Thetis’s face shifted subtly, her amusement giving way to mild confusion. “She didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” I asked, my unease growing.
Her reaction surprised me. For the first time, Thetis looked genuinely taken aback. Her usually composed demeanor faltered as she seemed to grapple with an internal conflict. After a long pause, during which she seemed to weigh the consequences of her next words, she finally spoke.
“Khillea,” she began, her voice quieter but no less firm, “is Achilles.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and charged, their impact immediate and undeniable. My breath caught, and a sudden silence enveloped the space as her revelation sank in.
Achilles.
I stared at her, my mind reeling. Every interaction I’d had with Khillea, every word, every glance—it all rushed back to me, tinged now with a deeper, more profound significance.
Thetis watched me closely, gauging my reaction. Her gaze was sharp, yet there was an undercurrent of something else—concern, perhaps? Or maybe it was expectation.
“Achilles,” I repeated softly, the name feeling foreign and familiar all at once as it rolled off my tongue.
“Yes,” Thetis said simply, her voice steady. “The one and only.”
“But… Achilles is a man?” I muttered, my voice trailing off in disbelief as my thoughts raced.
Thetis, her serene expression betraying a hint of curiosity, tilted her head slightly and regarded me with her piercing gaze. “Did you meet Achilles up close?” she asked, her tone calm yet probing.
“No, not up close,” I admitted, the memories surfacing in fragmented flashes. “I saw Achilles from afar…” I paused, a wave of realization beginning to dawn on me. Each time I had glimpsed Achilles, the warrior had been clad head-to-toe in a full suit of armor, concealing their form entirely. At the time, I’d assumed the resemblance to Khillea was simply a sibling similarity. But now…
“I don’t understand,” I murmured, my brows furrowing as I grappled with the implications. “Achilles should be a man,” I added, the myths I had learned on Earth echoing in my mind. Every tale, every depiction, had painted Achilles as the archetypal male hero—strong, brave, and unyielding. Until now, every character I had encountered seemed to align with those ancient stories. Why would Achilles be any different?
“Should be?” Thetis repeated, her voice laced with confusion.
Realizing I had spoken too freely, I quickly shook my head. “No, I’m just… lost,” I replied, my words evasive, as I tried to reconcile the contradiction between myth and reality.
Thetis sighed, a soft yet weary sound, and her gaze grew distant for a moment as if she were sifting through her own memories. “It’s understandable,” she said finally. “That foolish daughter of mine… I would have thought she’d tell you the truth, given that you are her first man and seem so close.”
Her words struck me like a thunderclap. I fell silent, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. My mind replayed every interaction I’d had with Achilles—or rather, with Khillea.
Thetis’ revelation explained so much. Why I had never seen Achilles and Khillea together. Why Achilles had directed me, with an almost unsettling ease, to “spend the night” with Khillea, his supposed sister. It was because they were not two separate people. They were one and the same.
“I raised her as my daughter,” Thetis began, her tone steady but tinged with a faint sadness. “Both my husband and I did. But in the Achaeans’ world, men hold the reins of power. A ruling queen, especially one leading warriors, would never be accepted by their rigid traditions.”
She paused, her gaze fixed on me, as if gauging my understanding. “Khillea, even as a child, possessed a strength and boldness that surpassed most men. She made the choice early on to conceal her true identity, knowing it was the only way to attain the status and respect she holds today. Only a select few know the truth—among the Greeks, only Patroclus knows. And now, you.”
I stared at Thetis, the weight of her words settling over me like a heavy shroud. Khillea’s secret was both staggering and strangely fitting. She had always carried herself with a fierce determination, a presence that commanded attention and respect.
But something still gnawed at me. “There’s something I don’t understand,” I said after a moment. “She seemed… desperate, almost, to have a child. Why? Why the urgency?”
Thetis nodded solemnly, her expression darkening. “Before Khillea left home, I received a prophecy,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “It foretold that if Khillea joined the Trojan War, she would never return. She would meet her death on the battlefield, without a child to carry on her legacy.”
Her words sent a chill down my spine. My eyes widened as the gravity of the prophecy sank in.
“At first, Khillea didn’t care,” Thetis continued. “The promise of eternal glory was all she desired. She believed that was enough. But as the years went by, perhaps she began to feel a yearning for something more—something beyond glory. Something that would outlast even her name in the annals of history. And that… was a child.”
Thetis’ gaze softened as she looked at me. “Despite the prophecy, she tried. And against all odds, she succeeded. You,” she said, her voice filled with both pride and sorrow, “you are that miracle.”
“Then the reason she wants to leave the child’s raising to you is because…” My voice trailed off, though the answer was already clear to me.
Thetis nodded solemnly, her expression unreadable but heavy with emotion. “Yes,” she confirmed. “She has accepted her death. After giving birth, she plans to fight again. She is merely waiting for Agamemnon to come crawling back, begging her to rejoin the battle.”
Her words struck me like a hammer to the chest. “Why… why is she so obsessed with dying?” I demanded, my frustration boiling over. “Why does she cling so desperately to this war?”
Thetis sighed, her gaze distant as though she were looking far beyond me. “Glory,” she said simply. “But more than that, she desires acknowledgment. At the war’s end, she wants to be remembered not just as a warrior but as a woman who conquered Troy. A woman who surpassed even the greatest of the Greek kings.”
She paused, her voice softening as the weight of the prophecy returned to her words. “And the prophecy predicts exactly that. She will achieve her goal, but only at the cost of her life.”
My hands clenched into fists at her words. Khillea’s voice echoed in my mind, the memory of her plea cutting deep.
“How about you come with me?”
“I just want you to stay with me… until the end. Until the war ends.”
It had all been for this, then. Every word, every glance, every touch—it had all been spoken with the knowledge that she was preparing herself for death.
I felt my chest tighten as anger, frustration, and a strange sorrow flooded me.
“I won’t,” I said, my voice firmer than I expected. I raised my gaze to Thetis, meeting her eyes. “I won’t let her die.”
Thetis blinked, surprised by the resolve in my tone. She opened her mouth, perhaps to protest, but then closed it as she studied me. A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t want her to die either,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But you won’t be able to convince her. She doesn’t listen anymore. Not to me, not to anyone.”
“Then I’ll force her to listen,” I replied, my voice cold and absolute.
Thetis frowned, her serene composure cracking ever so slightly. “Force her?” she echoed, her tone skeptical and laced with concern.
I didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I reached for the ring on my index finger, the one I had worn for so long to keep my true strength hidden.
There was no point in concealing it from Thetis any longer.
She cared about one thing above all else—her daughter. And I would trust in that love now.
With a sharp motion, I removed the ring.
BADAAAAM!
The air around us exploded with raw power, waves of energy rippling outward and shaking even the confines of Thetis’s dimensional space. The atmosphere grew heavy, almost suffocating, as my suppressed strength surged forth in a torrent of unchecked force.
Thetis’s eyes widened in shock, her composure finally shattering as she stared at me.
My skin had turned a shade of alabaster white, flawless and smooth, reminiscent of Khione’s own ethereal complexion. My hair, now a pure, shimmering snow white, lifted slightly in the energy surrounding me, as if caught in an unseen breeze.
And my eyes—one glowed with an icy blue, piercing and cold, embodying the essence of Khione herself. The other burned with a dark gold hue, a demonic slit cutting through its center like a predator’s gaze.
I was utterly transformed, my strength magnified beyond anything I had shown before. To anyone else, I would have seemed like an entirely different being—a force of nature, unrecognizable and terrifying.