Helen Of Troy

Warning: May contain obscene language.

The face that launched a thousand ships. That is how they know of me after so many years. They call me a faithless wife, an ignorant slut for following the damned prince of Troy, saying that I abandoned my husband and child for a whimsical romance that burned a city. They blame me for their killed men, their lost treasures.

I know I am innocent. Still, after four millennia spent in the Fields of Punishment, nobody seems to acknowledge it. Paris, on the other hand, was much luckier. He was able to get into Elysium, with the help of Apollo, of course. Because if there wasn’t divine intervention, I am absolutely sure that he is supposed to be rotting beside me.

My life, or rather, death, is pretty much simple. A manifestation of a spirit resembling Paris comes to murder me every day. But I’m already used to it. I don’t care that he killed my reputation as well as he kills this shade of mine every day. When I’m not being stabbed in the stomach, shot in my chest, or suffocated to death, I am free to roam the fields, and am allowed to stand at the very edge of the lands.

Why don’t you just run, then? Escape the punishments? Because the gods are not idiots, my dear child. There are barriers set all over the place, and if one did manage to get away, the Kindly Ones would just get them back one way or another. There were people hauled back, their limbs severed. But the Furies don’t mind. Their job was not handling a daycare center; they were jailers keeping in the criminals. Plus, no one would care happened to the escapees anyway.

Ah, that reminds me of the times when I was the supposed escapee. They told you I ran off with Paris when he came to Sparta, no? They had told my husband Menelaus that I was unworthy of trust, and my daughter Hermione I was devoid of motherly love. I am here to tell you my story myself, since I am certain you are weary of my rantings. And so here it goes:

Menelaus was off on his political voyages, once again. I was left in charge of the Spartan court, and rumor had spread that a prince of Troy had come to our shores, and that he is praying in one of our temples. Of course, being the curious woman I am, I snuck to the temple in disguise, hoping to know of him before our official meeting. I wanted to know who he was, for there was no reason, at least not yet for him to come to Sparta, as far as I knew.

I had approached him, asked him who he was and why he was here. His head was bowed at first, but as soon as he had lifted his head, his eyes had seemed off. I took a step back. His pupils were dilated, his eyes glazed over. It was like he had been hit by a love spell, a strong one, one that could’ve been from the goddess Aphrodite herself. I can now confirm that it was indeed the work of Aphrodite then, but back then, I knew nothing. He had taken only one look at me, before he asked me to run away with him. I said no.

I had thought that was the end of it. When he came to court the next day, he would just act like it was normal, like nothing ever happened at the temple. And he did, too. Things would’ve turned out fine if they just went the way it was supposed to be. Yet in the middle of his visit next day, I found something in my heart that was tainted and impure; I had fallen madly in love with the prince. I had no control, at least, no control under a sober mind: I was wildly drunk on the wine they call love. I did not call it love. I called it a curse, a curse that killed thousands upon thousands of my brothers and sisters, my fathers and mothers, my sons and daughters. And it is a burden that I did not wish to bear.

Most of you know that I snuck out with him that very night, leaving my family behind. Our ship had set course straight for Troy, and it was too late next morning for my people to come and follow us themselves.

It was when we set foot on Troy did I escape that horrible, horrible enchantment. I found myself clinging to a foreign man on foreign shores and I had wanted to puke, even wanted to drown myself in the waves back then. Paris, however, did not seem to change much, though the unusual light in his eyes had disappeared. He held me tightly as if I was his, as if I was always meant to belong to him only. I despised him from that day on.

When my husband and my people, my friends and my neighbors came for me, I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream for them to save me from this hellish prison and release me from the clutches of the foreign prince. But when they saw me, I had only seen hatred and disgust, mixed with anger that not even the gods could contain. That was when I realized that no one truly loved me anymore. My husband came for me, yes, but if you looked even more closely you could see the bloodlust, the greed, and the want for victory and fame that lay behind his mask of revenge.

So I drew myself away, far, far, away from the stuff of politics and war. I found a friendship with the shunned priestess Cassandra; she is a wise soul beyond her years, and I am proud to call myself her fellow sister. Her story is a tragedy, one that I do not wish to see it repeat itself upon another, but I will not tell you today, for it is her own decision if she wishes to share it.

So now you know of how my story came to be—it was written by the hands of the victor, who had decided to paint me in such light: an unfaithful and silly wife. I had despised their souls and spirits through and through for centuries, but over time, I realized it was worth naught hating them, for there was no point. They were happy and in Elysium, and there was nothing for me to do about it.

But now, my afterlife is much better. I have recently been offered by the goddess Makaria another chance at Elysium or if I wish, rebirth. I was shocked, like any other who would’ve been if they had stayed within the Fields of Punishment for millennia. I asked for who gave me the chance and why, but she only smiled secretively. She told me that it was a secret that I should seek the answer to. And that is why, I have chosen rebirth.

Tomorrow I will give the goddess my answer, but for now, I will try to remember the mistakes I have made in my former life, and hope not to retread any of the paths again.

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A/N:

Hey readers and friends and y'all! I know that some of you may be thinking, what the hell is this girl writing? Helen's supposed to end up in Elysium! and probably other sorts of things that aren't canon. So, umm, I may have made it different from the myths on purpose *nervous sweating* , because I think it gives off a different kind of vibe that makes it more dramatic. (Basically, it's easier for me to write)