➜Ichor originates from Greek mythology, where it is the "ethereal fluid" that is the blood of the Greek gods, sometimes said to retain the qualities of the food and drink of the immortals, ambrosia, and nectar. Ichor is described as toxic to humans...
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• the goddess has been appeased •
【chapter two: sacrifices 】
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The marketplace of Aulis was set up for the farce of the wedding between Achilles and King Agamemnon's daughter Iphigenia.
Achilles' mother Thetis had claimed that the lack of wind that prevented the army from sailing for Troy was caused by the Gods. Agamemnon had then spoken to the chief priest, Calchas, who proclaimed that they had offended the Goddess of the Moon, Artemis. And the only way to satiate her was to offer a sacrifice.
It was not an animal that was to be sacrificed but a young maiden, a virgin. Agamemnon with much hesitation and at the urging of Oddyseus agreed to call his oldest daughter Iphigenia, who is also a priestess of Artemis to be brought under the guise of marrying her to Achilles.
Not that the demigod himself was aware of the fact. Despite, his hesitation to marry and leave his lover Patroclus, Achilles agreed at Patroclus' urging that it would help his prestige and he would be able to become closer to the Mycenean King.
While Achilles agreed to this wedding it did not mean that it hurt him less when Patroclus helped him to get ready for his own wedding.
"Achilles," Patroclus sighed, his voice deep and soothing as the man busied himself with Achilles' ceremonial robes. "Do not be so desolate. It looks like you are going to a funeral instead of your own wedding." He attempted to joke, but Achilles remained silent. His intense green eyes strayed at Patroclus' figure.
"Does it not bother you?" Achilles asked, he gripped Patroclus' hand and pulled the shorter and lithe man into his chest. "I am to be married off to another woman. Does it not hurt your soul, your heart that I am to become another's husband?" He asked, his voice rumbling deep in his chest, pain laced his tone as he stared at the man he loved.
Patroclus sighed again, as he looked up, his eyes dark as the raven's wing, gleamed with tears as he smoothed Achilles' robes. "It hurts, my love." He admitted softly and slowly. "It feels as if my whole being is being torn apart. My heart feels heavy, it seems the world is robbed of its beauty. But alas, my love, I am powerless in front of the will of the gods."
Achilles growled in frustration, "The will of the gods does not matter. Our love is stronger than it. Say the word, my love and I will break this wedding off."
"You will not do such a thing," Patroclus said fiercely. "You would not risk the wrath of Agamemnon."
"You care for the bastard king more than our love?" Achilles asked in scorn and hurt.
