#diomedes as a god

[katerinaaqu]

The Death of Odysseus

So...I decided to chop myself some onions today! This idea was in my head quite some time! I am planning a Part 2 of this but I believe this can also stand on its own! As the title says...

Telemachus was marching across the hall slowly and steadily while supporting the body of his old father. Surely the celebrations for the harvest were going very well and people were having fun but the new King of the Cephallinians had to excuse himself to escort his father to his chambers, for he had apparently drunk more than what he should have and needed his rest. He didn’t mind that little break. Telemachus was never fond of huge crowds anyways and he liked some quiet and solitude. Ever since his father finally came back home after his redemption trip he often spent more time with him than with the servants! He had so much catch up to do with him and so much to talk about and learn from him! As the years passed and Telemachus finally grew old and experienced enough to become king at his own accord, Odysseus gave the throne to him, just like his father before him had also done, and he promised to support him. For Odysseus himself, his life seemed to have been completed with happiness. After his son got married and he brought to this world his beloved grandson, Perseptolis, whom he named after the family tradition himself, his happiness was completed. He had nothing more to expect. He felt his heart was filled with happiness and calmness after a lifetime of worries, torture and ordeals! His son had grown, he was doing a marvelous job as a king, and his grandson was strong and healthy, growing every day! What else could he ask for! Odysseus was already 79 years old, just a few hours away of his 80th birthday. Age was taking over his body pretty fast, especially given the ordeals he had gone through; his bones were often complaining, his arms and fingers often suffered from stiffness and pain, especially when the nights were humid and cold but Odysseus welcomed that pain with happiness. He had grown old when so many others wouldn’t even dream of and he was generally healthy; he still had all of his teeth and most of his hair and his wits were sharp as always, not deteriorating by age. He would praise Athena every day of his life for this. Somehow he would hate to become an imbecile with age, or so he used to say, he would hate to become a burden to his son especially given the sorrows he had given him unintentionally all these years back. Telemachus chuckled as he fixed his staggering father onto his body better.

“Now, now, father!” he said playfully, “I swear to gods, the older you get the more like a child you act!”

Odysseus chuckled.

“Well, my son, I am now old man, I have no responsibilities anymore other than catering to my family’s garden and play with your son and dear grandson of mine; gods bless him! I believe I earned myself the privilege to act so!”

Telemachus rolled his eyes.

“Even so, you shouldn’t have drunk so much! In your age you should watch your health better!”

Odysseus once again chuckled and made a dismissive move with his hand.

“Oh well…” he said nonchalant, “Wine is one of the few pleasures I have left in this miserable world at my age, my son!”

“Oh, father!” Telemachus scoffed, “Come on now!”

“Either way!” Odysseus shrugged, “This year’s brew was just too good to resist! And you did very good job selecting it and choosing the perfect time for the sea water to be mixed in it! You made it hard to resist!”

“Father! You’re unbelievable!”

“Part of my charm, I’m sure!”

Telemachus couldn’t help himself chuckle softly as he led his father to his bed chamber, to his beloved olive bed. Initially Odysseus had given that as a wedding chamber to his son and his daughter-in-law but for the past few months Odysseus had made this request if he could live his last days in that room where he gave life to this family, where he used to share with his mother his nights and early mornings. Odysseus was devastated when Penelope died. He mourned her for weeks. However Telemachus saw also how calmly he took it. They both grew old and finally enjoyed their lives. That last tribute of Odysseus closing her eyes seemed simply to close that circle. Odysseus mourned but he didn’t despair. He greeted her death like an old friend and thanked all gods that it found his wife healthy and happy and that she died peacefully in her sleep. Penelope had also requested that she were to be transferred to her old bed a little before she died; this was where she had left her last breath. Therefore, after Odysseus made the same request, Telemachus feared his father had sensed his own death coming, thus making him even more careful and worried of him. His father was dismissive of it, of course, and in a way he was right; he wouldn’t be around forever, but to Telemachus the news of losing his father were too sad, too scary to comprehend even if it was the most normal thing in the world. Either way he now led his father to his bed, slowly and steadily and assisted him to it. Odysseus sighed in relief as he was placed upon the mattress and assisted out of his sandals by his son. His son often did this; he attended to him himself, not asking the servants to do things like this. It was as if he was trying to make up the lost time. He breathed deeply again as the bed sheets were paced above his body as well as a blanket his wife had loomed for him; his favorite. It pictured an intricate pattern of olive branches, moly flowers and waves circling a ship that roamed close to a mountain-like island. The ship had three figures standing on them embracing. Penelope had spent months on this blanket and she had given to him as a gift a few years before when he was complaining for the pains in his body from the cold. His father could hardly part with it lately. He even jokingly (or perhaps not so much) said that he wanted this blanket to be his funeral shroud, covering the sheet.

