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"Polites…?" He looks around for a moment, trying to find the source of the voice. Soon, his eyes lock in on a blurred figure in the distance. He can’t see any of the figure’s facial features, but he’d recognize that headband flowing in the wind anywhere.
"Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart..."
"Polites, I'm here!" Odysseus makes his way toward the melodic voice, but finds that no matter the distance he treads, the figure appears no closer than before.
"No matter the place-"
"Can't you hear me? It's me, Odysseus!" His stride quickens, desperate to reach his lost friend, but every step he takes is futile.
"-we can light up the world, here's how to start..."
"Polites, please answer me!" He can’t tell if his misty eyes are from the fog blocking his line of sight, or from a desperation deep within. It seems that no matter how much he tries to disperse the haze before him, his vision remains clouded.
"Greet the world with open arms, greet the world with open arms..." The voice fades away, and Odysseus finds himself standing all alone.
"Polites..."
A gust of wind blows past, filling the silence around him. For a while, he can’t bring himself to move, frozen in place by the reality of his isolation.
"... Captain?" That familiar voice eventually speaks once more, from behind Odysseus, putting an end to his solitude. There’s a softness in that voice that he recognizes instantly. He turns around, surprised to find himself now face to face with his old friend. Here, even amidst all the fog, he can see every detail so clearly now.
"Polites?"
"Captain, is that really you?"
"Yes...! Yes, it's me! I'm right here!" Odysseus reaches out his arms to grab hold of Polites' shoulders, but all he manages to grasp within his fingers are the disintegrating vapors of a fading spirit. His short-lived smile quickly descends into a solemn frown, disappointment etched all over his face.
"I... I can't see you..." Polites' eyes wander, searching for the sight of his dear friend, but all that fills his vision is abyssal nothingness.
"What do you mean?"
"It's all just darkness here. There's no light anywhere. No... nothing." A silence falls among the pair for a moment. "Captain... I'm scared."
"I know... Death is terrifying."
"Death? So... you mean..." The words of explanation are on the tip of Odysseus' tongue, but his tightly pursed lips forbid them from escaping. "Right, of course," Polites continues with a feigned smile, understanding the truth of his situation without hearing another word. "Your silence speaks volumes, my friend. How did it happen?"
"The Cyclops." Odysseus swallows hard as flashes of splattered blood and panicked screams come back to mind. "It was quick. You didn't feel any pain," he lies. The memory of Polites reaching out for Odysseus as he lies in a pool of his own blood nearly makes him expel the contents of his stomach.
“So then… if you’re here…” Polites’ mind immediately goes to the worst possible scenario, but Odysseus is quick to put him at ease.
“No, no, I’m not…” Dead? “There’s no need to worry, my friend,” he tells him, offering his most sincere smile, though it’s tinged with sadness, knowing Polites will never be able to see it.
“Thank the Gods for that,” Polites smiles back anyway. “You still have to make it home, after all.”
“Home…” Odysseus’ voice trails off. “Home without you isn’t really home anymore, is it?” Though Odysseus’ remark is solemn, Polites still smiles brightly.
“My friend… You’ve lost so much…” Odysseus can almost feel a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But you have to keep going until you make it home. We're all rooting for you."
Before Odysseus can respond, the visage of Polites begins to dim.
"Wait... Polites, please, don't go!" Odysseus reaches for his friend, but his efforts are in vain.
"I'm not going anywhere." Polites places a hand over Odysseus' chest and smiles. "I'm always going to be right here." Before long, the spirit of Polites vanishes for good, leaving Odysseus alone once more.