Chapter Text
It has been ten years.
Ten years since Odysseus has been away from Ithaca- away from his kingdom , his beloved wife, Penelope, and his son, Telemachus. Ten years that were taken away from him when he was dragged into this war (even if it was kind of his fault, pledging an oath to Helen that made all suitors who actively attempted to woo Helen would be required to defend not only her, but also her husband for Penelope’s hand in marriage.).
Odysseus feels anxious yet lucky. It was a miracle. Out most major player in the war, he and his army came out relatively unscathed. Patroclus was killed by Hector, which enraged Achilles who killed him and was later killed by Paris. Diomedes left a while ago along with his own men. His longest friend, Menelaus was heartbroken when Helen appeared angered at him for killing Paris, still under that love spell from Lady Aphrodite. The gods and goddesses who were fighting early were now gone, most likely due to their blood being spilled and the city gone.
Maybe it was Lady Tyche’s blessing them at this very moment.
As Odysseus, from his camp at Troy looks back at his army- his crew. Most of them were moving crates onto the ships, filled with jewels, supplies and more for the journey back to Ithaca. The faint light from the stars, the harsh light from torches and the flames still lingering in the sacked and burned city of Troy illuminate the area around them. The smell of blood spilt still lingers and permeates the air around.
Six hundred men under his command, a marvel that none of them are dead. He watched his crew talk among themselves, how even after the war had dulled and numbed their spirits, they still were cheerful in a way. Perhaps excited that tomorrow early morning, they would finally return back to Ithaca and be reunited with their families.
Home . A concept so familiar yet so foreign. Tomorrow they will all be heading home, and hopefully, Lady Tyche will continue to bless them the luck they need to make it back safely in one piece.
“Captain!’
Odysseus jolts out of his thoughts, looking to his side to see his two close companions- Polites and Eurylochus, approach him. Both of them seem to be in good spirits, though it was harder to tell with Eurylochus than Polites.
“Yes, Polites?” Odysseus replies, giving him a faint smile.
Polites put his hand on Odysseus’s shoulder before wrapping his arm around his neck, “What’s got you in deep thoughts, Captain? Are you still thinking about them?”
“He always seems to be thinking about them, even during the war,” Eurylochus remarked, crossing his arms as he looks at the both of them.
“Of course I do think about them, I miss my wife and son,” Odysseus scoffs, before jabbing his finger at Eurylochus's chest, “And as if you don’t think about your wife as well.”
Their conversation quickly devolved into light-hearted jabs, quickly catching up without the over looming threats of wars anymore. It was nice. It felt like old times, before they got their hands stained with blood. A few more minutes passed before Odysseus sent them both away to help with the other crew, promising them that he would be fine.
He watches from afar with a small smile. Watching as the two of them interact with each other and the other crew members with their guards down. He prays, hopes and promises that they all make it home safely. Perhaps he should make an offering to the gods for a safe journey home.
Hopefully, the remaining days will remain uneventful.
‘The blood on your hands is something you won’t lose. ’
‘Don’t make me do this!’
‘Forgive me…’
‘I’m just a man..’
Odysseus jolted awake in the late of the night in his tent. He heaves, feeling his heart in his throat. Panting softly, feeling more breathless than he has ever been as he shudders, dropping his head into his hands.
The vivid nightmare still lingers in his mind. Closing his eyes, he still remembers yesterday. How the roaring of flames, the screams of the people of Troy and the clashes of blades all slowly dulled when he heard Zeus’s words. How the small babe in his arms will be the end of his kingdom- his family. The innocent baby looked up at him and all he could see was Telemachus in his place. His son. He missed out ten years of his life because of this war. His nails dig into his skin almost drawing out blood, as he remembers the blanket slipping out of his hands when he intentionally dropped the infant from the tall tower and the thud far below signaled the child’s end.
Would Penelope still love him? Would she still love him when she found out what he’s done? The man who he became? The man who killed a baby? Would Penelope still trust him with their son? Would Telemachus trust and love him?
“No, no, no..” Odysseus murmurs softly as to not wake anyone else up. He shudders and hopes not, a small part of him hopes that it would not affect his relationship with his family. People die in war, so this is just natural.. Right? He feels so hollow, so empty.
He glances to his right, seeing Eurylochus and Polites still asleep along with some others. He can’t stay here, it feels too suffocating- he needs to leave for a moment. A moment to himself, some time to recuperate. Odysseus stumbles, his legs still feeling shaky after that nightmare, and heads for the exit of the tent. He opens the flap and walks out, faltering as he looks back once more before heading into a random direction.
Odysseus ventures even further into a nearby forest, grimaces at the lack of any light source except the dim moonlight. In his hurry, he had forgotten to bring a torch or lamp. Even worse, he has also forgotten to bring any kind of weapon to protect him from harm if it comes his way. Odysseus mentally berates himself for such simple mistakes as he continues to navigate the rough terrain. He turns around, now unable to see his camp as he was too deep in the woods. The air around him starts to slowly become more heavy the deeper he is.
“This was a bad idea..” Odysseus huffs, mumbling to himself, “Where am i..?”
As he continues to explore and find his way back, he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand and his heart drop when he hears the leaves behind him crunch. Odysseus quickly turns around and backs away slowly, preparing himself for a fight or to run away if the situation calls for it.
“Who is there?” He calls out.
No one replies.
Odysseus looks around. He sees the shadows in the forest getting darker, converging together in front of him. The atmosphere around him becomes even more heavier than it already is, making it harder for him to move and breathe. He looks around more frantically, his thoughts rushing through him rapidly in his head. The shadows, it looks like it was dancing and merging together, almost in a tandem.
And that was when he saw it.