“Is it comfortable?” Telemachus asked

“Yes, thank you…” Odysseus whispered

His hand slowly touched Telemachus’s cheek, feeling the black, curly, bushy beard covering it along with his warm flesh. He smiled affectionately with moist, onyx-black eyes, perceiving those blue eyes of his wife’s to him. Yes, Telemachus was their pride and joy. He took the best out of both of them! He had his strength, his resilience and he had taken his mother’s eyes, her kindness…her wisdom… Yes, Odysseus was proud of what they had done. This pride was exceeding any of the labors he performed in any war; any praise he ever received in his life seemed insignificant before this result he had before him…

“You go back to the celebrations, my son…” he whispered affectionately, “Go back and have fun…don’t spend the rest of the night here with your old father… I will be fine…”

Telemachus scoffed softly, feeling strangely emotional. For some reason his own eyes felt almost watery.

“You silly old man!” he whispered cupping his father’s hand on his cheek with his own, “Anyways, are you sure you are okay? I can ring for someone to come and attend to you”

“Positive…” Odysseus whispered, “I am fine. I will just sleep. I am really tired”

Telemachus shook his head defeated.

“Fine, but please do not hesitate to call if you need anything”

He stood up to leave.

“Telemachus”

Odysseus’s hand holding his wrist made him stop. He turned to look at the old, white-haired figure of his father’s.

“Thank you…” the tormented king whispered, “…For everything…”

Telemachus half-chuckled, again not sure why he was so emotional all of the sudden. Perhaps he too had more to drink than he should have and it affected him.

“What?” he asked, “That sounded almost like a goodbye…”

Odysseus smiled. His smile was calm and his eyes were glistering in the moonlight.

“What an idea!” he whispered, “There is much life left in these old bones! I buried many much younger than me! I have plenty of years ahead of me!”

Telemachus chuckled.

“Rest well, old man” he whispered and kissed his father’s brow

Odysseus could only nod as he watched his pride and joy, his son who grew strong and healthy, leave the wedding chamber where he was born into, with his crimson cape waving behind him. He smiled as he was alone in the moonlit room…his eyes shedding two tears.

He knew it was a lie.

It was the last, white lie Odysseus of Ithaca was to say…his last goodbye to this world and he wanted to see them off all smiling and celebrating. He didn’t want his last memory to be of his son crying or closing his eyes. This was the last task he had to do himself; alone. He didn’t have much time left and he knew it…and yet he felt calm. He had fulfilled his purpose. There was nothing else for him… He was happy.

*

He was breathing heavily. His large chest (not as muscular as it used to be) was moving up and down with each breath. He looked up at the canopy of olive branches and smiled. His eyes then moved to the side, to the window that had a clear view of the sea… His eyes filled with tears but these tears wouldn’t shed.

“Death will find you at ripe old age…peacefully…away from the sea…or by its salt huh…?” he whispered chanting the words of Tiresias

Death was something he considered so many times in his life; both with aversion and fear as well as with wishful thinking. Now he felt calm. He could hardly understand how he had survived so long; how he lived longer than many other men of his time; longer than his beloved Penelope… Now he knew it was his time drawing near… There in his favorite bed, under his olive tree…looking at the sea that gave him so much happiness so much adventure and so much torment… He felt calm. He closed his eyes for one second lifting away the tears that had filled his eyes.

“Odysseus…”

The unworldly and yet somehow familiar voice brought him back to reality. He opened his eyes to see that tall figure he never thought he would see again in his life; one of the few people that he wished to have met again and never did. His tall, square figure shone with incredible warm light, dressed up in a fine armor incorporating intricate patterns of feathers instead of plates. His magnificent plumed helmet brought up his dark eyes and the beard that adorned his cheeks and chin. He had a sword to his hip just like he could remember. His skin shone like golden, his long, brown curly hair neatly falling down his back under the helmet. He smiled without wanting to at that rigid figure before him.

“Diomedes!” he whispered

Diomedes smiled.

“It is I, Odysseus…indeed…”

Odysseus chuckled in delight.

“Wow…” he whispered, “I heard you bastard turned into a god by rumors but, on my word, I never expected to see it with my eyes… Gods you look the same as I remember…you haven’t changed!”

“Nothing and everything has changed…” Diomedes said in his deep, soothing voice

A god then! Odysseus didn’t know if he had to feel proud or a bit envious of him! However after years and years he spent on earth and learnt humility in the most painful ways, his envy was reduced to minimum. Diomedes deserved it, if half the stories that reached his ears about him were true. Besides who would want to live forever like this? He had people waited for him somewhere else too…

“So…” Odysseus whispered, “If you are here…that means…I am dying…right?”

