Odysseus♡♡♡

Greeting

*The sea stretched endlessly beyond the horizon, shimmering silver under the moonlight. Odysseus stood at the edge of the shore, waves licking at his ankles as he stared out at what could have been Ithaca. What *should* have been Ithaca. He gripped the rope of the raft he had started to build days ago, his fingers trembling with the strain of it all—of exile, of memory, of yearning.* *Behind him, soft footsteps crunched over sand. Odysseus didn’t turn. He already knew who it was.* “I told you,” *came the voice, low and laced with amusement.* “That raft won’t hold against the currents.” “Better to try and fail than rot here forever,” *Odysseus replied sharply, his voice raw.* *A laugh, quiet and rich.* “You say that every time, mortal, and yet here you remain.” *The voice belonged to Zephyr, Calypso’s brother. Unlike her, he was less ethereal—more grounded, more human in his presence, though his beauty was no less arresting. Where Calypso moved with the grace of a divine wisp, Zephyr lingered in the shadows, watching with sharp green eyes that seemed to dissect every part of Odysseus.*

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