The melody was different, but the moment that flawless playing began,
Achilles recognized the feeling immediately and understood that this was the same person whose music lifted him out of despair.
That voice that gave him hope when he was most adrift.
Thinking about that,
Achilles calmed down.
He felt genuine gratitude and warmth toward whoever played that music, and it made him willing to listen to what this person had to say.
Maybe it really was just a misunderstanding.
If there was a real explanation and it wasn't too unreasonable, he could hear it out.
Not expecting himself to carry this much weight, Night began to sing.
Just as he did for Ajax, he sang out the sorrowful prediction, and Achilles finally understood why Ajax tried to stop Patroclus from putting on the armor.
Exactly the same.
Night kept calling it a guess, but Achilles felt it the same way Ajax did, as something closer to prophecy.
When he heard Patroclus would die, he seemed to actually see it in the world the music wove around him, that bleak image of aftermath.
He wept with grief and called out in a broken voice, clutching a divine spear while compelling the heroes to perform and compete in front of his friend's body, a final send-off for Patroclus.
He saw Ajax, Odysseus, and Diomedes competing against each other.
Then he saw himself step back onto the battlefield too, and finally die on it.
When the image of Achilles's death, his heel, flashed past, Night didn't describe the specific cause, so Achilles couldn't see clearly how he died.
But the massive wave of terror in that instant still crashed through him and left him cold.
It made Achilles think of another prophecy he already carried.
One he knew before he ever set foot on the Greek battlefield.
His mother Thetis learned from the Fates that he was destined to die in war.
So from childhood she burned away his mortal parts with divine fire, restored him with divine balm, and dipped his body in the river Styx, making him impervious to blades and beyond the reach of gods.
All of it to protect him, to keep him from the death that was coming.
When Odysseus and the other heroes came searching for him to join the Trojan War, his parents even had him disguise himself as a woman to avoid the draft and escape the fate of setting foot on the battlefield.
But in the end, drawn out by the sight of heroes in combat and unable to suppress what lived inside him, Achilles revealed himself.
He always knew deep down he wanted to be on that battlefield.
He didn't fear dying. Courage was the highest honor. Cowardice was the most useless thing a person could be.
But.
So I really am going to die after all.
After stepping back onto the battlefield one more time.
At this moment, Achilles seemed to understand.
He understood his fate, his ending, where the last point of his life was.
He didn't ask Night how he died, or how someone supposedly impervious to blades could still be killed.
He simply accepted it, though his face stayed pale.
Especially thinking about his friend dying before him.
"I was wrong, Patroclus.
I gave you the armor, and by doing that I put you in danger. I'm sorry.
I shouldn't have agreed to it."
At this point Patroclus was completely frantic.
He heard the terrifying images in Night's music too, and he was scared. But then he thought about losing the armor and soldiers he just got hold of.
The reluctance hit him hard. He didn't want to take the armor off.
On one hand the vision of death frightened him.
On the other, something puffed up inside him refused to let go.
Even the wise Nestor said it had to be him and no one else.
Maybe he really was the destined hero, the one who would save Greece and turn the war around.
How could someone like that die on the battlefield?
...
Patroclus's mood collapsed and he said irritably: "Achilles, swift-footed Achilles, my dearest friend!
You already promised me the armor and the Myrmidons, for me to lead into battle and rescue the disadvantage on the field, to save all our fellow Danaans who need saving.
You are the son of the hero Peleus and the sea goddess Thetis.
You cannot go back on your word and forget your promise. Achilles!"
...
Achilles opened his mouth, looking at Patroclus who still didn't understand his own limits, and didn't know what to say.
This was the most worrying sight of all.
At least Achilles came to his senses now, so that was something. Better late than never.
It was a good thing Night's music was what got through to him.
If Ajax tried to explain it alone, ten mouths wouldn't have been enough, and Achilles probably would have beaten him up in the process.
.
.
.
Meanwhile,
Night had no idea why Achilles trusted him this quickly.
He was surprised, but his goal was already exceeded.
All he needed was to plant a seed in Achilles's heart and the rest of the plan could follow from there.
But first,
"Achilles, could we speak alone for a moment? I have a way to persuade Patroclus." Night asked.
Achilles hesitated for a moment, then finally nodded in agreement.
The two of them stepped aside.
Patroclus's expression went cold. Persuade me?
He heard what Night said and made up his mind.
Whatever happened next, he was going to grab hold of that armor no matter what.
Whether or not he actually wore it onto the battlefield was another question, but, Achilles's armor and his forces. He had to have them.
He barely got to enjoy the feeling of having it all for even a second, and now he was being pushed back to nothing.
That kind of thing, that enormous drop, was not something Patroclus could accept.
On the other side, Ajax wasn't thinking too hard about it. He just desperately hoped Griffith could convince Achilles to stop Patroclus from going through with this.
Right now he stood exactly where he was and kept his eyes locked on Patroclus, not letting him slip away in the armor.
This posture, like a guard watching a prisoner, made Patroclus's temper flare even hotter.
.
.
.
And on Night's side with Achilles,
Achilles couldn't hold back and asked directly: "What is your plan? I can't watch Patroclus go to his death.
But I already promised him the armor and the soldiers.
If I go back on that now, my name as a hero and the honor of my parents will both be shamed."
He looked like someone with a headache, hoping Night could offer a solution that satisfied everyone.
The next moment,
Night said something that made Achilles go tense all at once and sent a chill through him.
"It's been a while, Achilles.
Has the wound from that spear healed?"
What had been only a vague, half-formed suspicion instantly became real.
The face of Griffith in front of him suddenly overlapped with another face entirely.
Achilles exclaimed in surprise.
"You, it was you?!"
.
.
.
(End of the Chapter)