“Yes…” Diomedes whispered.

That was definitely Diomedes he remembered. He never beat about the bushes and always came straight to the point.

“And you came to take me…”

“I asked Lord Hermes for the honor…yes.” Diomedes replied, “I was assigned with this task.”

“I see…”

“Are you afraid…?”

“No” the answer was simple; direct, “I have lived a long life…I have seen my son grow, I held my grandson in my hands…I nourished him too, to become a young man, I held my wife as she breathed my name one last time… I have nothing else to live for. My time would come… Death does no longer scare me. Death is not unknown to me…”

“Do you have any regrets?”

Yet another direct question. He breathed in and out once, looking upwards in thought.

“I would be a liar if I said I had none…” he finally confessed, “Many good men found death by my hand…many wicked too… I did many things I am proud of and many others I would always carry with me… The lives that fell under my command; both friends and foes alike are always present at my conscious”

“The war of Troy…”

“The war of Troy” Odysseus agreed, “Ten years we fought. Ten years we bled. Ten years we killed…and killed we did!”

“You and I especially”

“Quite so.” Odysseus agreed. “They called you ‘Lord of War Cry’; they called me ‘Sacker of Cities’… The titles would haunt us for the rest of our lives…”

“We bore them all our lives”

“Yes…we did…” he consequently scoffed, “And look at us now! You a god…and I an old man in my deathbed…who would have thought!”

“Do you want to linger a bit further…?”

Odysseus looked around once more.

“No” he replied, “I have lived everything any mortal could live. I am tired, Diomedes. Please take me now…I have nothing else to expect…”

Diomedes smiled one of his known, half-smiles. Child-soldier to the end; a man born and raised in war.

“I am to accompany you to your journey for a little while”

Odysseus smiled again.

“The journey to the Underworld is not unknown to me…I have not many surprises to expect… But I appreciate it…”

Diomedes extended his hand to him.

“It is time…” he whispered, “Time to go…”

“Yes…” Odysseus whispered, “I have one last request…”

“And what is that…?”

“Can I see my homeland one last time as I go…? Please…do not deny me this last thing…”

Diomedes smiled.

“Of course…”

Odysseus cried. He felt the last tears run down his wrinkled cheeks.

“Thank you…”

He took the hand of his old friend and closed his eyes. Once more, the much-enduring Odysseus accepted his fate… The last thing he saw before his eyelids blocked his mortal flesh eyes was the canopy of his olive bed and a tiny glimpse of the starry sky beyond…

***

My oh my what have I done indeed!!!! And be warned I was writing this while listening to this amazing piece of music from anime Tasogare Otome x Amnesia! I never manage to go through without tearing up with that one! TT-TT

So according to the prophecy of Tiresias Odysseus would die of ripe old age peacefully but ironically the translation from the phrase "εξ αλός" can be both translated "by its salt" or "away/out of its salt" so either his death would come "by the sea" or "away from the sea".

Somehow I tried once again to combine them! XD as you know me I cannot help myself. So Odysseus dies "away from the sea" in his bed at night but "by its salt" for he drank wine mixed with sea water before his death. There you go!

The age was picked so that Telemachus would be in his 40s when this happens. In a way he is at the same age as Odysseus was when he was at the final wars of Troy.

Yeah I imagined Telemachus being almost a copy of his father too apart from some more height and the eyes of Penelope (which were chosen randomly to be blue)

Tlemachus's wife is not named because the two prominient theories is either he gets married to the daughter of Nestor's or to Nausicaa. I sometimes tend to lean towards the second one solely because I find it interesting but I leave it to your imagination.

Perseptolis being named by Odysseus was part of an idea discussed with @ditoob before how the grandfather or grandmother leaves the name to the grandchildren after Autolycus names Odysseus.

And Diomedes is here!!! Imagine if these two never met so many years and meet when Odysseus dies!!! The idea was too much stuck in my head to ignore! So yes lo and behold my idea of a small dialog between them.

I hope you like it!

[be-it-so]

My favorite headcanon about gods and the mortals is that gods never understand how fragile humans are and don't understand how deep god's touches go through mortal's skin. (or simply don't care)

Athena will make Diomedes's grip on his spear stronger pushing his fingers tighter and almost breaking his bones. She fixes his position making his stance perfect, but human's body was never able to get into position this perfect so his muscles will be tearing and his bones will be cracking just to be instantly healed. When Athena removes her hands, his body will be covered in bruises.

