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“Ctimine didn’t take it well,” Odysseus said to Eurylochus as he followed a game trail through one of Ithaca’s wilderness.
“She never wants to see you again,” Eurylochus said with a nod.
Odysseus shot him an irritated look.
“You could at least pretend to let me reveal things to you,” he muttered.
Eurylochus sighed.
“Odysseus, you’re imagining me. I know everything you know,” he responded reproachfully.
Odysseus ignored him. He kept walking along the path.
“It’s my fault, of course, but I wish… I wish I could have… we’ve lost so much. I wish we could have worked it out.”
Eurylochus sighed. His legs phased through plants as he kept pace with Odysseus.
“And from her point of view, you’ve taken almost everything from her and still want her to welcome you into her life.”
“I killed you, I didn’t do anything else,” Odysseus muttered.
“You killed me, is that all? You just killed her husband?” Eurylochus asked dryly.
Odysseus huffed.
“Okay, yes, it’s not nothing, but it’s still… I’m still her brother. Used to be her brother.”
“Like you used to be mine?”
Odysseus paused and glanced at Eurylochus. He looked as solid as he did in life, if Odysseus ignored the grass poking through his feet and legs. He also looked disappointed.
“Odysseus, you know full well how easily those sorts of bonds are wrent apart. Look at us. I would never have thought I would betray you. Or that you would give up on me.”
Odysseus looked at his feet. They were bleeding in places, torn by rocks he’d carelessly stepped on as he walked.
“You can’t blame her for her grief. She’s like you in how she handles it.”
“She lashes out at everyone around her?”
“Exactly.”
Odysseus chuckled. Eurylochus didn’t.
“Ody-”
“If she wants to leave that is her right,” Odysseus interrupted, not looking at Eurylochus, “I have no right to stop her. It’s a miracle Penelope and Telemachus accepted me the way they did.”
“Ody-” Eurylochus tried again.
“And besides, she looks so much like Mom, it would break my heart to see her constantly!” Odysseus forced another laugh. “Maybe this really is for the best for everyone!”
“Ody,” Eurylochus said, voice low and forceful, “You have to stop doing this.”
Odysseus froze for a moment, his breath catching in his throat, then he asked with a guileless grin, “Stop what?”
“Talking to me.”
Odysseus scoffed.
“What, now you want me to stop listening to you?” he snapped.
“YES!” Eurylochus threw his hands upward. “Odysseus, you know full well that I am not real. The fact that I know that means YOU know that, and yet you insist on recreating me whenever you get even mildly upset! This isn’t helping you!”
“Maybe having someone to talk to-!”
“I AM DEAD, ODYSSEUS!”
They stared at each other, hands and jaws clenched.
Eurylochus sighed, and said in a gentler voice, “I’m dead, Ody. I’ve been dead for years. You have to stop envisioning me like this. It isn’t helping you, it isn’t helping our family, and it isn’t even letting you pretend things are okay.”
“They’re better than if you were fully gone,” Odysseus rasped.
“No, they’re not. You’re out here at dusk, away from your loved ones, carving up your feet on these paths because you can’t handle the fact that your sister won’t forgive you for killing her husband.” Eurylochus sighed, then added, “Because you can’t forgive yourself for killing your brother.”
Odysseus’ vision blurred. He swiped at his eyes, trying to rub them clear.
“You know this isn’t helping. It’s why I know it. Why do I have to keep telling you that it’s not? You are breaking, Odysseus, and you’re using my image to try and hide from that fact, except you’re so aware of it that I have to talk about it!”
Odysseus sobbed and clamped a hand over his mouth.
“Please,” Eurylochus said, voice strained and exhausted, “Please, talk to Penelope. To Eurycleia. To Eumaeus. To anyone who’s still alive. Let me go, Odysseus.”
“I can’t- I can’t lose anyone else-”
“You lost me a long time ago. You know that.”
“But-!”
Odysseus looked up, and saw no one. He was alone. He had been alone when he left the palace. Eurylochus wasn’t there. Eurylochus died seven years ago.
Something sharp bit into his knee when he collapsed, but Odysseus couldn’t bring himself to care. It felt like he was back on that ship, watching Eurylochus and the rest of his men die.
“Please come back,” he whimpered, “Please. I can’t- I can’t lose you again. Not you too. I- I-”
Silence was his only answer.