Aeneid a Hero!

The air in the narrow shaft was cool, damp, and musty as Aeneas crawled forward, surrounded by nothing but pitch-black darkness.

Damn it, I can’t see a thing. And this tunnel just keeps getting narrower…

He paused briefly as he felt cold water seeping through the stone in places, trickling toward him.

“What even is this place? Some kind of overflow channel from the cistern, maybe? If I follow it, I should... krrch-hh...”

He broke off, coughing and sputtering.

“Ugh… gah… were those cobwebs?! Gross, I think I swallowed some…”

With his lips pressed together in disgust, he kept crawling until he couldn’t go any farther.

Hm… looks like a dead end.

He felt around until his hand brushed against something solid overhead.

A stone slab…

Groaning, he pushed against it. At first, it wouldn’t budge, but then, with a dull grinding sound, it shifted.

Bit by bit, he forced it aside until the opening was just wide enough for him to squeeze through.

Cold air rushed over him as he pulled himself up and collapsed onto the smooth marble floor.

“Made it…”

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet.

“But… where am I?”

From somewhere above, a faint, flickering light spilled into the dark chamber.

The heavy scent of incense and myrrh hung in the air, and the room was filled with censers, offering vessels, and votive gifts.

Looks like some kind of temple storeroom.

Suddenly, he heard muffled footsteps beyond the door, followed by voices.

Carefully, he cracked it open just a sliver and peered outside.

“…And you truly believe she will agree to the marriage?” asked an older man with a long gray beard, clad in the robes of a priest of Baal.

“No. And she isn’t meant to,” his companion replied with calm confidence.

Wait... that’s the chamberlain! With a priest?

“If the rumor of her consent turns out to be false and the city finds itself on the brink of war, the people will panic and crave someone to take action, not some wavering girl…” Reganobal continued. “And when that happens… a council of the leading families will take control.”

Aeneas’ jaw dropped.

A coup attempt?! So that’s what’s going on here!

His eyes darted as he tried to process everything.

So Dido didn’t cast me aside at all! This damned advisor of hers is behind everything!

A flicker of relief washed over him, before he caught himself and clenched his fists in anger.

“And the queen? You can’t keep her locked up here forever,“ the priest asked, frowning.

He tilted his head toward the far end of the antechamber, where two burly guards stood watch before the entrance to the sanctuary of Baal.

Aeneas followed the gesture.

So that’s where they’re holding her…

“Don’t worry. I’ve already done enough to ensure that her competence is openly questioned by the people. Once the deadline passes, she will be seen as the one who brought us to this point, and they will be desperate for a change in power. By the time she is released, it will already be too late for her, and she will be nothing more than a peace offering we can hand over to the Gaetulians without hassle.”

He sighed, almost wistfully.

“I trusted in her foresight… for a long time. At first, I didn’t want to see it myself,” Reganobal said calmly. “But someone opened my eyes.”

The priest chuckled softly.

“I must say, dear Reganobal, I'd never have expected you capable of such a devious scheme.”

He gave the chamberlain an approving pat on the shoulder, and the latter nodded, visibly reliefed.

“That this Berber king appeared at just the right moment with his bedchamber gossip… truly a gift from the gods. It made our task considerably easier…”

The priest raised an eyebrow.

“So you believe… this Iarbas spoke the truth?”

The chamberlain shrugged.

“Who can say? But given the way the queen has been behaving around that… Trojan lately, I wouldn’t put such indecency past her…”

Aeneas clenched his teeth, his whole body tensing.

Oh, you miserable old...

Suddenly, his hand slipped from the door.

“Wha-?! Who’s there?!” Reganobal shouted, spinning around, then froze, eyes widening in shock. “But that’s… the Trojan?!”

For a fraction of a second, uncertainty flickered across Aeneas’ face.

“Y-your… your game is over, Reginald! Release Queen Dido at once!”

