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Along the river of woe, far from Charon and his ferring skiff, a lonesome penteconter ship tore through soul infested waters. The crew on board were Ithaca and carried the intensely calculated eyes-of-war. Despite their menacing looks, their mortal bodies were quivering; for they were in Hades. Soon enough the war boat had hit the shore. Properly docked, the whole crew piled out the ship heading towards the Asphodel Meadows.
Under the command of the cunning Odysseus, the warriors had been sent out by the awesome nymph Circe in order to seek out future sight--of a way back to Ithaca--from the blind prophet, Tiresias. In another world, Circe, fond of the men she hosted, granted the soldiers the knowledge of a ritual for summoning the dead. That ritual was performed just outside of Hades, saving the soldiers’ feeble minds and bodies from actually having to venture into the underworld. In this universe, Circe did not fall in love with the king of Ithaca, nor did she enjoy the company of the soldiers. Instead, she was filled with grief and outrage at the men who had forced themselves upon her island. Knowing Odysseus was able to outmatch herself once, she forced herself to keep up a hostess facade while the soldiers robbed her of her resources and dignity. Out of a sense of self-righteousness for her losses, she sent the men off into the dreadful underworld in order to meet Tireseas’ shade, face to face.
Within the land of the dead, the soldiers had seen unimaginable things: rivers of drinkable fire that replaced any sign of water, the bloodcurdling shrills and shrieks of undocumented monsters, and of course, the ghastly Asphodel Meadows, where the seer’s neutral spirit resided.
Under the instructions of Circe, the warriors found Tireaseas’ soul and performed a meticulous ritual in order to avoid the possibility of the wrath of a spirit. Odysseus, his second in command Eurylochus, and the loyal Perimedes gave a healthy offering of black sheep's blood to the seer, and various other liquids to calm the other spirits; while the remaining forty soldiers shunned away the dead, some of which were their lost comrades, who sought out to steal the best of the sacrifices--the sheep’s blood.
Tireaseus with his blind eyes glowing from future sight revealed in a godly tone many things to Odysseus. The most significant warning was that if Odysseus and his men dared try and survive their voyage home, they must not eat the immortal cattle of the god Helios. When the prophet’s voice stopped echoing with horrifying insight, he bid gentlemen farewell and vanished into the mindless crowd.
Odysseus was pensive, due to being filled with the blind one’s words alongside a fear for their circumstances--which grew with every second he remained in the underworld. While the Ithacan King’s attention was more so focused on his thoughts than directed toward anything else around him, the soldiers began to stir.
“This isn’t right,” whispered Eurylochus to the men, “so many of our lost comrades empty without the glory and reward they set out fighting for.”
“Not to mention the tragedy of having the lovely ladies of Ithaca waiting and ourselves without our prizes!” another soldier exclaimed.
“Truley a grim circumstance, but what is there to be done about it?” Permides glumly shrugged.
“Well…” Eurylochus pondered with his hand to his chin causing the other soldiers to stare at the man in expectancy. “Now don’t start yelling when I tell you this, but what’s stopping us from scooping up some of our poor comrades' souls and taking them with us? I mean, what’s our good captain going to do? He’s going mad without his full army, and don’t tell me it’s the underworld that’s doing this to him, because I know you all have seen the signs.”
The men looked towards Odysseus who was staring daggers into the floor, and back to the souls around themselves. Odysseus had indeed been growing distant to the men: he hadn’t bothered to explain what had been in that illusive brown sack--it had been revealed to be filled with Aeolus’ wind when the men had opened it, bringing their boat much further than ever from Ithaca: when they arrived at Circe’s island, Odysseus had been the only one to stay behind on the ship while the Ithacan soldiers explored Circe’s Island, Aeaea: not to mention how their leader barked more commands than words of genuine conversation as their journey carried on. The soldiers took in the facts, but were still somewhat unsure; but as one holler of a yes could be heard, more arose until the whole group was cheering in agreement.
