Work Text:
In the den of the Cyclops rests the son of one who shakes the earth.
Few I know would face that cave,
And fewer know not what transpired where Nobody, man of mystery,
Drew a rage from the great Poseidon
A rage far greater than any wave to capsize the mightiest ships.
Men starving, lost at sea and hungry for more than food,
Hungering for home, lie low in will.
Nine days they drifted,
Nine days spent lost to the sea,
When there they find an island– Potential as radiant as Dawn’s rose-red fingers
Calling to the sun god’s chariot,
vibrant as the rainbow
Called forth by Iris of the swift feet–merely waiting for them
Filled to the brim with goats.
The men, in their joy, carelessly fled their ships to the island,
Eyes gleaming at the first sign of food
The man of mystery, clever and cunning, kept some men aboard to watch for the danger he surely knew was there.
For the Cyclops were not ones to remain hidden, even in the days before Polyphemus’ unending rage
Nobody took his finest fighters and braved the cave
A cave he surely knew held a creature to kill his finest.
For if he did not know, he would not have brought with him wine gifted by Maron, lord of Ismarus, son of Euanthes, and priest of Apollo.
The men had planned to steal cheese and lambs from the one-eyed giant, but found themselves cornered by the creature itself
‘Who are you!?’ it shouted. ‘What seafarer dare steal my flock from behind my back!?’
Nobody, far too confident in his way
Though surely more scared than we shall ever know, offers his reply:
‘We are men of Achaea, bound now from Troy
On our knees, we ask for a warm welcome.’
‘A welcome warm from me?’ scoffed the Cyclops. ‘A fool you must be.’
The Cyclops, cruel in his way, keeps the clever Nobody’s men trapped, eating them as he goes about his errands.
The man of mystery, angered by their deaths, comes up with the cleverest of plans
Though perhaps he was far too sure in his victory.
He offers his wine to the giant, certain his plan will succeed
The giant accepts and asks, ‘Tell me your name so I may give you a gift for this fine drink!’
Nobody offers his name, his clever ploy, ‘You must give me a guest-gift, but I shall give you my name. It is Nobody, so my mother and father call me.’
With that, the giant smiles and gives his gift in reply.
With that, he seals the fate of Nobody’s crew with a promise to eat Nobody last.
The Cyclops reaches for more of his men before crashing to the ground, drunk off Maron’s wine, drunk off his own power over the men of Nobody’s ship.
Together, the men scramble to blind the Cyclops, of which they are successful.
But with every success in this journey, lies a tragedy around the bend.
In his rage, the Cyclops throws the men off himself, killing three more and leaving Nobody with only one by his side.
Many of his strongest have died, and only two men remain.
The two race for the cave entrance with what little food they can carry, praying to any god that listens for their own safety.
They make it out, free at last,
narrowly avoiding a swing of the Cyclops’ mighty fist.
Out of breath and alone, the two race back to their ship, weeping for those they had lost.
The rest of the crew sees them, they see their captain and crewmate covered in blood.
Blood they pray is not their fellows’.
Blood they pray comes from the giant they have surely slain.
Their prayers are not answered.
The Cyclops, blinded by the last men he killed, comes bounding from his cave as Nobody and the last warrior board the ship.
Nobody quiets his men, for the Cyclops only has sound to rely on, and leaves as swiftly as he can.
The one-eyed beast calls to his fellows, ‘Help! I have been blinded by a cursed pirate.’
The rest come far after Nobody is out of sight, alert for one who might steal from them. ‘Who has hurt you, Polyphemus?’
‘Nobody did! It was Nobody!’ cried the Cyclops, enraged by the audacity of a mere human.
‘If nobody hurts you, be silent. You are weak if you have been blinded so savagely by nothing. If there is something, tell your godly parent, not us.’ The others take their leave, annoyed by the interruption of their meal.
The Cyclops shouts in indignation and hurries back to his secluded cave.
‘Father, shaker of the earth and god of the seas, a man has blinded me. Nobody has blinded me!’
‘You fool of a son,’ replies Poseidon. ‘If nobody has blinded you, be quiet and remain as you are. For I cannot help when you insist nobody has done it.’
‘The man who dares to harm a child of mine shall be cursed to roam the seas forever,
but I cannot curse a foul man such as he without knowledge of who he is!’ rants Poseidon, frustrated without the knowledge of the man stupid enough to harm his offspring.
Since that fateful event, none brave the island covered in the ire,
The ire of a god and son wronged by a man with no name.
A man known only as Nobody.
Any who make it out lose all those they love that have entered the cave,
just as Nobody lost his best warriors.
Nobody, man of courage, yet so afraid to blind the Cyclops with his own hands,
lost nearly all because of that cowardice.
It would do you well to avoid it. Those who venture the island are cursed
as the earth-shaker promised to curse Nobody.