Poseidon swayed the waves with the force of a thousand winds. The salty ocean knew no limits as waves rose to god-like heights, and crashed down on Odysseus and his ship. The wood was hardly able to withstand the sheer force of the waters below him. The ship was like a wine cork in a bathtub, small and hopeless. Their masts snapped like worthless twigs, and his supplies were thrown almost as if Poseidon wanted to claim them for himself. His men were frantic, attempting to save anything they could. It was clear that the men weren’t going to emerge the storm unscathed.

“Master! What shall we do? Poseidon shows us no mercy, and we’re sure to sink!”. The men were lost, looking to their leader for guidance, the way a son turns to a mother in times of sorrow. Odysseus, himself, was concerned. These men had families, wives, children. He swore they would see their loved ones again, and he promised his dear wife Penelope that she would hold him in her eyes once more. Odysseus thought for a moment. He thought back to his home, Ithaca. The place he ruled, with his beautiful queen Penelope by his side. Odysseus longed for not only his wife, but for his son. His handsome Prince, future king of Ithaca. The day he was born was both a miracle and a tragedy, as that same day he was swept away to Troy, to fight a ten year war in Greece's name. Now he is here, standing on a ship in extremely dangerous waters, a dozen men looking to him with fear in their eyes, and yet Odysseus had no plan.

The king of Ithaca looked to the skies. Rain fell down in a never ending sheet, while storm clouds brewed like a poisonous concoction. Odysseus opened his arms, tilted his head towards the heavens, and spoke.

“Athena, my goddess, I have worshipped you all my mortal life. I beg of you, protect me and my men. We have wives and children who depend on us. Bless us so that we may return to them.” As he finished his sentence, Odysseus felt a presence. It was of another world, it was there and it wasn’t. He knew it was Athena, he knew he’d soon return to Ithaca.

“Odysseus, my child.” Athena’s voice was smooth like silk and soft like honey. It flowed through his veins and washed over him. It gave him the feeling of serenity, as well as a hint of fear. “You’ve traveled far, but you have yet to learn. You’re pride still hurts your soul, and this fatal flaw is what prevents you from returning to your homeland. In order to return to Ithaca, you first must be educated on your selfish ways. I will send you to a place where you may possibly be healed, but this place is full of grave danger. Use your heart, but more importantly, use your head”. And just like that, Athena returned to her home, leaving the men to survive.

“Men! Grab all supplies you can hold, and prepare for a tough fight! If Poseidon chooses to show us no mercy, then we shall show no fear!” The men scrambled, grabbing food, water, and clothing. Odysseus looked to his left, just as the largest wave came crashing down onto ships hull. That’s the last thing Odysseus remembered.

Sand. Odysseus felt sand. He slowly opened his eyes, and looked at his surroundings. He  and his men were washed up on a deserted beach, there ship nowhere to be found. Odysseus was first worried. Why was he on this strange island? What about Athena’s plan? Suddenly, he heard the noise of a bird. Flying high in the skies was an owl, Athena’s symbol. Odysseus knew what he had to do. He went around, awaking his men and gathering the remaining supplies. There was little food, but every man had saved a cloak for themselves. As they draped themselves in the fabric, everyone finally got the chance to see the strange island.

It was a forest, with oak trees littering the island with buds, as it was a warm spring day. Beyond the beach, the forest floor was rich with blooming pink flowers, as were the tree branches. Odysseus could see a mountain range in the distance, but the most interesting thing about the island was the smell. It was like rotten rubber, with a hint of liquor. Most of the men didn’t mind it, but a few wanted to investigate the smell. Chrysaor, one of Odysseus’s greatest men, spoke up. “Oh great Odysseus, we’ve been traveling for so long. All we ask for is some wine to lift our spirits, then we shall rebuild our boat and continue home. If someone on this island is generous enough to share their wine, then we shall accept”. Odysseus wanted to protest,  but he agreed with them. Their journey had been hard, and a drink would do everyone good.

