2 Years Ago: Orestes

Six years – that is how long Py and I have been best friends, and I love every day that we spend together. I wish that we could have been born brothers because we were definitely made for each other. I don’t mean to say that we are similar, although we are in many ways. But in many others, I think we complement each other with our differences. I was often too reserved, and it would always be Py who pushed me out of my comfort zone to try out new things. Our adventures as boys didn’t always end well, for some of them ended with bleeding knees or broken bones. But most of them were worth it, and those memories I shall forever cherish.

On his part, prudence has accompanied Py with age, but he is still in many ways the daring and blusterous kid that he was, and I was always there to hold him back when he wanted to go too far. In hindsight, I sometimes wonder if I have been holding him back too much. Indeed, I have been finding myself filled more and more with doubt in recent years. I mean, Py has got a future ahead of him as the direct successor to his father. And what did I have? Officially, I was the heir to Argos; but in reality, I am living in self-imposed exile from mother. The Trojan war has dragged on for eight years now and there is no sign that it will end. Even if it does, I am not sure father would survive whatever mother has planned when he returns, if he returns.

We, Py and I, we never talked about the conversation he had with his mother years ago in that room about my cursed ancestors. Yet I do often wonder if he thinks about it, and if he will hold true to the childish promise that he made all those years ago. Sure, honor and friendship is important, but why would anyone thinking straight ever want to get involved with my fucked up family? Why would anyone want to have anything to do with me? There are moments throughout our years where Py and I would just look at each other intensely. I have no idea what goes on in his head all those times. Maybe he is regretting his decision to be with a man who has no future and needed to silently reaffirm with himself his promise.

On my part, I try to live up to his friendship. I made sure that I was always there for him when he felt down, or to give him space when he needed it. It felt like caring for a much younger brother at times since Py can act childish when he is angry to sad, even though we are roughly the same age. It good that he is more mature now, but I missed the times where I would tend to him and offer him all the support that he needed.

We also saw Py’s father, king Strophius, more often now. At sixteen, we were both officially men and no longer boys, even though we still felt like boys when with each other. The king would often call us both to council meetings, and we would sit in dinner with vising kings, queens, or diplomats. I sat beside Py, and was allowed to speak as I wished, though I was more often than not happy to be silent and listen to the words of the men around us. By my silence, some men would have taken me for one who was weak of mind, but both Py and the king knew better, for I made sure to share my opinions when these formal occasions were over.

After all the other people were gone, we would sit with Py’s father by the fire and either listened to a lecture by him, or discussed the topics that occurred at the table. One such discussion occurred after the old king told us about the time that the late Athenian king Theseus declared war against Thebes after the Thebans refused to bury the dead of their enemies. This was usually against the rules of war for the souls of the unburied dead were doomed to forever wander the world of the living, and never to find rest in the gardens of Hades. The Thebans fought against Thebans, and they thought traitors were unworthy of an end in the afterlife; the just Theseus disagreed and so waged war against Thebes in the name of Justice. When the seven gates of Thebes fell, Theseus forbid his army to raid the city, but instead only asked that the Thebans bury all the dead, which they did.

“Why then, do we have rules of war, and why do we follow them?” The old king asked.

“We have them out of tradition, and we follow them so as not to draw the wrath of our fellow man and the gods,” Py answered. It was technically correct, I guess, but I didn’t like it. The king seemed to agree.

“That is true, but perhaps there is a reason more fundamental?”

“So that peace is possible,” I blurted out. The king and Py looked at me, urging me to continue.

“War,” I said hesitantly, but then with more confidence “war is but one of many ways to resolve a problem or a disagreement. Diplomacy and charm should be tried first, and war as a last resort, for the risk of losing is always great. War by itself is never the goal, it is but a means to an end.

Yet, a peaceful end can never come if we do not treat our enemies with dignity, respect, and honor. For even when the fighting end, the daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, mothers, and fathers of the deceased shall forever look at us with hatred and spite, there will never be peace, but only more bloodshed in future generations.

The laws of war reflects the basic dignity that should be afforded to persons even during time of conflict, they are universal values that we hold dear so to preserve our humanity. And it is only by preserving our humanity that we can become brothers in peace with those who were once our most hated enemies.”

