Prologue

The dry ground cut into his skin when he fell to his knees before the invincible warrior whose blue eyes were ablaze in his infinite fury. Blood flooded his lungs due to the spear driven through his armor and deep into his chest, and he gasped incessantly at the elusive air as his body choked on the thick, red liquid. A slight breeze moved his hair across his face, and a stray ray of sunlight blinded him when he gazed up into the face of Death. In that moment, his immense pain melted into the periphery of his consciousness while his mind drifted off to another place and another time long forgotten, yet always remembered. She was standing in a field of gold with the sunlight at her back, causing her outline against the sun to overshadow her and mask her defining features. The sound of her laughter trickled through his memory like rain kissing his heated skin, and she was beckoning him to join her. His feet were weighed down by some unknown force, but he trudged forward with every ounce of his strength, straining to release himself from his invisible bonds and meet her where she stood upon the hill. With every step forward, however, she danced away from him as if even in death they were playing an endless game. Somehow he had always known he would spend his life chasing after her, but he was so tired and heavy now. He called out to her back, and she paused to peer at him over her shoulder. Her smile lit up her face with more force than pure sunlight, and he felt his restraints ease when he was met with her eyes. They reminded him of the sea and rolled over him in gentle waves, coaxing away the last remnants of his pain and leaving him in unadulterated, perfect peace. Faced with his demise, time slowed, and he was oblivious to the warrior's cry or the pain when his sword was thrust beside the spear. In his last seconds before his body crumbled and his head hit the sand, he was weightless while his soul was caught somewhere in the passageway between this world and the next, and flashes from his memory passed before his eyes. Rather than chronologically, the events swirled backwards, and in his final moment, his life ended with the beginning.

—

The blue-green sea was relatively calm due to the gentle nature of the wind that particular afternoon, and consequently, the sun's rays fell heavily across the small caravan gathered on a cliff overlooking the vast Aegean Sea. Behind them sat a quaint sub-village of Troy with lines of unassuming houses, kindly working-class citizens, and an undeniable sense of serenity. Perhaps it was due to the proximity of the sea as Hector had noted other villages to be busier and constantly in motion whereas this particular offshoot of Troy appeared much more relaxed and at ease. Ahead of him, King Priam's salt and pepper curls moved with the breeze, and his azure eyes fixed themselves on the young face of his son when he turned to consider Hector. Without hesitation, his hand found Hector's shoulder, and he squeezed it gently.

"One day, my boy, this will be your kingdom," Priam said proudly with an amused smile when he noted the excitement in Hector's eyes. The king had been travelling about his lands to see his country and countrymen, but mainly he wished to reveal himself as a considerate, attentive ruler who did not spend all his days within his massive palace, feasting on exquisite meals and drinking wine. Also, it provided an important opportunity to show his young son the kingdom he would one day inherit. Hector was only twelve, but he understood the significance of exploring his father's lands when previously he had been confined within the main city walls. Now, however, he took this journey as a sign that he was coming of age and would consequently be expected to take on more responsibilities as the firstborn son. Already, his father insisted he begin combat training –namely in the forms of sword fighting and horseback riding. Hector caught on quickly and was only too eager to continue his training. When he was not practicing his fighting techniques, his father was teaching him all the necessary skills to be a prince in line for the throne. Hector was taught Troy's history, laws, and other matters of state. Likewise, his father instilled in him all the appropriate virtues: honor the gods, love your wife, and fight for your country. Being an exceptional commander or a superior politician was not enough. Hector needed to master all disciplines if he wished to rule Troy as successfully as the line of kings who fell before him.

The royal party lingered about Troy's shores awhile longer since Priam wished to talk to a few farmers returning from their fields. Though Hector was far more disciplined than boys his age, he was only human and prone to growing bored with such adult conversations. He realized he should have feigned a correct amount of interest since his father was engaged in the conversation, but his mind wandered easily. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a sudden movement and swiftly turned his head to fully catch sight of a young girl fleeing from the confines of a house and to a nearby courtyard where she bent over in tears. Without fully realizing what he had done, he slyly slid away from the group and toward the young girl who was so obviously upset. The courtyard smelled sweet from the flowers, and the grass was soft beneath his sandals as he carefully crept up on her and noted that she was around the age of his younger brother Paris or perhaps slightly older. It was difficult to decide with her face hidden behind the veil of her chestnut brown hair. He accidentally kicked a stone, and the girl straightened to see who had snuck up on her. She had large, clear turquoise eyes the color of the sea, and they considered the young prince of Troy in confusion when she did not immediately recognize his face.