They took what they could, and began to move through the forest. Nobody said it, but it reminded them all of the forests in Ithaca. As a boy, Odysseus would play with his father, running past trees, jumping over roots. It heavied his heart that his son, Telemachus, was raised by maidens and servants. The boy was a teenager by now. Odysseus wondered what he looked like, whether or not the boy was happy. Just as he had this thought, he was distracted by his new surroundings. The forest had morphed in a swamp like place. Vines crawled towards the sky, and mud seeped into the soldier's shoes. Despite all this, the smell of wine was greater than ever. The men conversed, discussing how they could try to get some liquor from whoever occupied this curious swamp.

Suddenly, a deep and powerful voice bellowed from the depths of the swamp. “Who are you stranger? Why do you trespass on my land? Do you not know who I am, not the horrors of this island?”

The men were very frightened. They couldn’t see who was speaking. It seemed to be coming from every direction. Odysseus took lead, and spoke back to the creature. “ We are soldiers, returning home from the ten year war in Troy. We only seek hospitality, and if you’re ever so gracious, some wine.” There was a pause that lasted both a second and a year, before there was a rustle to the right of the men. A man appeared, short in stature, with dark hair and brown eyes. He seemed slightly reserved, but overall safe. He spoke with confidence, and seemed sure in his words. “ I do not socialise with men, that's why I'm here in my swamp. A long time ago, man was rude to me, I specifically remember what happened….”

The man kept talking, and talking, and talking. It seemed like he had never said a word before, and all those syllables were finally falling out of his mouth. Odysseus was amazed, he was talking about everything and nothing. Odysseus wanted to know more about why this being wouldn't stop, so he decided to investigate.

“Man, although we all find your stories interesting, we haven't even had a proper introduction. I am Odysseus, king of Ithaca. I ask of you, what is your name?”

The talking ceased, and the man thought for a moment.  

“ I am Lord Phelan the Malodorous. I reside here, in this bog. I've called this place home for a while, as this place is ancient and….”.

He was doing it again.

Odysseus was extremely annoyed, as were the rest of his men. They tapped their feet, twiddled their thumbs, and some rolled their eyes. Although he did have a plan, Odysseus chose not to tell his men. He was certain he could execute it himself, and he didn’t want his men interfering. Odysseus took a single step closer to the never quiet Lord Phelan.

“Do tell, Lord Phelan, about the name of this island and how it was selected.”

Lord Phelan was glad to talk even more, and launched into a description about the island. “ This is the Isle of Sabis, named after an ancient people, so ancient that they actually…..”

Odysseus was pleased, he had figured out the secret to Lord Phelan.

He always speaks of the past.

No matter what the topic, no matter who asks, he always talks about things of a previous nature. Odysseus turned to his men with the intention of sharing his knowledge, but was surprised to find his men huddled in a circle, quietly whispering to each other. As he approached them, the circle broke, and Maddock, Odysseus’s finest soldier, brushed past him and went to Lord Phelan.

“Listen here you irrelevant lord! Either give us your food and spirits, or we shall steal them from you, and leave you here in this horrendous home fit for a Lord like you! Only a small, weak link like yourself would call this place home!”

For quite possibly the first time ever, Lord Phelan the Malodorous was completely speechless. But he was more than speechless, he was furious. “HOW DARE YOU CALL ME SMALL AND WEAK! I AM THE MOST FEROCIOUS MONSTER ON THIS CURSED ISLAND! You, dumb soldier, have made a grave, grave mistake. You want food, you want wine, then so be it! You’ll get your wine.”

The very angry Lord whistled, and the vines around Odysseus and his men came to life. They wrapped around their torsos and limbs. They didn’t have murder as an intention, but instead seemed to be traveling away from Lord Phelan, who (Odysseus thought) had a devious smirk on his face. Odysseus wanted to wonder where the magical vines were taking him, but the vines had another plan, and they knocked each of the men into a tree, rendering them unconscious.

