Quoted By:
There is motion in Hector’s spear, after all. How many eons have you spent here without noticing it? The subtlest rotation of its polished spearhead; the shine of the oak rippling by the smallest of margins.
And then you see them, exiting Paris’ apartment, as if nothing was strange at all. They stride closer - it is Lord Antenor, his wife, Theano, and their daughter, Crino. They are dressed richly, as they were during the feast two nights ago - two lifetimes ago.
But of course - that is not who they are.
They stop to regard Hector - Theano speaks, but you cannot hear her clearly. The sound of silk rubbing against itself; the choir of a thousand doves.
And then Antenor speaks, a mountain shaking itself apart; the sky rending itself to pieces.
Crino says nothing, shaking her head, dark tresses cascading over her bared shoulders. They move beyond Hector, standing before your group – before Pollux, you realize.
The Trojans begin speaking amongst themselves; Crino is doubtful, eyes downcast. Theano, still beautiful despite her advanced age, motions firmly with her hands – resolute, decisive. Antenor peers at them carefully, and then at Pollux, saying nothing.
Antenor speaks, and you hear the muted reply – catching only fragments:
<span class="mu-i">“Forgive me. I – my companion,” replies the greater of Dioscuri, before continuing faintly “- too far, I see – but I beg you –“</span>
Antenor suddenly turns to peer at you – and ten thousand stones crush you; ten thousand hooks pry apart your flesh, your mind. It is infinite – it is an instant. Antenor turns to depart, striding past Hector. Theano follows at his heels; they turn into Hector’s apartment, closing the door silently behind them.
Now beautiful Crino approaches, she of the shining eyes, and speaks – his voice the clear ring of bronze on bronze; the soft sounds of wool upon the loom.
>cont