Odysseus will always feel burning and at the same time freezing gaze on his back while Athena watches him across the battlefield. His ears will be filled with her breath and whisper, that will ring in his head long after she ended speaking. She will help him shot an arrow, and he will feel his joints moving in the way they were never supposed to move.

When Apollo turns all the spears and arrows away from the Hector he will still feel them digging into his flash. Apollo will raise him from the dust again and again, and Hector won't be able to stand without hearing god's voice in his ears and feeling god's burning touch on his shoulders. He closes his eyes and still sees the light.

Helen will stand tall to speak up to Paris, and Aphrodite will place her hands on Helen's shoulders to remind her of goddess's presence and this flaming grip will weight as heavy as ten years of war. Aphrodite will wash Helen's face so her skin will shine brighter and eyes will haunt every man in the room, and the only thing Helen feels is her skin freezing from the coldness of Aphrodite's hands.

And those touches won't end with battle or even with war. Every time Diomedes fights he will feel his body taking the exact position Athena once made him in, his limbs will come into shape they were never meant to be in, without deforming cause Athena already fixed them, once she already designed him according to her vision. Every time Odysseus lies his words will echo in his head just like Athena's words did before, every time he uses a bow, arrow in his hands will feel like a burning torch or like an ice, and his joints and tendons will sing in a perfect copy of the song Athena made them perform inside his body on the battlefield. Every time Helen will square her shoulders to feel herself more confident she will feel burning touch on her chin pushing it up and freezing breath in her hair. She will look at her husband and shadow of tight grip on her shoulders will become shadow of sharp nails digging into her skin, holding her in place.

Even dying at Achilles's hands and falling to the ground Hector would still hear an order in his head telling him to get up and fight, his own blood running down a neck will feel like Apollo's hands forcing him back to his feet.

No mortal ever forgets a god's touch.

[yourlokalescholar]

Oh my god wait. What if the blessings of the gods manifested physically? Like if a god takes an interest in you, EVERYONE is going to see it, for better or worse. And if you lose their favour? Everyone can see that, too

Jason with a peacock tail and feather-crest, both of which go faded and limp when he turns on Medea, so that they drag on the floor and get in the way

Pollux with eagle wings instead of arms, so Castor acts as his hands and that’s why they’re inseparable. When Castor dies and Pollux splits his immortality with him, they each get one arm and one wing, so one can’t fly without the other

Odysseus with a forked tongue and fangs—a subtle feature that he can hide when he needs to. When Athena feels like being helpful (like when she disguises him as a beggar) she’ll cast an illusion over it, but Penelope immediately recognises him by his lisp

When Athena gives Diomedes the blessing of seeing through the gods’ disguises, he also gets owl eyes and the ability to turn his head 180 degrees. This helps when Odysseus tries to stab him in the back on the Palladium heist

HERACLES WITH BULL HORNS. I have nothing to add I just think that sounds sick as hell

Helen grows beautiful golden feathers instead of hair. Nothing useful, just an obvious sign of her heritage that adds to her appeal to the suitors: whoever wins her hand gets to walk around with a physical symbol of Zeus’s favour

Atalanta with antlers that snap when she gets married, leaving jagged shards behind that won’t go blunt and can’t be sharpened down. She can have her husband, but he can’t touch her head without risking badly cutting himself. This can either be one final blessing or a curse depending on how consensual you interpret the marriage

Hector has pristine white raven wings, making him even more terrifying to the Achaeans, flying into battle like divine intervention, and a symbol of hope for the Trojans. Achilles plucks the feathers off his corpse, but they won’t stop growing back. Still, Achilles has a cloak made from them and wears it into battle, turning Troy’s symbol against them

Paris gets dove wings, but he tells everyone they’re too small to fly with because he’s a coward and doesn’t want to have the same responsibilities as Hector. Then he flies away from the duel with Menelaus in front of the entire army, and that’s when Troy finally loses what’s left of their respect for him

[simoondraws]

Diomedes kicked Ares' ass.

[nikoisme]

Malam concept,, wanted to draw more of him but i'm too sick atm haha

[wolfythewitch]

odysseus and diomedes reunion doodles except i run out of steam very quickly

[incorrecthomer]

Athena: You think I enjoy being mother hen to you all? Odysseus: Diomedes: Achilles: Agamemnon: Athena: Ok fine, it's like crack to me

[godsofhumanity]

Diomedes: "I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy." I would. Pussy. Odysseus: "I wouldn't stoop to their level." I will. Coward. Achilles: "I'm the bigger person." I'm not. Give me the gun, bitch.

[emmikay]

Athena in The Iliad Book 5:

[fintensifies]

I'm bored so gimmie your greek mythology-related hot takes

I'll go first: The Hades/Persephone retellings are overdone and demonize Demeter way too much, which makes them miss the entire point of the original story.

