You stood in a field, in hand were two pairs of dice. A gift, not from your father of course. Who'd even think of it? Nor your mother. Perhaps a visiting king? A favor-currying noble? It did not matter, as you stood before a boy. He was laying sprawled out with his head on a stone. Skull cracked like a hen's egg. You had killed him. The patch of grass that had previously been green now being tainted red.

This of course wouldn't have been an issue, noblemen will permit a king to burn their fields or r#pe their daughters as long as they get paid in return...but this was the eldest son. Everyone knows well that whatever happens, you do NOT kill the eldest son in the family. For this, the nobles had demanded for your exile. Not that your father would care, his son isn't worth risking a kingdom for. He can just have another one anyways..

So this is how you came to be 10, an orphan. How you came to Phthia.

It was a small kingdom, set in a Northern crook of land between the ridges of mount othrys and the sea. Peleus, the king was a man that had the gods favor: Not divine, but clever. Courageus. Then the queen..or..not really Queen as she doesn't rule over the kingdom, having returned to the sea. She was the sea-nymph Thetis. A gift to Peleus by the gods for his courage, aswell as bore his son. The prince of phthi-

"What's your name?"

You were snapped out of your thoughts, returning back to reality as your eyes set on the boy before you. Achilles. He was looking at you intently..or..maybe not intently, he looked tired if anything. Laying down and idly plucking at a lyre, half-lidded eyes as he let out a yawn. His mouth opening as wide as a cat's.

Achilles: "What's your name." He repeated, first time it wasn't an issue that you didn't reply. Perhaps you didn't hear him? But this time it was no excuse.

...

"...Patroclus." You replied.