The men were extremely disoriented. They all woke up no where near the forest, the vines having retreated to their nauseating home. Odysseus and his men didn’t even appear to be on the same island. The desert around them seemed to go beyond the horizons. The only landmark was right next to them, a cave with a jagged entrance. Slowly, the men regained their bearings, and with that, their sense of smell. The whole atmosphere smelled of the most delicious food. It seeped into their nostrils and reminded them exactly how long it had been since they ate a warm, home-cooked meal. They needed to know, where was this smell coming from? The men used their heads, and they all realized the smell came from the ominous cave. They all looked at each other, and all silently agreed. They didn’t want to eat, they had to. It wasn’t a matter of wanting to lift their spirits. If they didn’t eat soon, they would most definitely starve. Odysseus and his men all stood, and slowly made their way to the cave, weary of what would be inside.

The cave was mainly dark, with the only light source being the sun behind them. However, the smell of food became greater and greater the further they went into the cave. As they continued to walk, a shadow slowly formed on the cave walls. The men turned a corner, and saw a great cauldron over a large fire. The walls had strange inscriptions on them, and, behind a large rock, a person moved around, looking for something. Odysseus spoke up, “Excuse me, humble man, but my soldiers and I have traveled for a great time and a long way, if you would be so kind as to share some food with us, we’d be forever grateful.”

The man stopped whatever he was doing. Slowly, he turned around, and Odysseus realized he was actually a she. “Oh, um….uh...m-my apologies, ma’am, I, uh-I thought you were a-” The woman raised her hand to silence Odysseus, and he actually looked at the woman's’ face. It was slender, with brown eyes and an average nose. The standout piece was her hair. It fell in thick curls around her cheekbones, brown with light hints of blonde, as though it was kissed by Helios. The woman noticed the men looking, and reached up to touch her golden hair.

“I’ve always thought it to be my best feature, but I’m sure you trespassed into my home for a different reason. Introduce yourself, stranger.” Odysseus was more than shocked at how blunt the woman was, but he respected it.

This personality reminded him of his wife Penelope. He recalled, the night they met. It was a town wedding, and everyone danced and sang. The newlyweds had disappeared long ago, and the town drank and laughed on that warm summer night. He was with friends, standing in a circle. A few left to talk to the maidens of Ithaca, but most stayed put, afraid to seem arrogant and drunk in front of the women. Odysseus stood, laughing, when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned to see a tall woman in blue standing behind him.

She had soft blue eyes, and freckles littered her cheeks. She had bright, fiery red hair that was messily piled atop her head. Before Odysseus could comment on her beauty, she spoke to him in a voice that reminded him of the sea, calm but powerful. “Excuse me Odysseus, prince of Ithaca, but I am Penelope. I heard you laughing, and it was a strong laugh. My grandmother always said a man with a strong laugh was a good man, as he was full of joy and life. Odysseus, before this dreamy night ends, will you dance with me under the stars?”

Odysseus fell in love that instant. This woman, from her character to her spirit to her eyes, was angelic. The way she moved, the way she spoke, was like gold dripping from the neck of a god. Aphrodite had nothing on her beauty, Athena had nothing on her grace, and Artemis had nothing on her confidence. She carried herself like an arrow flies through the air just after it left an archer's bow, with serenity and might. It was like she knew of her past, present, and future.

She was perfection.

Odysseus agreed, and oh how they danced. They danced and danced and danced some more, feet rising and falling from the ground below them. Penelope laughed and swayed to the band. She danced the way wind blows, flowing all around Odysseus with grace and joy. They were married in the fall. Standing before this strange woman in this strange land, Odysseus paused to send his love home, to Ithaca, to Penelope. Refocusing, he turned back to the woman.