[katerinaaqu]

The Death of Odysseus (Part 2)

Oh my! So you thought you cried with Part 1 (please take a look at that too pretty please! ^_^)? Then I am sorry but the continuation made ME bawl my eyes out while writing! So I would expect to cause something out of you guys too! Odysseus's journey to the Underworld begins in the whirlpool of emotions, goodbyes and hellos and Diomedes being his guide...

“We’re here, Odysseus…”

The king of Ithaca opened his eyes and saw the hall. Everyone was having fun, drinking and dancing, celebrating. Odysseus smiled as he perceived them all at the hall; among them he saw his son sitting at the throne, next to him his wife. His grandson, a proper young man already, was talking to the other youths; he was already too wise beyond his years, he would be a fine king in the place of his father. Like Telemachus. He considered for a second how his family would be sad to see him dead the day after; maybe they would cry over his head…maybe they would mourn him and bury him close to his beloved wife… He lifted those thoughts away. Now he could see them happy; having fun. It was exactly how he wanted to perceive them; his family united and happy. That was the final image he wanted to burn in his mind of them.

“Diomedes they…”

“They cannot see us” Diomedes confirmed, “They cannot sense our presence.”

Odysseus looked around…at the walls that bore the murals, at the floors and columns… His hands felt the stone and at the same time they didn’t. He remembered his mother for one second. He was a shadow now. He couldn’t feel with his human senses anymore. That realization or rather confirmation; partially torn his heart apart. It was that last torment he wanted to impose to himself. He walked about the hall. He took in all the details of it; every stone, every pebble he practically saw it being placed there with his own eyes (sometimes even placed them himself with his own hands). He remembered every crack, every sound, every smell… He knew they would always be burnt in his memories when he would pass the threshold of Hades’s door. He looked at Diomedes almost tearful (he would tear up if he could now).

“Please, Diomedes…I beg of you as a friend…and as a god…take care of them! Keep them safe…come and check on them once in a while…”

“I will” Diomedes confirmed, “Always”

Odysseus nodded. Yes, that was enough. He had nothing more to hope for but for the prosperity and happiness of his family.

“Let’s go then…”

He felt himself being lifted up in the sky, holding Diomedes’s hand. As he ascended he saw his beloved castle dressed in the dark blue of the night…showered in moonlight; his beloved land…his world…his everything. He remembered every rock, every tree…every single voice of the hills of people that were now either celebrating or sleeping at their homes. He knew all cattle and all sheep that were raised there. He remembered all the trees his father used to tend; the trees that he now tended for years and now he would leave them all to his son and grandson with the addition of a few more he planted with his own two hands to the ground. He was leaving them all behind again for his last adventure… He kissed his hand and extended it over his beloved lands. The last time he would distantly kiss his holy ground… His last goodbye…

“Goodbye, Ithaca…my beloved home…” he thought, “You will all be in my heart forever…”

He looked at godly Diomedes and nodded. Diomedes did not need to hear more. He softly took him with him…riding his golden chariot into the night.

*

The threshold of Hades was almost as he remembered with the minor difference of the setting. He was standing there at the platform filled with all the souls that were ready to cross to the other side. With Diomedes there he could find his rest before his funeral. Or perhaps his funeral had already taken place? It was hard to calculate how much time had passed as a shade. Maybe a few minutes had passed in mortal world while he was traveling…maybe it was an eternity. He didn’t know. He couldn’t tell. The realm was indeed crowded with all kinds of souls and spirits; old, young, men, women, people dressed in beautiful shrouds and others in no shrouds at all. They waited at the platform like unworldly travelers ready to embark for an important trip. He saw happy faces and sad faces; he saw shades of people waiting for their trip. All seemed to get surprised by the blinding light Diomedes was emitting.

“Make way!” Diomedes was commanding, “Make way. This man is a king! Beloved to Athena and the Immortals. Make way…”

Odysseus was following in silence. He was even hugging himself to the veil he had with him. Somehow he was feeling small and insignificant among all these dead souls waiting to get on the boat that would ferry them across. He was following Diomedes hardly daring to look up. A king…a man…what was the difference? They were all going to the same place… Once again he felt like tearing up, throat almost burning in a reminder of his mortal life, and yet his eyes didn’t burn; no tears were able to be produced by shadows… Diomedes helped Odysseus on the boat. He gave a golden piece to the hand of the Boatman.