“Very well then, I will helpfully guide Odysseus back to the ship while you all grab up as many of our comrades as possible,” Eurylochus commanded after the soldiers piped down. “Just remember how charoumenos our courageous captain will be to see our friends once more.” He waved them a quick salute, as strode towards Odysseus, who was currently staring at the endless array of souls in a different direction of the men.
In order to get Odysseus’ attention Eurylochus put his hand on Odysseus’ shoulder, which was covered with the worn out sleeve of his chiton. “Wise, Odysseus, while I trust you are crafting us a miraculous plan to ensure our safety home, I believe we should at least head back to the ship,” Eurylochus suggests, before reminding Odysseus that “Due to our cursedness, we mustn’t test the gods with what small mercies they have given us, as we have yet to encounter trouble in Hades of all places.”
“You are right,” Odysseus agrees, pausing. "We mustn't be as careless as we have been so far,” remembering how taunting the cyclops Polyphemus caused the gods to curse their voyage home with significant suffering and death. Odysseus pulls away from Eurylochus’ hand explaining, “I will go tell the men we are heading back to the ship.”
“Ah, but I thoughtfully already have done so to save us time, and you the trouble, ” Eurylochus explained, putting his whole arm around the captain, stopping him from walking to the soldiers. “Come now, let us go back to the ship. I can guarantee that our comrades will meet us there soon enough.”
Odysseus ignored the feeling of oddity towards Eurylochus for commanding the troops without his consolation. Instead, the Ithian king, out of tiredness from their journey and a trust in his right hand man approved of the idea, and the two began walking back towards the ship.
When the pair were a fair distance away from their comrades, everything suddenly became still as stone. The shrieks of monsters and shades, the crackling of the fiery rivers, the atmospheric rumbling, all halted their cries at once. The unnerving silence was louder than any sound the two warriors had ever heard. Odysseus and Eurylochus didn’t even bother to glance at each other, instinctively sprinting towards the men.
In the fair distance, within the Asphodel Meadows a looming but hidden presence began to make itself known. Taking off his helm of darkness, this otherworldly being casted a black look towards the Ithacans. With that powerful glare and might, it wasn’t a question of who this overwhelming being was: for it was the wealthy god of the underworld, keeper of souls, Hades.
“Who dares steal my souls?” the god of the dead interrogated with his deep volcanic voice, both physically and metaphorically looking down at the men
“W-we did your godliness,” cried the soldiers who were now down on their knees, trying their best not to shake from the gods' might.
“You dare try and take my subjects?” Hades asks more so as a statement than as a question. He raised his voice even more before declaring his jurisdiction, “For your crime and hubris, you will be punished greatly. Your eternal damnation is in Tartarus.”
“Please Hades have mercy, it was not us who planned this thievery,” yelped Polities, who despite his loyalty acted as so in a desperate attempt of survival. “It was…” he hesitated as his eyes started to water, “ Eurylochus of Ithaca, brother-in-law to Odysseus,” he sheepishly announced.
The sound of metal clanking together and the metronome-like thumping of fast footsteps ceased as Odysseus and Eurylochus halted; as they were now close enough to the other soldiers and the fearsome god to hear more than the ferocious booming of Hades’ speech. Before Odysseus could utter a word of cunningness in an attempt to change anyone’s fate, Hades lifted his large two headed spear--a bident-- and it came plummeting down onto a now flattened Eurylochus.
“Hades!” yelled Odysseus partly to gain the god’s attention, but mostly out of shock for Eurylochus’ sudden death. “Please, I know nothing of what my men have done to insult you, but I beg of you to speak with me before killing them.“
“Your ill-advised soldiers have tried to steal souls from me. Surely Athena’ champion understands that they must face their consequences.”
“Well, how about a bet?” Odysseus’ suggestion made Hades’ eyebrows shift.
“I don’t believe a bet will be enough to outweigh their punishments, but I am somewhat curious to hear your proposition.”
“Give me a task that you deem impossible. If succeed the task, my soul and those of my men still alive, will have their lives spared from punishment, and in addition we will sacrifice the richest wine of Ithaca, a dozen black sheep, and pomegranate seeds to you, once when we return to Ithaca," Odysseus proposed, adding that bit about a sacrifice to sweeten the deal.
