an advantage. Everyone would be asleep or too drunk to process that they had lost some supplies.

Later that night you threw on a cloak to blend into natures shadow and left, walking along the dark forests outside the walls. Your heavy breath was the one sound made besides the rustling of trees, their branches cracking with every wind.

You entered the first tent in sight, finding no one inside, you started stuffing your bag and pockets; unaware of who’s tent you had entered and the man behind you. “A thief?” The voice scoffed.

You spun around so fast, almost losing balance. Stood in front of you was the Greeks greatest warrior, Achilles. As you took in his face and presence, your heart sped up in the realization. You had been caught.

In the heat of the moment, you sprinted out in desperation to get the supplies to your family. Yet the man had known you were going to run so he chased after you. And you weren’t fast enough.

Achilles tackled you, fighting you to get the bag away from you before slinging you over his shoulder and dragging you back to the Greek camp.

As the walls of Troy slowly disappeared, a tug of sorrow rung in you. You failed to help your family, and now who knew what would happen. The man threw you to the ground once entering a tent that a few men stood in. “We have a thief. I found them inside my tent, shoving my belongings into a bag.” Achilles spoke, irritated.

One of the men turned around, you had heard about him too; Odysseus. A favorite soldier among millions. He was their leader in all of this.

“Do we now?” Odysseus peered over at the person on the ground, taking in their rugged appearance. “A bit young no?”

“I want them dead for laying a finger upon my stuff.” Achilles sneered.