While the war continued for some time,
ultimately, sly Odysseus came up with a plan to breach the walls of Troy. The Achaean’s built a giant wooden
horse. While some sailed the ships
around to a hidden spot, others climbed into the horse and waited for the Trojans
to come down to the beach and discover the supposed gift of peace. Accepting
this gift, then took the wooden horse into the city and celebrated.
Late that night, the Achaeans hidden in the
horse came out, opened the gate allowing those had hidden the ships to enter
and burned Troy. Most of Troy’s
citizens were either killed or enslaved.
Priam was killed and it is likely, Andromache,
Hektor’s wife was taken as a slave, she was quite lovely. It is just as likely that Hektor’s
son, Skamandrios since the Achaens wouldn’t want to leave any royalty
behind.
An older, wiser Helen returned home
with Menelaus. Is he happy now? I
don’t know. Agamemnon made it home
too. While the bards will sing
that he was killed by his unfaithful wife, I believe Clytemnestra had been
waiting all those years of the war to seek vengeance for the death of her
daughter, Iphegina. That’s what I
would have done.
Speaking of losing children, I don’t
know exactly when it happened because I couldn’t bring myself to watch anymore,
but sometime near the end of the war, Achilleus was killed by Paris. It was an arrow to the heel I’m
told. Ironic really, the worst of
the Trojan’s killed the best of the Achaeans. It is equally ironic that Paris managed to find the one mortal
spot on my son; the spot where I held Achilleus while I dipped him into the
river Styx.
I spend most of my time deep in the
ocean now, away from Olympus, away from mortals. The sadness of their lives eventually comes to an end. My sadness; however, will go on
forever. Such is the nature of an
immortal.