“My name is Reganobal!” the chamberlain snapped, while the old priest quietly slipped away. “And I believe you misunderstand the situation you’re in, Trojan…”

He turned to his henchmen, who were still guarding the sanctuary.

“Get over here and deal with him! Now!”

A chill ran down Aeneas’ spine as the uncertainty crept back into him.

Trembling, he reached for the hilt of his sword.

“S-stay back! I… I don’t want to fight you!”

But the two guards stepped forward regardless, swords in hand, ready to carry out their master’s orders.

“D-do you even know who I am? A hero of the Trojan War! Y-you really want to test yourselves against me?!”

Only now did the men exchange uncertain glances and hesitate for a moment.

“He’s bluffing!” Reganobal called from behind. “Just look at him! He’s a fraud who’s scared out of his wits! No way this… boy… could best you.”

Aeneas swallowed as the men advanced again.

Guess there’s no other way...

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the blade slowly slid from its sheath with a scraping sound.

Shiiing.

His memory drifted back to one of the few times he had heard that sound before:

On the dusty plains before the walls of Troy.

🏛️🏛️🏛️

Screams everywhere.

Blood everywhere.

Death everywhere.

I don’t want this.

“AENEAS! WATCH OUT!”

A spear whistled past his cheek, slamming into the ground with a heavy thud.

Aeneas reflexively raised his shield, blocking the strike that followed.

Another blow.

Another.

Another.

Under the relentless assault, his knees buckled, until he finally collapsed to the ground.

I don’t want this.

The radiant sun of Troy emblazoned on his shield splintered and faded, breaking apart until it was no longer recognizable.

Through the shadow of his crumbling defense, he caught glimpses of the battlefield around him.

Bodies fell in rows. Dust and sand swirled everywhere.

What are we even fighting for? H-how did it come to this?

He saw Coroebus raise his sword arm, parry a strike, then kick his opponent to the ground.

He saw Ripheus holding off several Achaeans at once a short distance away.

And then he saw Panthus.

On the ground. Bleeding.

His arms spread wide in helpless anticipation of the end, as the tip of a spear hovered at his throat, ready for the final thrust.

He saw the fear in his eyes.

The confusion of an unanswered question.

Why?

The regret for the youth that had been stolen from him.

Aeneas flinched.

And something inside him… gave way.

I don’t want this…

But...

Another blow came crashing down on his shield.

But this time, it cut through empty air.

Shiiing.

Aeneas’ sword shot upward as he rolled aside, striking his opponent and sending him to the ground.

A heartbeat later, he was back on his feet, charging forward, knocking the attacker aside before the spear could reach Panthus.

He reached out a hand to his comrade, who stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then grasped it with a faint smile and let himself be pulled up.

“Th-thank you…”

His gaze lingered on Aeneas.

Overwhelmed, he saw him pick up his helmet from the ground and place it neatly on his head, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“A-Aeneas? You look… different somehow…”

He didn’t answer.

His blue eyes were hidden in the shadow of his helmet, but the resolve on his face was unmistakable.

The next wave of attacking Achaeans rushed towards them, and his body moved before he could think.

He spun, dodged blows, kicked shields, struck helmets.

Every strike landed. Not perfectly, but fast enough. He didn’t feel strong. Just unable to stop.

When his companions saw him, Coroebus was the first to raise his sword toward Aeneas.

“FORWARD, MEN! FOR TROY!”

“FOR TROY!” came the answering roar, as they rushed forward with their brother-in-arms against the invaders.

🏛️🏛️🏛️

The echo of that battle cry lingered in Aeneas’ mind for a while as he slid his sword back into its sheath.

Shiiing.

The hardened expression faded from his face, the shadow leaving his eyes, as he looked at the two guards lying motionless in the dirt before him.

Then his gaze shifted back to Reganobal, who stared at him wide-eyed, mouth agape.

“…Would you be so kind as to release Dido... uh, I mean, the queen... now?” Aeneas said almost casually, before adding with obvious discomfort:

“A-and please stop gawking at me like that…”