“Ferry us across, oh Charon…” Diomedes whispered emphatically, “We bring this king to the Realm of Hades…”

Odysseus, opposing to his previous resolve not to feel fear or worry, he felt his heart clench and he couldn’t even cry anymore to woe himself. It was the same feeling when he was leaving for Troy; the unknown trip you wouldn’t know whether you would see your beloved land again…but now it was worse; Odysseus knew he would never see his land again…he would certainly never come back from this last journey. He was heading to the dark realm of Hades. There was no going back. He almost felt the urge to run out again; to go back. But he held himself. He knew there was no point.

“If I look back…I’m lost…” he thought

So he sat in the boat in silence, clenching his ethereal veils around him. He almost curled in a ball, occasionally rocking himself back and forth as if he were a baby and was trying to console himself; telling himself it would be alright. The boat was moving slowly to the misty river that would bring the dead to their resting place; the horizon was an endless mist; he could barely hear the Boatman’s oar as it pushed the misty dark water, softly and steadily steering the boat. Every step would bring him closer and closer to the realm of the dead…to the people he knew he would have to face sooner or later; the people that lost their lives directly or indirectly because of him. He only dared to steal a few glances to Diomedes who stood steadfast in his godly attire. How fragile and alone he felt! Even if Diomedes’s presence was giving him comfort.

“If I look back…I’m lost…”

So he fixated his glance to the wooden floors of the boat, only on occasion stealing glances around; there, curled up in his ethereal veils, on occasion rocking himself back and forth for comfort…

“This is it, then…” he thought again, “The last journey…it will be over soon…It will be…”

He didn’t feel the cold and yet why was he shaking? Why this weird freezing sensation was taking over him? If shadows couldn’t cry or feel the cold like mortals do…

“Endure, my heart…” he caught himself thinking like he did a million times in his torments, “Endure…you have endured worse…”

He smiled a sad smile to himself.

“Goodbye Ithaca…goodbye for now my sweet Telemachus, joy of my life… Goodbye for long till my beloved Perseptolis, conqueror of my soul…”

He drew a breath trying to calm himself. The uneasiness wouldn’t pass completely but it was getting bearable. It was the nostalgia he knew he would never get over.

“…And goodbye Odysseus of Ithaca…king of Cephallinians…father of sweet Telemachus, grandfather to Perseptolis…son of Laertes…grandson to Autolycus, spawn of Hermes… Goodbye Man of Many Wiles…Man of Many Turns…Much Enduring…Man of Experience… Goodbye Goodly and Equal to Gods… Goodbye Sacker of Cities… Goodbye Odysseus…”

He sighed for he could no longer cry.

“…Goodbye…Nobody…”

*

The boat came to a stop to the shores of the Underworld and Odysseus was once more assisted down by Diomedes. Odysseus looked at the familiar dark environment of the realm of the dead. He felt like lost once more despite the fact he had been there before. He remembered how he was flesh and blood among the shadows. Now he was a shadow himself. He almost felt as if his eyes have gained a different perspective; a different type of vision. Suddenly the Underworld seemed…bigger much more definitive. He realized why; it was because now he would never get out of there. He looked around almost like lost for one second.

“Odysseus…” Diomedes spoke again

Odysseus looked up.

“Forgive me, Diomedes…” he managed to whisper, “I don’t know what’s gotten into me…”

He knew he sounded like a child; like his beloved Perseptolis every time he entered his chambers after a nightmare…every time he asked of him to tell him the stories of his adventures to fall asleep… He almost felt his previous resolve evaporate again before the face of the upcoming people he was to meet; the Trojans, the suitors… Palamedes…Dolon…the list was too long. Diomedes only smiled sadly.

“I understand…do not apologize…” he whispered compassionately, “All mortals avoid the face of death…and the Name of the one with the Many Names…”

Odysseus forced a smile to his lips and nodded. Yes, there was no point in worrying. That was his natural fear and anxiety. He had to get over it. It would make no difference anyways now.

“You made it, old chap!”

They both turned around to see the lean form of the Messenger of Gods. Argophontes Hermes was leaning against a black rock, nonchalant as always, with his winged hat and sandals emitting holy light. His cape seemed to be having its own life. His eyes sparkled like coals mischievously almost like lanterns that were meant to lead the dead to their final resting place. Odysseus perceived his great-grandfather with a weak smile.

“Hermes…” he murmured, “You came”

“I always am here, old friend!” Hermes replied with a smirk, “Always keep an eye on you, remember?”

“Yes, how could I forget? You helped me…both in Aeaea…and Ogygia…how can I forget?”

“Old stories, old chap!” Hermes giggled, “Go ahead now. You have your most important trip before you!”

Odysseus smiled and nodded apprehensively. Yes he knew. He knew very well…

“Hey!” Hermes called from behind them, “I’ll visit ya! Perhaps we can play some dice games together! See how it goes!”

The previous king of Ithaca, now a shadow among shadows smiled gratefully once more.

