#4 Hector’s Dilemma – Inner Monologue (Book 22)
Moaning, groaning, creaking, the sound of the gates behind me as if they carry the weight of Troy. My people watch. My wife, my son, “What will they remember me as? Brave… or just a fading memory?”
Achilles. His name is Thunder. His fury burns brighter than the sun at noon. I see him approaching, feet that never go weary, hands soaked in Patroclus’ blood.
But I stay. Gods help me, I stay.
Could I run? Should I run? My legs jerk with the urge. Live to fight again, live to hold Andromache once more, live to kiss my boy’s brow. But what is a life won through shame?
If I run now, all I’ve vowed to protect falls apart. Honor, the bond that holds a man together, would unravel in the rubble behind me.
Yet I know the truth, don’t I? The gods have already spoken. I am but a chapter in their war script. My destiny was knitted long ago by Moira’s fingers. I feel it pulling tight around my chest.
But let the Fates spin as they must. Let Achilles charge with his god-forged rage.
No! I will not run. I will stand. Not for praise. For Troy. For my people behind the wall. For the boy too young to understand why heroes fall.
I chose to write Hector’s inner monologue because it exposes the pressure between personal fear and public duty. In epic poetry, heroes are not only warriors, they are symbolic figures who must struggle with fate, shame, and the expectations of their people. Hector’s choice to face Achilles reflects the genre’s focus on honor, mortality, and legacy.