An infant, no older than two summers. A somber tune washed over our beloved tale, tainted by the faults of mortalkind. A tune tasting of stoney sweetness, of morning breath, and of wine. The call of avians overhead chipped away at the otherwise rhythmic slap of water on wood, creatures of flight traveling witlessly about the open skies. Odysseus, son of Laertes awoke once more. Slurred movements attestested to the fatigue resting within the Emperor's bones, lids peeling tenderly from heterochromatic orbs. Facials furled, digits rising from their previously seated position. Forearm pressed a barrier between dilated pupils and Sol, allowing hues their proper time to constrict and adapt.

  "King of Ithaca! You stir, undisturbed, even under the influence of wine? Unexpected," Cranium turned, figure scanning the visible deck. Nothing, not a soul.

  "Fret not, son of Laertes, you are not under any threat." A wheeze escaped petals, coughing up last night's drunken phlegm, as posture rose. Back pressed up against the half-wall of the ship's border, the bend of arm slung over the top.

  "Show yourself, Deity.–" Voice came out weak, and scratchy. Perhaps the celebration of yesternight had gotten out of hand.

  "Tis I, O Ulysses, Zeus' last born. Messenger of the gods, bearer of news good and bad." Orbs shook within cranium, vision bouncing about in search of the god.

  "Hermes, , what say you, man?" The gleam of well composed metals caught hues, cranium shifting. Throat cleared, figure spectating Hermes' descent from the heavens in awe.

  "A message from Athena. Nothing of grand importance, but a warning to heed nonetheless. The Pantheon schemes, old friend." A cheeky cackle escaped the deity, amused by the expression. Posture shifted, leaning warily upon the finished railings. Petals parted, though the god thought quicker."Speak not, friend. Hear me, and heed me now. You will face a grand tribulation once inside Troy, and if you wish to live evermore, do as you're told no matter the cost. That is my message, Odysseus. We await your progression, do not disappoint us."

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  And with that, the patron of thieves disappeared. The echoing sound of the god's obnoxious laugh soon washed away, drained by the sound of cluttering below the deck.

  "Odysseus! Brother, have you woken? —" Another clatter, his dear friend seemingly still under the influence. "Show yourself, Captain! I heard your calling. . . I think," A sigh left petals, escaping from the deepest trenches of his soul. *Curses be upon you, Apollo. Your sun proves everso bright, especially to that of the eye of a drunkard.*

  "Be still, Eurylochus. I called for you nay, nor do you have reason to stir so early. Though tell me, friend. Why are we anchored?" The subtle, neverending creaking of wood in motion had ceased, presence void since his awakening. The sea misted, the thick shroud concealing everything outside of a stone throw's reach.

  "King of Ithaca, brightest amongst us. And worse at holding his drinks!" The sound of creaking and clamoring items grew louder, approaching that of the opened sub-level hatch. In preparation, the Emperor fetched for a bucket. Sloshing water crossed and lapped itself within, the shoddy handle crying out with strain. "Do you not remember, Captain? The grandness of last night was that of the ages, even upon our boat of bore! For we reached —! “A hand slung over the edge of the hatch, followed by the crowning of the darker toned man. Facials turned to face his leader as Eurylochus made his way up the ladder, only to be met by the bucket of seawater. A startled yelp escaped the warrior, the hull of the bucket connecting with brows before clamoring across the deck. Frame dropped, stumbling back down the angled ladder. "Curse you, Odysseus! What justifies your attempt to end me early, man!" Despite that not being the king's intention, only attempting to sober his friend with the water itself, the outcome was hysterical nonetheless. The ruler, originally panicked by the loss of grip over the container, had buckled and fallen to that of the dampened planks. Wails and hollers of laughter broke the otherwise calm and steady ambiance of morning.

  "Eurylochus, brother! I do apologize, my grip seems to have–" Voice broke, a well humored cackle slurring into words. "–chosen to spite the likes of you!" The previously crumpled figure bent further, so that palms could meet the worn deck. Frame crawled, stature of dog-like nature, towards the hatch. A peek, hues dilating as vision adjusted to the lower light of the hull. "Eurylo- –!" A mug, discarded over the course of the night prior whipped, a mere breath away, across vision. Another humored fit broke from the king, finding the other's rightful anger laughable. A good start, to an otherwise unfortunate day. But alas, a hero needs to breathe from time to time, even if under due threat.