[As she leafs through the photo album, his eyes linger over the faces that have grown familiar to him, remembering as they flutter by how he had honed his magic craft under Urahara, how he had danced with Sonia at the winter ball, how Asher had kept watch over him in the wake of Patroclus' death, how he had shared a life in miniature with Olivia. He accepts the photo, slowly tracing with his finger the figures of those present, Patroclus first, then Sieglinde, as if by doing so he might receive some essence of them that shall be stored within his skin, his bones, his heart. When he speaks, he murmurs softly.]
Thank you - this I shall count among my greatest treasures. How astonished my friends among the Achaeans shall be when they see how true to life the picture is!
[After a moment more of gazing upon it, he carefully tucks the photograph into the broad belt that girds his tunic.]
I had meant to wait until after our meal before bestowing upon you this small token of kinship, but perhaps now is the time.
[So speaking, he produces from the folds of fabric what appears to be a bundle of paper rolled together in a sort of scroll, which he offers to Sieglinde. Once she unfurls the pages, she will find first a note written in Achilles' own careful and upright hand: side by side stand the English words, Strength Wisdom Courage, and below, Achilles. The next several pages are cut neatly from the book of lore gold-clad Gilgamesh had once gifted him: here is the story of Achilles.
The beautifully illustrated pages tell of his boyhood in Phthia and his education upon sacred Mount Pelion; of his two-fold fate, the impending war that would doom him, and his hiding place on Scyros; of his setting sail and all his trials and tribulations en route to Troy; and of his heroic deeds in the bloody jaws of battle, ending where all stories end, with his death. Tucked between the moments of glory are the quieter moments, as shadow follows brilliant light: his friendship with Patroclus, his love for the forsaken Deidamia, his compassion for the doomed Iphigenia, his cutting sorrow for his dear companion's death. He has been godlike, at once more than human and less than human, but he has too been simply human.]
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Thank you - this I shall count among my greatest treasures. How astonished my friends among the Achaeans shall be when they see how true to life the picture is!
[After a moment more of gazing upon it, he carefully tucks the photograph into the broad belt that girds his tunic.]
I had meant to wait until after our meal before bestowing upon you this small token of kinship, but perhaps now is the time.
[So speaking, he produces from the folds of fabric what appears to be a bundle of paper rolled together in a sort of scroll, which he offers to Sieglinde. Once she unfurls the pages, she will find first a note written in Achilles' own careful and upright hand: side by side stand the English words, Strength Wisdom Courage, and below, Achilles. The next several pages are cut neatly from the book of lore gold-clad Gilgamesh had once gifted him: here is the story of Achilles.
The beautifully illustrated pages tell of his boyhood in Phthia and his education upon sacred Mount Pelion; of his two-fold fate, the impending war that would doom him, and his hiding place on Scyros; of his setting sail and all his trials and tribulations en route to Troy; and of his heroic deeds in the bloody jaws of battle, ending where all stories end, with his death. Tucked between the moments of glory are the quieter moments, as shadow follows brilliant light: his friendship with Patroclus, his love for the forsaken Deidamia, his compassion for the doomed Iphigenia, his cutting sorrow for his dear companion's death. He has been godlike, at once more than human and less than human, but he has too been simply human.]