“I am Odysseus, King of Ithaca. These are my soldiers. We’ve journeyed far, and we ask for your hospitality and a meal, if you are so gracious enough to do so.” The woman grinned, and opened her arms. “Why, of course! Anything for the soldiers protecting Greece. Please, do sit, and mind the mess, I’m hard at work on this spring day.” Odysseus and the men sat, gently gazing at the writing's on the wall. The woman noticed them looking, and explained. “I am attempting to discover a new language. One involving numbers, letters, and shapes. It’s a lot of work, but I’m willing to do it for the sake of future generations.” She looked at her own writing, seeming proud of the work she was attempting to do, then she caught herself. “Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself. I am Queen Maria Khoury, ruler of many lands. Here, take these bowls,” she came around, handing each of the men a simple clay bowl, “I’ll come around with the soup. I hope you like it, it’s one of my very special recipes”.

She came around with the cauldron and, one by one, spooned a reddish soup into their bowls. Odysseus was first, and he raised the bowl to his lips. The soup entered his mouth, and he felt bliss. It was warm and creamy, it rushed through him in the most mystical way. He looked around at his men, who all had looks of joy on their face, and knew they felt the same thing. He turned to the queen, “Oh humble Queen, what is in this delicious soup? Never have I tasted such elegance in an item of food before.” The Queen smiled. “It’s a recipe from my homeland, here, have some more.” She gently refilled Odysseus’s bowl, and all his other men soon followed suit. In ten minutes, Odysseus had drank six bowls of soup. He felt dreamy, sleepy, and a little weak. The Queen was chatting with another soldier, but Odysseus wanted more soup. Rather than interrupt their conversation, he went to the boiling cauldron and served himself. As he peered down into the red soup, he saw something. Something floating.

Odysseus wondered what it was. Maybe it’s one of those special ingredients, the one’s from her homeland, he thought. He thought back to how Penelope loved to cook, but never thought she was good at it. “My mother was a bland teacher. She wouldn’t even teach me the names of the spices!”, she always said. Oh, how she would love a gift like this, a foreign spice for her own soups and stews. So, using his bowl, Odysseus scooped out the mysterious  food from the soup.

It looked like a root, kind of. It was odd though, it was a vibrant orange. It smelled of peppermint and lavender, with a hint of cinnamon. Odysseus thought hard to what it could be. His mother had had a garden, and she loved to show him which plants were good, which plants were bad, and which ones were deadly. “It’s Astrantia, found deep in the forest of my homeland.” Odysseus turned, and Queen Khoury was behind him. Behind her, his men seemed a little out of it, laughing to themselves or with each other. “I heard from some traveler that your people use it in medicine, something for children.”

Odysseus’s stomach dropped. Oh God, he thought, How did I not recognize this smell? This childhood smell that no one longed for.

Lithium.

Odysseus remember lithium from his childhood. It was distributed to naughty children so they’d sleep through the night. In large doses, however, it was lethal. He truly looked at the queen. Her eyes had a devious nature. His men were slipping farther and farther away. It was worse than the land of the lotus eaters. Only a few more bowls and they would be completely paralyzed, defenseless against whatever the queen had planned. “Don’t worry”, she said with a sickening sweetness in her voice, “your brains will be put to good use. It won’t even hurt...that much”. She went around, behind the area where she was when the men first entered the cave.

“Please Queen Khoury, what do you have planned? Why must you torture my men?” Odysseus was horrified. If he were to  die before his time, he didn’t want it to be in a damp, gross cave.

The queen looked at Odysseus with no sympathy in her eyes. “Odysseus, King of Ithaca, you are known throughout Greece as an extremely wise man. To put it bluntly, I need your brain. My language is almost complete, and now I need test subjects. You will stay with me in this cave, practicing my language until the end of your days.”

By now, the soldiers were listening in, and they were terrified. They wanted nothing more than to go home, and the mere thought of being trapped in a cave forever was worse than any perils they had faced before. They looked to Odysseus, needing him to save them like he had so many times before.

Odysseus thought. He thought long and hard about what he could possibly do to sway the queen’s opinion. “Please my queen. We have families, children. Have you no sympathy for Greece’s youth? We have wives, too. They long to see their husbands after years of a treacherous war.”