"Why are you crying?" Hector asked to break the silence. The look in her eyes made him uncomfortable, and he knew he should have returned to his father's side. However, Hector had been taught not to retreat without first exhausting all other options.

She clumsily wiped at her face with the back of her hands and smeared the tears further across her tan skin rather than fully wiping them away. "I'm not crying."

Hector smiled unexpectedly then at her poor lie, and he swiftly said, "Yes, you are. I can see the tears still on your face."

She sniffled and turned away from him to cross her arms over her chest as she asked in annoyance, "What do you know?"

"I know that you are upset," he answered. "Why?"

She huffed out a sigh and ducked her chin in to her collarbone. "My mother says I can't ride into the market with my brothers tomorrow."

Of course she could not accompany her brothers to Troy. For one thing, she was likely too young to make the ride without complaints and without aid, and for another, she was a girl. At such an age, she had no business in town, and she should have been taught her place long ago. Hector, however, could sympathize with wishing to do something but having a parent forbid it, and he swiftly decided it was not his place to lecture her on the proper virtues of a woman when he had so carelessly surprised her only moments earlier. "I live within the city walls," he offered instead.

"Why are you here?" she asked without realizing he had easily distracted her from the previous subject. She finally allowed her gaze to return to him, and her eyes were no longer filled with thick tears.

"My father wishes to show me all of Troad."

"Why?"

Hector straightened up proudly and squared his shoulders as he had seen the soldiers do when they addressed his father. "My father is Priam, king of Troy, and I will rule these lands when he dies."

The girl stood then in curiosity and approached him without fear. "You're lying," she accused.

"I would not," he assured her and couldn't refrain a frown from falling across his features in response to her doubt.

"Prove it," she swiftly challenged.

Hector glanced down at his royal blue robes, but the girl clearly did not understand their significance. He wondered if he should recount some of his lessons about valor, combat, and politics, but he doubted she would comprehend them considering she couldn't even understand why she wasn't allowed into Troy with her brothers. Ultimately he decided, "Follow me." The young prince then led the girl to the edge of the courtyard and pointed around the corner to where his father was still talking to the farmers. Priam enjoyed conversing with others even if it were with a few poor villagers. It was undoubtedly a useful characteristic as king. "That is my father and our guards."

The girl grew quiet and considered the royal party for several moments before asking, "How can I know that you are his son?"

Hector hadn't expected her to still doubt him, and he initially was unsure how to respond and actually convince her of his station. Once more, he considered his blue robes, but now he had an idea. "We both wear robes bearing the royal emblem," he said with a victorious grin as he pointed to the pin at his shoulder.

The girl leaned in to see it better and then reached out to examine it carefully until she seemed sufficiently satisfied with this proof. When she finally released the pin, she pushed her messy hair from her face as if to smooth it back and asked, "What is your name?"

The young prince stood proudly. "Hector. And yours?"

She tucked a piece of brown hair behind her ear and answered, "Myrina."

Impulsively, Hector removed one of the golden pins from the outer corner of his sleeve where it would not be missed and handed it to her. "Take it."

Myrina hesitated before handling the delicate pin between her fingers. "Why?" she wondered curiously as she peered up at him.

It was difficult for the young prince to explain why he felt compelled to give it to her, but he considered it an appropriate token to mark their unexpected encounter and new acquaintance. His father always received and gave gifts when he formed a new ally, and Hector followed suit as he thought it was only natural. He opened his mouth to explain this mental process, but at that moment, a tall guard appeared behind Hector and found the two children at the edge of the courtyard. His eyes swept across the scene, searching for clues as to what the pair had been up to, but he ultimately said, "My prince, your father calls for you." Hector bowed his head as he realized he had not acted in accordance with Priam's expectations, and he worried that he would disappoint his father when the guard explained where Hector had been. Swiftly, the prince turned without another word to the young girl and followed the guard back toward the royal party.

"Hector!" Myrina called out from behind him. He paused while considering whether he should answer her or continue forward. His curiosity got the better of him, and he peered over his shoulder at her. "Will you visit me again?" she asked when she found his gaze.

Hector smiled at the question and had the satisfaction of knowing that he had made a new acquaintance. "If you don't cry, I will," he promised though he had no way of keeping it. With the innocent mind of a child, however, he assured himself that he would remember her, and he would visit her one day when he could explore his lands without such a large party accompanying him. Perhaps they could be friends. When that would be, he was not certain, but he had meant what he had said. With that, he returned his attention to his father and hurried forward to meet the great king of Troy.