Upon instruction from Zeus, son of Kronos, I found myself making way to the battlefield, in wear similar to that of a Trojan himself. But no trojan am I as I sneakily convince Pandarus to aim his arrow at Menelaus. Like the fool he is, Pandarus takes the bait and with his arrow (to which I simply swat aside) begins the pretext for attack. With no truce in sight, my day only segments into the jowls of another war where I remain active in fight to the aid of the Achaeans. When Diomedes becomes injured and prays for revenge, I grant his request and beset such incredible amounts of strength and power within him that it draws worry in the eyes of any opossing gods on the battlefield. Be not afraid of challenging the gods, I tell Diomedes. All but one: Aphrodite. Diomedes proves to be the true hero of this battle, sleighing Trojans left and right while others fall to their deaths. When he disobeys my command by attacking God Apollo, son of Zeus, he receives no reprimand other than the stiff finger from Apollo.
As the Trojans begin to takeover battle, Zeus finally decides to listen to my advice and allow myself and Hera to aid in favor of the Achaeans. I encourage Diomedes to take action opposite to my previous statement, and we both ride in a chariot aimed straight for Ares. Moldable like butter, Diomedes is persuaded effortlessly and unconvincingly. After Diomedes succeeds in injuring Ares, I watch his whimpering retreat to Mount Olympus then head home. There’s just something so satisfying about winning.
As the Achaeans begin to overtake Trojan forces, Helenus urges Hector to return home so that he is able to ask a favor of his mother requesting for her and her command to pray for mercy at the temple of Athena. I know that Hecktor follows this request because I hear the prayers as I watch Hector and Paris return to battle. Poor Hector, too wrought with Team A to ever circumvent his career as soldier for the life of a family man.
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