Py looked impressed by my speech, and the old king smiled. “Well spoken,” he said, “that was the answer that I was looking for.”

For the rest of the night, we talked about what should be just conduct even in times of conflict, and why honor was important even to those whose life hand by but a thread. Though I did not agree with all that the king said, I do find myself acknowledge that the just and the right should always come before the easy and the convenient, and that he who harms another without cause harms himself more. For our bodies are fleeting in this world; we are born from the Earth, and to the Earth we will one day return. Pain and scars will only afflict our bodies for so long. Yet our soul is immortal; a stain on the soul caused by an evil act is hard to wash clean, and is a burden that we take with us forever into Hades.

A few months later, we had a fight. It was over something stupid that I could not even remember properly; I think it was about the correct solution to a geometry problem. I thought that my solution made perfect sense but so did Py think his. He kept insisting that I was wrong, and I called him stupid. He objected and asked me how I messed up my last geometry exam so much, I told him that he cared so much about geometry because he needed to compensate for his lackluster performance on the training fields. Then he asked me why I never slept around with any of the girls and if I trained so hard at the sword because my other sword wasn’t working properly, and that if I was quick on my feet then I was probably also quick at something else.

Now, I know that all my tools work perfectly fine, but I was also extremely insecure about the fact that I just didn’t want anybody. Sure, I could appreciate aesthetically the body of a man or woman, but I never seemed to feel the lust that all the other boys did. Also, I felt a love stronger than anything for Py, but that didn’t mean I wanted him physically. All this was confusing, and I was scared about how different I was.

I remember storming out of the room, and actively trying to avoid Py for the rest of the day. But when night came I began walking towards his room. More often than not, I now slept in Py’s room, I wasn’t even sure how it started. It did raise a few eyebrows around the palace, but I didn’t care. Nothing happened between us on bed, and I don’t think anything ever will. We were just two buddies who wanted to be close to each other. That day, however, I wasn’t sure that he wanted to see me.

I knocked and he called me in. “Hey,” he said, in greeting.

“Hey,” I responded. We then tried to have a casual conversation, but it really didn’t work since there were too many awkward silences.

“There is something I need to tell you…” Py started. My heart sped up, and all my insecurities about my situation, my family, and myself started flooding into my head. I feared that Py was going to tell me how we probably shouldn’t be as close now that we are adults, and imagined how lonely life was to be without him.

“Listen, Py,” I said, interrupting him, “you are my best-friend and …”

‘No,” he said. I can feel my blood freezing, it is as if my worst fears were coming true and I could feel water coming to my eyes. I haven’t cried in the last six years ever since I left my sister, but now all those emotions are coming back again. He must have seen my expression, because he quickly amended what he was going to say.

“I don’t mean we are not friends Ere, I meant that…” he swallowed, “I meant that I think we should be something more Ere, I want more of you and…” his voice ended in a whimper.

I stared at him, thinking about what he could mean, then it popped into my head.

“Brothers?” I asked. His face looked confused for a second and I worried if I have said the wrong thing. Then he started looking resigned, and after that he forced a smile.

“Sure,” He said. I wasn’t that sure if it’s what he wanted, but I was in a selfish mood right now, and I was as sure as anything that I did not want to lose this man from my life.

I dragged him out of bed, and found a hunting knife in the corner of the room. “Blood oath,” I said, “you and me, brothers.”

He hesitates and for a second I thought he was going to say no. But he proved me wrong, walked towards me, took the knife from my hand, and made a small cut on his palms. I did the same, and when our palms pressed together, we both swore that sacred oath:

“I swear, upon my immortal soul, till the day that the river Styx wipes all my memories, that I shall be brother to this man. I shall stand by him in times good or otherwise, be his shield and sword when necessary, and hold a bond of loyalty stronger than stone and iron. Let the blood of this covenant be thicker than the water of the mother’s womb. May Apollo, the god of truth, witness my words true. If I were to ever betray this promise may Zeus strike me dead with his vengeful bolt and the furies chase my soul to Hades where I face eternal torment.”

When we let go of each other, we were both smiling like fools. I loved that moment, and wished that we could have dwelled there forever.