Chapter Text
The moon is high up in the sky, surrounded by the dim, distant glow of stars. The night covers the small kingdom. Its wispy tendrils snuffing out the light.
There is an overwhelming chill in the air. A sickening feeling of wrongness as something stalks in hallways and corridors.
Odysseus could swear he could see faint figures, mocking and threatening.
Shadowy apparitions biding their time for the perfect time to strike. They dance across the walls. They glide and flit from surface to surface, brushing him but never truly touching. Of shattered ghosts, nothing but faint echoes of something that was.
The figures play tricks with his eyes, but that is fine. In a way, trickery and mischief are what he knows best. This was familiar for a place that seems so foreign.
He walks silently through the halls.
He could feel the shift in the air. The anticipatory glint in hidden eyes. They stare at him –a mass of vicious teeth and claws, ready to rip into his bare throat.The figures quiet and they wait.
They wait for him.
Here, he is more akin to prey than predator. Of lamb to the sacrificial altar. Yet this lamb is not just soft wool and blank eyes. No, it is a facade. What they want to see, but not what he truly is. He needs only one direction, one difference, and they're dead.
They grow closer, closing him off from escape.
One touches his back and he is quick to react. He spins around and tosses the figure to the far end of the hall. It drops the sword it holds, while its comrades flee. He watches it scramble for purchase as he grips the sword tightly in his hand.
Now, it turns. The fates have been decided. He lets the vicious lust take hold of him. Odysseus nurtures that taste for blood and he wields it well. He sharpens his fangs and broadens his range. Fists at his side, as he inches closer to the cornered prey.
A wolf, ready to take the kill.
It runs and he gives chase.
The figure flits through the dark hallways. It turns and twists around corners in a mad dash to escape. A desperate attempt to live. Akin to a frenzied lamb running from a pack of wolves.
But it can't escape. He knows thess halls too well.
It will not live.
As he turns, he blocks the single window that shines in the corner. It casts the hall in darkness.
Even so, he sees it. The little rabbit scared out of its wit. It hides in the corner of the wall, with no other place to go. He could feel the terror in its black beady eyes.
Oh, poor rabbit! Surely, it is best to put it out of its misery?
He steps closer and raises the sword to the rabbit. Then, all at once, he brings down the sword in a flurry of blood red haze, and bright, scorching light.
The sword makes contact with his second-in-command's flesh and bone. The skin and muscle give way to his heart. The blood pools from the wound and he could hear the squelch of the teared open flesh. His sword pierces the heart (whether it be his or his friend's, he doesn't know). The Gods show him no mercy, Eurylochus is awake the whole time.
"Captain..?" His eyes lose their glow, turning a soft, milky white. But all he could see was the burning flash of pain-filled white. The kind that passes through your eyes as lightning scorches your skin.
Odysseus recoils away. The blood staining his hand shining bright red in the light of the red moon. His sword is still pierced through his brother's body, as if it were a statue held high by his brother's stone cold corpse. It is a reminder of what he has done.
He killed him. Oh, he killed him..
The shadows return, crawling from oceans and crevices. Eurylochus's open mouth and eyes give way to the inky black tar that spills and forms disfigured hands. The hands scrape on the wooden floor. The claw marks of their struggle (of hands desperately staving off the hungry jaws of a monster lured to light.) littering the wooden floor boards.
A thousand voices echo in his head. From loved ones, to comrades, to innocents, to a young baby boy's giggles as he is thrown off a tower. They echo in the empty, dark cavern. The sounds and screams warping into one, barely distinguishable from others.
"Captain!"
The shadows, the arms of disfigured soldiers claw to him. They reach for him, holding onto anything they could. The claws tear into his skin as the metallic tang of blood invades his senses.
"Captain!"
Greyish-black waters flood the ship, Eurylochus's dead body floats as the water rises higher and higher. The blood mixes and bubbles with the water, turning bright hot and boiling. It threatens to drown him. The claws pull him under the water. His lungs burn with the need for air.
"Captain!"
His vision blurs and there is nothing he can do but accept his fate. As the water rushes down his throat, he closes his eyes.
They tell him he is dead.