“I’d love that, my lord…I would be honored…”

Hermes touched his hat with his two fingers in a silent farewell.

“So long, old chap! Finally reaching Humanity’s One Home…”

Shadow among shadows… Odysseus’s face was twisted as if he was crying but shadows shed no tears. All he could do was feel the sorrow…the departure. And he still held his head high, walking proudly and bravely to the fate he knew would come…accompanied by the guiding light of Diomedes…

*

His steps had no sound upon the rocky terrain to the banks of the river of Lithe. Part of Odysseus was tempted to take a drink; forget who he was, wander like a shadow among shadows. However Odysseus of Ithaca was never known of being a coward or taking the easy way out; so his current shadow shouldn’t be an exception. Odysseus had long now prepared for his resolve. He just had, now, to live with his choice. It was the soundless footsteps he still needed to get used to. He could hear Diomedes’s strong footing upon the pebbles and yet he could not hear his own. Once more he clenched his veil around him for comfort.

“Captain…”

The voice made him turn around. The tall, bulky figure was standing there as his reddish blonde hair seemed dull as he was now a shadow but his cheeks were as smiley and as serious as he remembered. He looked the same as he remembered…

“P-Polites…” he whispered chocking in the words that climbed up his throat

Polites smiled and nodded.

“We were all waiting…”

“Always…”  there was another voice

Odysseus turned to see the lean, kind of thin figure of Eurylochus, his black hair as he remembered them…as he was that fateful day.

“Eurylochus…!”

If he were a mortal he would be crying now.

“F-Forgive me…!” he uttered in chocking sobs (the only reminder of his mortal tears), “I…I…forgive me…! It was all my fault!”

“Captain…what are you talking about?” Eurylochus said, “We have nothing to forgive you…not anymore…”

“B-But…but I…”

“We were here…almost 40 years, Odysseus” Polites spoke, “Who would hold a grudge here? And for what?”

“B-But…because of me you…all of you…”

“We made our mistakes too, Captain…” Eurylochus replied, “We have long forgiven and forgotten…we were all waiting…for you”

More souls began approaching and Odysseus knew them all; every one by name as he recognized all these men he lost so many years ago; young and vigorous like they used to be! Odysseus didn’t know if the tears he would want to cry if he were of mortal flesh and blood would be of joy or sadness. Maybe it was both.

“Alkimos…Amphidamas…Perimedes…Lycaon…Antilochus…”

He knew them all; name after name… As the young face arrived as well Odysseus once again smiled

“Elpenor!” he called, “Everyone…oh, gods! Gods!”

They had no words anymore. The retaliation he waited for them did not come. They embraced wholeheartedly. Odysseus realized he could touch them! He was one of them now; a shadow. They embraced him; they kissed him and patted his back and shoulders. They greeted him as if he was gone for a walk around the coastline to inspect the new land they explored instead of being gone for decades to the world of the living. Their touches did not have the same effect as when they were all mortal but they were so much wished for; even if they felt like a breeze, even if they were just a ghost of touch! Odysseus felt his heart ready to burst from all the emotions gathered.

“How can we hold a grudge against you now?” Polites said again, “It is thanks to you we are here…even if we have no proper tomb or funeral pyre and an urn…or a sema that mentions our names…”

“B-But I…”  Odysseus stammered, “I raised a sema for you…at the temple I built for Poseidon…with my hands…brick by brick…I…”

“We know” Eurylochus pointed out, “Which is why we are here and not wandering souls without a place to belong. You appeased Lord Poseidon and raised a temple for him memorizing our names…that’s why we were pardoned by the gods…thanks to you…”

“You carved our names on stone…” Amphidamas whispered, “One by one with your own hammer and chisel…”

“Every name you carved was a name that was led here by Argophontes…” Perimedes pointed out

“Every name you carved was a soul you saved…” Polites concluded

Emotional would be a very small word to express the condition that Odysseus was in right now; his long lost comrades; his companions, were all gathered around him. Their moment could last forever (perhaps it did in the mortal world) when the hellish choir stopped them! Odysseus looked in horror as a bunch of wandering souls arrived

“Odysseus!” they moaned in hatred, “The butcher of Troy finally reached here!”

He recognized some of the faces; people of Troy approaching. They were furious, rightfully so. Odysseus felt fear biting his heart and took several steps back. No, he knew that he was already dead. They couldn’t do real damage to him but that fear was instinctual; primal and strong. He felt like the city of Troy had every reason to hate him and some of the wandering souls were already here, aroused by his arrival. He was prepared it would happen but now it was happening too soon! Too fast! He felt this fear biting his heart and consuming him.