“And what happens if you lose?”
“Lord Hades, you get the significant prize of course my beloved men, but more importantly the boast of being the one to end me, and you can damn my soul as well if you wish.”
“The king of Ithaca is foolisher than Athena gives you credit for, by believing that I would accept any deal in trade for my souls. For that, I will let Cerberus have you for dinner.” Hades whistles for his loyal guard dog and earthquake-like stomping is heard in the distance.
Suddenly the normally infertile and brittle flooring of the underworld miraculously started to bloom into the shape of another being. It was the lovely dread queen Persephone, Mistress of the Underworld.
“Stop!” her highness cried, pushing the air in front of her. “Hades dearest, like Orpheus and his wife’s soul, these warriors had but good intentions. Do not damn them, can’t you see they did it out of a love for their fellow men?”
“Persephone, they must face their consequences,” Hades reminded as if he’s told her this for many lifetimes.
“Then if not for them, accept it for me, accept Odysseus’ deal” She ignored cooing as she wrapped her arms around the king, “Be merciful, for all souls are yours in the end. Let them have the chance to earn their little freedom within the land of the living. Hades stared at his wife’s enchanting eyes and his facial features softened.
“Odysseus son of Laertes, I accept your bet,” the god sighs, petting the guard dog now at his side. “You are said to be able to bow an arrow through 12 axes, is this true?” he looks down at Odysseus.
“Yes lord Hades,” Odysseus responds with a slight hope now bubbling in his chest.
“Then your task is to bow an arrow through 12 times that amount.”
With a puff of smoke, Hades snapped into existence 144 identical bronze curved axes that stood in a line, handle in the ground and blade to the ceiling, so that the axe eyes made a neat tunnel from where Odysseus was standing. When Odysseus looked down to his feet there was also a somewhat simple recurve bow and an arrow. The king of the underworld gestured for Odysseus to begin and the Ithacan King promptly took the bow, aligned himself, and pulled the bow string back. Odysseus prayed to Athena: for her to give him her strength, power and precision. Then let go of the string.
With remarkable speed that was comparable to the likes of a peregrine falcon, Odysseus’ narrow arrow sliced through the air with a sharp whistling noise, that made even the hell hound of Hades flinch. The arrow passed through one axe eye, then ten, then soon a 100, and finally all 144. It was remarkable, considerably unheard of, even Hades with his stone still poker face seemed somewhat surprised, and Odysseus had done it. The men who had been holding their breaths let out in cries of relief and of solaced joy, some even started hugging each other. While the men cheered, Odysseus found a stray brown feather, and thanks to his keen ears, heard hidden under all the commotion the hoot of an owl. The Ithacan knew then he had Athena to thank for answering to his plea.
The king of the dead put his fist to his mouth and coughed twice to silence the men. “King Odysseus of Ithaca, you have passed this task,” Hades sullenly announced, “You and your pitiful men are free to go.”
“What about Eurylochus, the one you squashed with your mighty bidet, aren't you going to revive him?” questioned Odysseus.
“Even the wise make errors,” Hades chuckled at the prospect. “With the terms of our agreement, you requested that upon winning only your alive men would be set free from their consequences. Eurylochus is now one of my subjects,” there was a long pause, prompting Persephone to jab her arm into him and Hades to once more sigh in annoyance, “But as you have passed my task, I suppose I can provide the mercy of removing his soul from Tartarus’ pits.” Persephone nodded in acceptance.
“Now, I believe it is time for you all to leave. May your souls never return to my domain alive,” Hades stated, then snapped his fingers to avoid further conversation with the mortals.
The soldiers were transported with the god’s assistance back onto the deck of their war boat, in blue water surrounding Ithica. When the Ithaca soldiers finally docked their ship onto the lovely sand now tinted orange with the sun kissed crimson like beams of the ever so familiar golden sun, the men finally realized that despite all odds, they had made it home.