“Hello your Highness,”
They watch the young king from the shadows, noting that he has blessings from Lady Athena, as they watch the divine’s power swirl around him- almost possessively , along with some lingering divinity in his blood. But it is oh so very faint. They have been watching him since he stepped onto Troy, especially when Lady Moirai has slipped and mentioned an Odyssey surrounding Lady Athena’s champion and some lingering divinity in his blood. Fascinating mortal.
They have been slowly luring the king from his camp, manipulating sequences of events that were supposed to happen. A little reminder of his actions here, a little nightmare there, and along with some guilt tripping. Slowly, they converged the shadows together, a form to interact with the king. Everything was falling into place. All for this moment to happen in their favor.
“Hello your Highness,”
They barely resist the urge to burst into laughter as they watch the young king try to hid his flinch from them. The fearful and befuddled expression. How he seems to falter under the heavy aura of them.
“Who goes there?” the young king replies wearily, the worry in his eyes seems noticeable. His eyes seem tired and more drained than when he first stepped on Troy. Although that is what usually happens to soldiers in war. Oh, how mortals are so fragile.
“Odysseus of Ithaca. I would tell you my name, but I'm afraid that isn’t important now.” They reply back, a thousand voices whisper in unison. The dark shadow slowly swirling up and around the king. They silently snicker as they watch him try to hide his shudder at their touch. “But it’s not like you will remember me,” they added, watching the king’s eyes widen.
“Wha?-” Odysseus manages to say before the shadow wraps around his mouth tightly, gagging him and preventing him from shouting out for help and such. The rest of the shadow slowly slithers up his body and pulls him down. The air around turns from mildly suffocating into full-on oppressing, almost as if it was trying to deprive him of any oxygen.
They watch as he tries to squirm his way out of their hold, his weak attempt at putting up a fight against them.
They laugh at his attempt. “Don’t fight against it, your highness. You will be rewarded very dearly for this,” they mockingly coo at him, their words grating to hear.
Now this is bad.
How does one situation turn from niche to very bad in a span of a moment?
Odysseus tries to yell out for help to no avail. And the more he does, the harder it is for him to breathe. He squirms even more in the being’s grasp, the wisps of shadows getting closer and closer to his nose.
“Don’t fight against it, your highness. You will be rewarded very dearly for this,”
‘What? Rewarded for suffering? How cruel. How-’
Odysseus continues his struggle but it can last for so long before he begins to feel the fatigue set in. The nightmares, the war, the planning, staying up late and the lack of sleep are all catching up to him. Not to mention the lack of air he feels like he is receiving. At least he isn’t actively dying at the moment. But the situation isn’t any better. He may not be dying but he sure is still trapped. There is a small chance of being able to make it out.
The being is also a cause for concern. What and who were they? They definitely aren’t any type of divine being he has ever seen. Are they a divine being like the gods? Or are they lower in status?
'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-'
But then it happens.
The shadow swirls and slithers up to cover his nose, finally starting to suffocate him. His lungs burned at the lack of air it isn’t receiving. Panic takes a hold of him and his mind. Twisting and turning, blinding his logic and plans. His vision blurred as his tears welled up in his eyes as he struggled once more to free himself from the entity’s hold. No, no, no, no, no. The panic gets tighter, wrapping around him like a vice and starts to become stronger as he feels death approaching. The idea of dying, of going through all of this just to never be able to return home to his wife and son are all too much for him. His muscles burn as he attempts once more before the lack of air gets all too much for him.
Then it gets worse, even more worse. The shadows that were wrapping around his mouth try to pry his mouth open. Odysseus's eyes widen, realizing what it was trying to do to him. He clenches his mouth shut. He tries his best to resist the being. He really does. But in the end, he is no match for its strength. It slowly pried his mouth open, making its way into his mouth and down his windpipe. NO, NO, NO, NO- It feels like something airy was crawling down his throat. He tears up. GET IT OUT. Then something slimy slides down his throat. He struggles against the shadowy bonds, keeping him from moving. That kept him kneeling. GET IT OUT. Then it solidifies in his throat, blocking his airway.
‘NO, NO, No, no-’
His lungs continue to ache, agony and pain settle in as he continues his struggle for air. His vision is now becoming less and less clearer and his head is aching, like he is being hit over the head with a heavy object over and over again.
‘No, no… Penelope.. Telemachus…my friends.. my crew... my kingdom...’
Odysseus' vision continues to narrow overtime. One, two, three minutes might have passed but it feels like a lifetime without oxygen. He starts to see little lights floating around his vision and his head is now pounding with pain. The darkness starts to slowly seep into his vision and he feels himself giving into the pain and sleep. He doesn't want to die. He needs to get home. For Penelope. For Telemachus. For his crew. For his kingdom.
'Ithurtsithurtsithurts-'
‘No… Pene… Tele…’
But he feels oh so tired. So, so tired.
'I'm sorry.'
It all goes dark.
“-ptain… Odysseus… ODYSSEUS!”
“I’m awake, I'm awake!” Odysseus yelps, groaning as he awakes with a jolt. He finds himself lying on the rough, rocky ground. Looking up, he saw Polites and a few other of his crew members crowding around him and looking down at him with worry. “Is there anything wrong, Polites?”
“Captain.. You’re awake,” Polites begins, pausing before continuing, “I- nevermind. We were preparing to leave back to Ithaca. But then, you passed out suddenly and you weren’t waking up.”
“Ah, sorry about that, Polites.” Odysseus sheepishly smiles up at the man, sitting up, “I might have not slept enough, with all the things going on. From the war then planning the logistics of our supplies to ensure we have enough to make it back-”
“Well Captain, you better sleep well next time.” Polites interrupts, gently reminding the man, “We can’t have you passing out on us, especially now.”
“Alright, alright.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his head, “Sorry about worrying the rest of you.”
Faintly, a soft snicker can be heard, travelling through the air.