Telemachus has died.
His corpse lies in the medical ward, cold and alone. He stares at the body, lifeless eyes ignorant to the world.
He is dead.
He holds his son's cold, dead hands. He was too late. 20 years too late. Oh, his son. It was his fault wasn't it? He was gone for so long and that cost him Telemachus's life. He is dead and Odysseus killed him.
"ad–"
He laughs, hysteria clouding his mind. Because of course! Of course he killed his son.
He was already a murderer, a killer! What was one more death on his blood stained hands? Another life on his long list of victims. Of those unfortunate enough to be close to him.
"D–"
He could not even save his own son!
How befitting of him, a cold-hearted murderer.
A monster.
At the end of the day, that was all he ever will be.
"Dad!"
Telemachus shakes him awake. Telemachus? What?
"Oh Gods.. Dad, are you okay?"
He blinks wearily at his surroundings. He's sleeping in an olive tree bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets. The sun shines through the large windows, filling the room with Helios's light. Beside him, Telemachus looks on in worry.
"I'm fine.. I'm fine, Tel." He says, trying to comfort his son.
Odysseus's mind drifts back to the haze of memories and fantasies that plagued him mere moments ago. He recalls how painfully clear the moments were, how terrifying they were.
Even now, he is being chased by haunting echoes of his name.
He shivers, a full-body tremble that shakes him to his core.
Telemachus stares at him, lips twisting into a frown. Nevertheless, he makes no comment on it. Odysseus takes a moment to compose himself. He tries to bury the terror and grief that wracked him, attempts to snuff out the dim light of mourning. He pushes them away in favor of a more pressing question.
Namely, "Well? What are you doing out of bed?"
"Oh! Umm..." His son freezes in place, and he could almost swear that someone was laughing in the distance. Telemachus averts his gaze. "Well.. Mom is in the dining hall! She's waiting for you, err, for us."
He all but bolts out of the bedroom, leaving Odysseus to chuckle at his son's antics. He smiles fondly at the young man. His son never fails to bring a smile to his face.
Odysseus takes one last lingering look of their bedroom and leaves for the dining hall.
Breakfast was an interesting affair. They sat at the table, eating and talking about nonsensical topics. Telemachus would joke about various stories and things he had seen out in the kingdom. He kept making plans on returning to his adventures in the Ithacan woods, while his mother would gently remind him about his recent situation. He would sigh in exasperation when his son would make a particularly reckless decision and Odysseus briefly wonders if he got that from him. One look from his wife told him all he needed to know.
Penelope chastised the both of them when they got into a heated discussion about adventures and battle plans. He looked everywhere but his wife then, while Telemachus just laughed. "Dad!” He rolls his eyes, his son only ever seems to joke with the three of them. “You're supposed to be tougher! Aren't you the Man of the House?"
"You joke, but your mother is a Spartan. I value my life more than my title."
His son bursts out laughing again and the guards whom he have known since he was little hide chuckles and giggles.
Penelope rolls her eyes. "Yes, yes dear. Now if only your son would inherit my Spartan-ness. Maybe then you would actually rest."
His poor son could not catch a break, for after he finished he started another fit of laughs. They should probably cut this banter short before their son goes red and out of breath.
He is especially sorry to his wife for essentially ignoring her comment.
Odysseus tries to rest, he does! But there are currently much more important matters involving a person and the stabbing of his son.
Which is why he is pouring over different statements of the people who were present at the incident. It also happened to detail multiple well-wishes. Bless their hearts, they have truly grown to accept and befriend their prince. He was so scared of the people's disapproval, especially because this was right after the incident after returning, but there was no need for worry.
His son is well-loved and he is grateful.
After a few pages of reading, he spots the tell-tale glow from outside his window.
"Goddess, welcome."
Athena flies in through the window, before landing in a flurry of feathers and light before his desk. She casts a scrutinizing look around the room before it finally falls on him.
"Hmm.. I see you wasted no time. The room has already become a mess." She jokes and it brings a small smile to his face. "Well, I do pride myself in getting things done."
She moves besides him, silent and almost ghostly in manner. Athena looms over his shoulder and inspects the papers.
