( video )

[heelies]

[The video feed begins on a close view of a face, revealing a stern set of eyes and a curve of nose but little more. Then the picture shakes as a new perspective is gained. The man who comes into view posesses a princely bearing and wears well the mantle of importance. His voice belongs to one who is accustomed to being listened to.]

I am told that this is the way that men call others to counsel in this land, and so as strange as it seems to me to address those whom I see not, I shall follow the local custom. I am Achilles, son of Peleus — Peleus who rules the fertile plains of Phthia, and who claims for his own worthy father Aeacus, judge of the House of Hades. New as I am to this land, which is farther from my dear native land than even the windy plains of Ilios, I bear many questions, but the first in my heart is this.

What deathless gods watch over the city of Lunatia? I have seen no temples built to honor Zeus who bears the aegis, nor bright-eyed Athena, nor Phoebus Apollo. Where are the priests who aid in the rituals of sacrifice, the seers who interpret the will of the gods in bird-signs? Surely, a city so rich as this, with precious silver trimming its houses, and all manner of riches I have never before seen — surely its people have the benison of the gods. Yet I see no practices that would suggest such reverence. Tell me, therefore, the ways to honor these gods who to me are so mysterious.

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[distort]

[ her selfie cam is flawless, with the perfect angle and moody lighting that leaves her cast half in shadow ... and looking kind of blue?! must be a trick of the light. either way, she looks ever so slightly amused. ]

Achilles. Are you really? Now there is a face to meet in a strange crossroads like this.

[heelies]

What reason have I to lie about my name? The Achilles you must have heard of in story and song, that man is me. To know that my name has traveled so far, it puts me at peace and makes proud my heart.

[distort]

Well, let's not get too ahead of ourselves. A glaring weakness is an embarrassing legacy, I would say.

[heelies]

What mean you, a glaring weakness? I know not of what you speak! I am lauded as the best of the Achaeans — even wide-ruling Agamemnon cannot dispute this. Therefore, you had better speak outright.

[distort]

Is it true, about the heel?

[heelies]

My heel? I know no particular secret about my heel.

[Bemusement twists his voice. Whatever else Achilles may be, he is honest.]

[distort]

How interesting. If it isn't true, then this is an entirely different kind of embarrassing for you.

[heelies]

Will you tell me what it is that you muse upon with twisting words, revealing but little and hiding far more? I have no patience with this.

[distort]

[ she smiles; clearly, delivering this bit of news is the brightest point of her day so far. ]

They said Achilles was invulnerable everywhere but his heel, and struck down by an arrow to it. A silly story, I always thought. But an Achilles' heel, to mean a vulnerable point, has lasted.

[heelies]

What an insult this is! Surely I must be remembered for more than the manner of my death. What of all the horse-taming Trojans I slew, all the royal sons I robbed from Priam, sending down to the house of death so many sturdy souls? What of the revenge I won from murderous Hector, chasing him three time round the walls of Troy before I let fly my long-shadowed spear?

[distort]

[ ah, this is the good shit. she just listens with a smile, nodding slightly. ]

Mm, yes ... no, mon loulou, I cannot say any of this survived the ages. Only the heel.

[heelies]

I have spoken to others in this land who know my name and deeds. This was the fate I chose when against my mother's wishes I donned armor and followed the sons of Atreus to Dardanus' land in the fifty beaked ships Peleus gave me — a life cut short by war, but glory that would endure.

[distort]

To say it kindly, those others, I am sure, read more historical texts than any average person.

[ they're fuckin nerds, all of them ]

[heelies]

Then you lied when you claimed that tales of my deeds did not survive the ages! Vexing woman!

Although why it should be written as if nothing more than a storeroom record, rather than sung by bards, seems strange to me.

[distort]

Ah, perhaps. It did not seem worthy of mentioning.

But make no mistake, there are no bards singing about it.

[heelies]

What is this? No bards? Then who passes stories from one generation of men to the next, weaving all together in a tapestry of kings and heroes, deathless gods and unconquerable Fate?

[distort]

[ he's got the right idea, technically, but she's not here for a lesson in changing technology. instead: ] Did I say no bards, monsieur? Non, I said there is no singing. The heel does not make for a very good song.

[heelies]

Then if none will sing, how are any stories told at all?

[distort]

[ SIGH, some people just don't appreciate a good mocking. ]

Ask for a history lesson from someone with more patience to spare.

[heelies]

You do wear thin mine own patience! Such insolence I have never known from the gentler sex.

[distort]

But we have only just begun, monsieur. [ She smiles. ] You will know quite a bit more here than what you're used to, I am sure.

[heelies]

Indeed, it is to my dismay that the ways of the war-loving Achaeans are known not in this land. I am made all the more a stranger.