The Fall of Troy

She carried a burning secret within her, just as Troy burned around her. Ash and smoke blew into her eyes, and she moved her veil to block the wind. In the chaos of night, she’d managed to hide herself better among the crush of frightened people than the sackable buildings. She’d turned away when they threw her nephew from the high walls, shut her ears and fled from the keening of her people. Through the crowds and fighting she’d dodged, to the Temple of Athena, sure she’d be safe at such a holy spot. The warriors were already there, doing horrible things to her half-sister. Dancing shadows clung to their nude forms, and Hypatia bolted down the lane, her small form mercifully invisible to passing soldiers. She hid behind a pillar at another Temple and watched as her father was killed as he clung to the statue of a god who made no move to save him. Was nowhere sacred to these monsters?
But she didn’t want to think about that now. Through the ruin of her beloved city, she stepped carefully, watched for any movement as the dawn gleamed rosy on the high stone walls. The second sun since the sack had begun. They’d come at night, like cowards, and slaughtered without mercy. Thankfully her mother had died of sickbed a few years ago; but now Hypatia had nowhere else to turn. The whole of the royal family was sure to have been either killed or taken as slaves. She didn’t think they’d have much to spare anyway, not for an illegitimate child of Priam, and a girl for that matter. And she certainly didn’t want to stay here, not while the gulls still flocked and picked at parts of people she’d known. Not a living sound echoed in the city, just the snap and pop of the burning houses.

But there! There was her sister Creusa, looking beautiful and pale in the weak dawn. Hypatia struggled toward her, maneuvering carefully around all the burning rubble. She had to stop once, to put out the hem of her dress. By the time she looked up, her sister’s figure had vanished, and Hypatia froze in the smoke, wondering if she were hallucinating. Tears from the thick smoke stung her eyes, and she would have sunk to the ground if most of it hadn’t been littered with broken bits of pottery, smashed furniture and corpses.

Another figure cut through the smoke, and she jumped, scrambled backward at the sight of his armor and weapons. He called to her, though, and she turned at the sound of his voice. That was no Achaean accent!

“Hypatia!” he called, waving his spear at her. Tentatively, she inched through the smoke toward him, lest it be some treachery. He pulled his helmet off and she recognized the golden curls of her cousin, Aneas. Her chin trembled, and she thought she might burst into tears. She let him wrap his arms around her, but she stood straight, unwilling to believe that the gods had sent him back.

“How are you still alive?” she asked, as he released her and lifted his shield. He gave her that cocky smile that she knew so well, and held up his spear.

“I fought them all off,” he said. She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he laughed. How could he be so flippant? Did he not see the wreckage that lay around them? “The Achaean army has left with its spoils,” he said after a moment, and turned toward the broken gates.

“We thought so not two days ago,” she said, and wondered if the lie was obvious in her voice. He did not notice, at any rate, and they picked their way across the city to the huge walls that had protected them well throughout the past ten years.

“Now they have left for good,” he said as they walked. “They won their war and destroyed our lives, but we will rebuild.”

“You cannot.” She rushed forward and put a hand on his spear arm. He turned to her and his green eyes were dark inside the helmet.

“I am the sole heir of this nation, cousin.” His words trembled out of his mouth, hope and fear mixing with anguish. “You dare tell me what I can and cannot do?”

She stood there for a moment, mulling it over in her mind, heart pounding in her throat. How could he understand? She’d escorted Polyxenia when Priam made the exchange for Hektor’s body. She knew what the price had been.

“The city is cursed,” she said, finally. Aneas shook his head. Her hair swirled around her like a black veil in the wind that screamed down on them, as though she would release the monster by giving name to it.

“No, you’re being over dramatic,” he said, tugging on her hand. She stayed where she was, and knew that the secret ember in her belly was going to advance to an open flame. How she wished she could stay silent!

“Unfortunately, dear cousin, I know exactly what I am speaking of,” she replied. The flame was only being fanned now, and she felt as though she were going to peel apart from the inside. She felt afraid, but she supposed she had felt afraid many times.

“Are the gods speaking through you?” he asked. She could have laughed.

“We are from a far away land,” she said. “These gods mean nothing. They did not bother to protect us because they could not.”

“What do you mean?” he said, as the wind howled around them. She took his hand and fed him a bit of the power that reverberated through her. He gasped as the feeling seized at his heart, tried to trap his lungs closed. She dragged him into a house near the walls, hoping that might protect them from the wind.

“Our great city is not the first city to have fallen. Babel was first. Then Atlantis. Then Akrotiri.”

“You’re talking nonsense,” he said. “I saw Creusa’s shade, she spoke to me, and told me that I am destined to voyage to find a new spot to rebuild Troy.”

“It wasn’t her shade,” Hypatia said, but that was all the girl could get out before her power took over. “This has all happened before.”

She could feel the wind vibrating to the core of her being, feel the sparks of electricity course through her. Aneas watched, horrified, as she spread her palms wide and the wind pulled her off the floor. She spoke with a voice of prophecy. “And all this will happen again.”

With creaking timbers and showers of plaster, the roof began to collapse. Whether it was from the fire or the power that filled the room, Aneas could never say. But he reached out to his cousin to try to save her, to try to pull her back to safety. She looked at him, her deep brown eyes black to the whites, and with all the strength she could muster, shoved him out the door before the burning building collapsed on top of her body.

1189 words.  Based on this.