"In that case, why don't you regale me with what you have learned?"
The sentence brings back his frustration to the forefront. "That's the thing! The guy somehow managed to evade people!" Which is a miraculous feat. Based on what the townspeople said, he was wearing some mask and black robes. Which should have been a great lead to follow but no one saw him leave or enter! There was not a single trace of him anywhere, which was absurd!
Odysseus would have been impressed if it weren't for the fact that this was the guy who stabbed his son!
"All the people that were asked saw the same things, not a single one noticed anything different."
"That is.. unfortunate." She says and Odysseus is so close to ripping his hair out in frustration.
"Now, there is no need for that little owl. But I do believe this could pose a serious risk if left unchecked, yes?"
"Indeed, Goddess. That is why we must get this solved quickly." He replies, his nervousness leaking through each word. He sets the various papers down and turns to look at his Patron. "Though I don't feel safe having them around for it."
"I understand." She nods, lips pressed into a thin line. "In that case, I have two suggestions."
He perks up at the mention of suggestion. She moves toward the balcony and motions for him to follow.
She brings up two fingers and a heavy fog surrounds them. Once it clears, he sees a large tapestry. It is sprawled out to show the faces of men in royal uniform. Their faces are hidden and their posture straight and rigid. Athena weaves together the illusion of an army. "1. The culprit is most likely one of your men, such a disappearance could be attributed to their skills in the army–"
"–As well as how none of the people noticed a difference. Not only that but I took the time to drill the entire layout of the kingdom into their memory, noting every shortcut and hidden passage." He continues. If this was true then they were directly using the knowledge he gave them for their own benefit. It was originally to make evacuation and chasing culprits easier. Now, it seems that it was being used with malicious intent. That would also explain why the newer guards were not able to keep up, there were a hundred different passages and it was difficult to remember them all.
Athena nods in approval.
"Correct. As such, I propose a whole army audit that would be monitored by your most trusted men."
And like that, it was as if the dark room was finally opened to Helios's light. It was so simple! He should have thought of it ages ago. "During that time, I can take my family for a 'vacation'."
The tapestry around him shifts in a flurry of colors. It splits and mends back into two halves. One where three men stand before a large crowd and one where his family and a few trusted personnel are on a boat. "That was, in fact, my next suggestion."
She says, and her lips curve into a smile. "You have the proper excuse for a vacation, given the circumstances. It would be quite easy to leave a few of your best men in charge."
"And if they happened to do a full-army investigation in that time, that would not be our problem, yes?"
"Indeed."
The illusion shatters, like broken glass. It gives way to the natural fauna and the palace balcony. His features twist into a big grin.
"Thank you for your guidance, Goddess." He moves in a mock bow. Odysseus rises just in time to watch his Patron roll her eyes.
"Of course, hurry along now. I believe your family would appreciate being part of the planning process."
- - -
Penelope takes a break from her weaving to meet his husband and son's eyes.
"Well?"
"We have a plan." They say at the same time and she goes soft at the notion. Though she would love to tease the two, it was quite a serious time. So, she listens.
They sit near the window, where the sunlight shines in the room. Their bodies cast shadows on the dusty floor and she makes a note to clean the room later on.
"How about we take a family vacation?"
Oh? "What brought this on?"
Telemachus looks up at her with big, bright eyes. "Well, first, we can have some enjoyable family bonding time!"
"–and we can be safe from any potential harm." Odysseus continues. She purses her lips in thought.
That was a suitable plan for the circumstances that they are currently dealing with. Especially because if her guess is correct, then it was one of the people serving the castle. Most likely a guard, but she isn't quite sure.
Even though she would have loved to investigate hands on in Ithaca, this was significantly safer.
She sighs and stands up from her stool to head to the doorway. "Well then, we should get ready for it then. I say it would be best to leave the next day?" Preferably tomorrow, but there are limitations. "What do you say about Pylos? I heard King Nestor is eager to meet you again." She tacks on. Pylos is a large and respectable kingdom. Security can be tight, which helps their situation.
Telemachus claps his hands together, a determined shine in his eyes. “Exactly what I was thinking!”
That settles it then. They are going to Pylos.