At the mentioning of a lover, the queen’s demeanor changed. “All of you have wives? Odysseus?” Odysseus was pleased, he seemed to be getting somewhere.

“Her name is Penelope. She has fiery red hair, and gorgeous blue eyes. She’s confident and strong, yet graceful and calm. She sees the world the way we all wish to, as a bright, vibrant place. The night we met, before she spoke, I knew someday I would slip a ring on her finger, and call her my own.”

Odysseus meant every word he said. He truly loved his wife with a never ending flame of passion. The queen seemed oddly interested in Odysseus’s story, and she was deep in thought when she spoke. “You’ve been traveling for many a year, and I know your wives miss you.” She paused, hesitant to continue. She took a few steps forward and placed her hand on Odysseus’s shoulder.

“Go home. You’re wives need you. There’s a man two miles east of here, and he will help you. Just be polite, and he will give you the world. You need to return home, now go!”

Odysseus and the men were shocked. Just minutes ago, she planned on holding them hostage, and now they were free. Odysseus knew he was cunning, but even he was surprised with himself. The queen looked like something inside her snapped, like she was heartbroken.

Before leaving, Odysseus just had to ask, “Gracious queen, thank you for freeing us, but why do you do so?”

The queen looked in Odysseus’s eyes. She seemed to be imagining they were someone else's. “I was not born a queen, but married to a king. He is in other lands, tending to the sick and wounded. He’s been gone for 21 years, and everyday I think of his eyes, his laugh, the joy he gave me. I try to distract myself with my work, but one cannot hide from truth: I love my king, and without him, though I act strong, I am weak. No wife should be forced to sit alone, wondering if her husband shall ever return. I love my husband they way your wives love you, and they deserve to see you after so long.”

The men were absolutely speechless. Odysseus felt more than speechless, he felt guilty. The woman he loved was sitting home alone, wondering if her husband was even alive. The king of Ithaca thought back to the night he first met his queen. He remembered the smell of summer air, the joy that infected everybody, making them love life, even if it was just for that one night. He remembered Penelope, standing there, like an island in the craziest, prettiest ocean. How she danced, how she held her future husband. Odysseus wondered how Queen Khoury had met her king. He felt so bad, looking at the woman. She was close to crying. Odysseus pulled her in, hugging the woman who only wanted to hug another. She stepped away, looking at Odysseus the way a mother looks at her son who is leaving for war. She turned around, not being able to bear another second of such emotional pain. Odysseus gathered his men, and they walked out of the cave, leaving a lone wife to her anxious thoughts.

They followed Queen Khoury’s advice, traveling east until they saw a massive oak tree. It was the size of a mountain, and littered in front of it were random items. Bottles, scrap metal, among other things. As they got closer, they saw that the tree had a small door at its base. The men were not scared, as they had already faced so much on this island. Odysseus took a step forward, and knocked.

“Come in, come in, whoever it is. I’m to the left, behind the machine.”

The men wandered in, and were greatly surprised. All around them were machines, tables, and potions. It was like a junkyard, but smelled of plants. There were shelves to the right, and to the left, a hulking machine whirred and sputtered. A voice came from behind,” Yes, over here, what do you need?” There was only enough space for one man, so Odysseus left his men in the workshop, and headed behind the strange machine. He saw a small pair of feet sticking out from underneath, it was a man, lying under the machine.

“Pardon me sir,” Odysseus began,” But my soldiers and I washed up on your island, and our boat is now at the bottom of the sea. We need boats to return to our homeland. If you are so generous, could you help us?”

The man slid out from under the contraption. He was normal enough, with darker hair and a small frame. He stood, oil and grease scattered on his legs. He was happy, too,” Why of course! Soldiers deserve special treatment. I have just built a small boat, fit for a dozen men. It lies on the other side of my tree, on the shore. Feel free to call it your own.” The man stuck out his hand. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I am Archduke Amrich, builder and potion-maker. May I ask who you are?

