One Ajax of honor, one Ajax of shame. Both transfixed: by sword and rock(/lightning), respectively. Ajaxes who lived through war, drama, loss, and the whimsical manifestations of impatient gods. “That might be a tree, friend, or it might be a lustful dryad, either way, keep your guard up.” Did they even know between themselves who was the greater and who the lesser? Would I know if I met the greater version of myself? Why was there was no Ajax the Middling, Ajax the Mediocre, Ajax the OK? The Ajax who would’ve drawn circles with his sword in the sand near the ships.