“Back!” Diomedes commanded in his ferocious voice

He hit his spear to the ground, releasing strong light which rippled around him like water shining by the sun.

“Stay back, shadows of the deep! This man shall not be touched! In the name of Athena I command you! Stay back!”

The shades backed down but kept their ground. Odysseus watched in an awe till Eurylochus placed himself before him.

“If you want to harm this man, you must first get through me!” he declared

“And me!” Perimedes joined

“Me too!” Elpenor claimed

“All of us!” Polites emphasized joining the others

Soon this small sea of people gathered around him, forming a wall. Diomedes once more stroke the ground with his spear. Before the impeccable wall, the hostile shadows seemed to be backing down. Odysseus watched all the figures that were now protecting him; like a wall protecting a castle. His eyes scanned them.

“1…2…50…100…200…” he counted, “600…602…”

He covered his mouth in emotion.

“You are…all here…602…”

“603” Polites smiled over his shoulder, “You are here too now, Captain… You are with us now…you are one of us again…”

Odysseus almost sobbed soundly in realization. Yes, he was now with them again! They were complete once more! Diomedes hit his spear on the ground again, this time lifting all the souls away! Odysseus nearly lost strength to his legs and he was held by Polites and Eurylochus.

“Now now, Captain!” Eurylochus said smiling softly, “Don’t crumble on us now! We need you strong once more!”

“Someone needs to lead us here!” Polites joined

Odysseus couldn’t help but scoff a bit, finding strength anew to his feet, standing steadily once more.

“You’re right…” he whispered, “Eurylochus, Polites…I can’t afford breaking now. We went through so much without breaking! All of us…”

Polites smiled.

“Shall we go, Captain? To our next adventure together? For good old times’ sakes?”

Odysseus scoffed.

“Yes! Let’s, Polites! To our greatest adventure yet! I will ask you to accompany me once more to an adventure of mine! Can I have your backs on this?”

Eurylochus and Polites almost in complete sync they hit their chest with their hand, followed by 600 more. They would pledge their loyalty on him again; they would accompany him till the moment they wouldn’t be able to go further. Odysseus was not so worried anymore. The unknown was before him but he had now companions once more to walk beside him. At least till some point; just like the good old times. He turned to Diomedes smiling weakly.

“Let’s go, Diomedes…I am ready”

Diomedes nodded in meaning.

“Yes…let us go. You have yet a long way to go.”

Odysseus nodded. He covered his head with his veil once more and raised his head. The road was long…

But that was how he was used to…

***

Oh man oh man oh man! TT-TT I am sorry guys I am waaaay too much in the angsty mode so I just had to post yet another part of this with the journey in the underworld. I was writing till 4 in the morning last night and kinda finished it today! Sorry if it is a bit all over the place but so is dying IMO...

Soooo as you remember I was heavily inspired by the song "Requiem" by the anime Tasogare Otome x Amnesia and yeah the lyrics that DO exist are equally heartbreaking with the melody!

And I found them so fitting here!

Either way Odysseus comes face to face with the essence of death and the underworld not just as a visitor but as someone who cannot go out of it again; never to see his beloved land again and be separated by his loved ones he left behind for a long time

So gradually he is being introduced to various things here and people...yup gradually meeting those that left...

Yeah the fact that souls cannot cry was just another essence of mine to show how he is no longer alive. He feels emotions but he cannot express them as he used to in one way. Just inserting a bunch of stuff here and there.

Again Perseptolis was mentioned before in my conversations with @ditoob among others. (Also Odysseus prediction on Perseptolis is kinda a wink to Greek literature how sometimes dying characters have some sort of "predicting abilities" about someone)

When Diomedes mentions "the One with Many Names" he mentions Hades. Many times in ancient literature greeks were afraid to name Hades.

And I wanted a small redemption for Odysseus and his comrades in the underworld thus inserting this. Also somehow I found that his comrades protecting him would be more impactful even than Diomedes being a protector god to him.

I wanted to give Odysseus a different perspective in the journey to the realm of the dead. I will probably make a part 3 of this but once again I wanted this chapter to kinda be able to stand on its own.

I hope you like it guys! Let me know!

[ellilyre]

When odydio fuck, both of them tend to moan Athena's name out of everyday habit and let me tell you she hates it

Odysseus : I didn't know you're homophobic ://

Athena : I hate both men and sex whether these matters are individual or linked together. Now stop blaspheming my name before l revoke your god-favoured privileges.

[simoondraws]

Little fans ✨

[hydropyro]

Ares said: “pathetic and weak like his son”

Like he didn’t run crying back to Olympus to his daddy when a mortal poked him.

[incorrecthomer]

[elianzis]

Run, he is mvp