Odysseus was stunned. The man was so friendly. “I am Odysseus, King of Ithaca. Thank you so much for your generosity. It truly is greatly appreciated. Would you like to meet my men, they are-”

Odysseus was interrupted by a loud crash, coming from the main space. Both men rushed out to see two of Odysseus’s soldiers, Damasko and Calchas, standing over a broken potion bottle, the liquid seeping into the dirt.

Amrich’s whole appearance changed. He was furious, screaming at the men, “You FOOLS! That potion took 17 years to make, it was irreplaceable. Odysseus, this act is unforgivable!”

Calchas tried to redeem himself,” It wasn’t me kind man, I am innocent! Damasko is the guilty one!

“I am not!”, screamed Damasko,” You are only trying to place the blame on me! Odysseus, it was Calchas!”

Archduke Amrich was beyond fuming mad. “I DON’T CARE! ALL OF YOU MUST BE PUNISHED FOR THIS ACT!” He rushed over to the potion shelves, taking a bottle of what appeared to be green fog, and popped the cork. The fumes filled the cavern, and before he could retort, Odysseus was lying on the ground, unconscious.

Odysseus awoke, dazed and confused. It took him a moment to regain control, and he realized he was tied to a chair, arms bound at his side. He looked up to see his men in the same state. They sat in a circle, terrified. Suddenly, a loud voice boomed from behind Odysseus. “So, you dare to upset the Archduke Amrich? Well then, you shall have to feel my wrath.” A large man stomped into the center of the circle. He was at least six feet tall, with strong arms and a mighty glare. “I, Thane Thomas, am ruler of the Isle of Sabis. As of right now, all your supplies are destroyed, including your adorable little cloaks. I have claimed them as my own, and you shall never see them again.”

He laughed a menacing laugh, and the men looked at each other. Odysseus chose to speak up. “Thomas, why do you do this? We merely want to get home, to our families, to our wives. Won’t you just let us do that?”

Thane Thomas took three monstrous steps forward. He sliced the ropes from Odysseus, freeing him, only to push him to the ground. “You puny man, you know so little. I am the greatest mortal to live. Why, I am basically a god! You shall obey me, and I say that you will never see the light of day again!”

As Thomas said these words, a flash appeared, and there stood Hermes, messenger of the gods. “Thane Thomas, there are intruders on the south coast, and they have advanced weapons. Weapons that spit fire and metal! Come quickly, or all on this island will perish!” Hermes flew out the front door, past Amrich, who had been observing this whole ordeal.

Thane turned to Amrich. “Get your weapons and come with me. Lock the door behind you.” As Amrich did so, Thane Thomas turned to the prisoners. “Looks like it’s your lucky day. But don’t be tempted, we will know if you escape.” And with that, Thane Thomas walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.

Odysseus and his men looked at each other, then burst out laughing. How dumb! Their captor left them here, with one man free! At lightning speed, all the men were free and climbing out a window. They could see Amrich's boat, and they jumped in, and took off. Odysseus looked back to see Thane Thomas on the shore. He was screaming, and Odysseus turned back, focusing on the water in front of them, and trying to put the last seven and a half hours behind him.

Odysseus was glad to be back on the open waters. He thought back to all the people he met on the Isle of Sabis, from Phelan to Khoury to even Thane Thomas. They all had a major impact, but queen Khoury was the one who spoke the strongest. The woman wanted nothing more than her husband, and her emotions must have been mirroring Penelope’s. He thought not only of his family, but of his home. The rolling grass hills and sand beaches of Ithaca. He thought back to what Athena had said, how he still had so much to learn. Odysseus longed for home. Yes, he missed his wife, but Ithaca was what he missed the most. His kingdom had been his first love, and he dreamed of the day he would be able to pass it all onto his son, Telemachus. Thus, Odysseus, soldier, King of Ithaca, husband, and father, sailed forward across the open sea, dreaming of Penelope, Telemachus, and his first love, Ithaca.

The End.