1 The Lost Book of
2 The Odyssey
Inserted between lines 727-728 (starting after ". . .some Gorgon's staring face!") of book 11:
"And so I turned to flee back to my ship before the soulless dead overcame me, but Pallas Athena had yet other plans in mind. Gliding silently past the screaming spirits, the deathless goddess blocked my way, looking for all the world like the unlucky ghost of a young prince. I did not know her to be a god at the time, but now the telltale sparkling eyes linger in my mind. Yet who can know a god when she does not want to be known?
Although she could stop me no more effectively than the other dead could embrace me, I felt the desire to stay and speak with her. Standing proudly, her eyes glinting, she addressed me in a deep and compelling tone:
'Noble warrior Odysseus, do not depart our world so hastily! The deathless god Hades, ruler of the Underworld, desires your audience. I should not decline his hospitality, but you are wiser than that, without doubt. Come - do not look so afraid! The immortal Hades is a cold god, it is true, but he does not hasten to increase the ghostly community residing in his House.'
So she said, and I was persuaded by her cunning manner of speaking. My men, however, were not soothed by her words. They fell to wailing, clutching my knees, crying for mercy. Nonetheless, luckless as I am, how could I deny the wishes of the King of the Dead?
Pallas Athena, still in the guise of a ghost, lead us into the House of Death, my men trembling and some still racking with sobs. We tread down a cavernous hallway, built of the blackest stone and growing colder with every step. The only light was the pale shimmering outline of the guiding spirit. What seemed like many weary and ruthless lengths later, the tunnel opened into the palace of the somber god of the dead.
The palace of deathless Hades is a high-roofed cavern, strangely lit by some power unfathomable by mere human minds. It stretches in all directions, fading away into seemingly oblivion. Scattered skeletons of trees stand like silent sentinels across a dismal landscape of black rock. In the very center is seated the somber king himself, with his dread and unwilling wife as his only companion.
Upon seeing Hades, my comrades hesitated and groaned, once more fearing for their lives. Terror gripped my heart as well- I don't deny you the truth- but I gritted my teeth and summoned my famed courage, to give my men some heart. Our shadowy guide never skipped a beat, drawing us closer with silent and constant footfalls, finally approaching close enough to the elaborate thrones and dropping into a respectful kneel. We hastily followed suit, not knowing what sort of welcome we would receive, until Hades bid us to rise.
With great apprehension, I looked into the face of the somber god of the Underworld. Dark and gloomy as a winter's night, when children shiver from cold and fear as the fire slowly dies, and a relentless wind howls and beats upon shuddering walls, with naught but impending doom to meet the inhabitants upon the appearance of Dawn with her rose-red fingers. Such imagery was etched through the lines of pain and cruelty in the somber face of Hades, contrasting sharply to his frail and sallow wife, the unwilling Persephone.
The deathless Hades had turned his steely eyes to me, and in them I saw a deep loneliness and misery hidden behind walls of indifference and silence built up from eons of ruling the Dead. Pity touched my heart, for I could see that he too is unlucky, doomed by the dice of Fate to reside in the Underworld. He spoke to me, in the voice of one who has seen countless horrors through the endless sweep of time, yet one of great and undying strength to overcome these things:
'Mortals, though easily you have entered my world, there is no return through the path you have already taken. None may cross into Persephone's Grove to speak with the dead and return immediately to the living world. Lurking in wait near the shore is the blind Kylandese, a monstrous serpent with three tails and dreaded fangs sharper than any steel sword's fatal edge. She smells the curse of the dead clinging to the souls of mortals and strikes faster than even the most clever warrior can. Do not be foolish and attempt to destroy the sightless monster. There is another way. Do you see those trees, those scattered and hopeless figures who strain and crave a light that never reaches their withered branches? Within one's hollow trunk lies the fabled Sap of Purity, outlandish in the corrupt world of death you see around you. The tree itself is a gift of Demeter, the deathless mother of my beloved yet unloving wife, who wishes for her daughter to be cleansed of all deterioration of the soul, caused by her stay with me, before her return to her mourning mother in the Living World. My dear Persephone must eat but one drop of the Sap each time she ascends from the Underworld. If it is your wish to leave this place of suffering, you must determine which tree contains the Sap, for it matches all of the others in crippled stature and discouraged form. Be warned! If you should choose the incorrect tree, I will place your fates into the hands of my dreaded wife, Persephone. Though kind and gentle when she is reunited with Demeter, she is unmerciful and immovable by the tears of unlucky men, her heart is hardened from pity.'
Shaken as we were by these solemn words, a new hope ignited within me. My men fell to despairing once more, already fearfully prophesizing what terrors the awesome Persephone would unleash upon them. But I, I did not concern myself with the plotting of the deathless queen, instead inspecting the trees around me critically. Surely Persephone would not plant the life- restoring tree far from her, I reasoned, for though she is deathless, she would not spend a moment more in the Underworld than needed. In such a hurried desire to return to life, she would no more want to tread across the limitless bounds of the Underworld than procrastinate her departure from the world of death. The three deathless gods- Hades, Persephone and the still-present Athena- watched in amusement and interest as I wandered alone from my panicking crewmen to examine the nearby trees. I noticed few differences; some were taller than others, some shorter, a great many thicker or thinner in contrast to the rest.
I called this to the attention of my men, strictly ordering them to cease their mourning and instead to assist me in finding the Sap. Now, one of the younger, brash crewmen- innocent and ignorant Theryclius- shouted:
'Has even wise Odysseus lost his senses? Surely, the tree we seek is that large one in the distance! It far surpasses the rest in thickness and height. Why must we look here, near the scrawniest, most withered trees when the obvious choice is right before our eyes?'
A fair number of men nodded at this logic, logic that I knew to be a fatal error in observation. The tree in question was one I had indeed considered, and had decided against because of the very reason Theryclius defended and justified. It was far too sturdy, too healthy in appearance. How could such a tree contain an immeasurable amount of the Sap of Purity, not even hollow enough to contain the tears they had just shed over the barren ground! One good knock on the solid trunk could easily justify my calculation.
Pleading with my men, I tried to show them reason, but alas, only half heeded my words. The others, in shameless mutiny, sat by the base of the large tree and awaited the time when they would announce their choice to somber Hades. The faithful men turned to me in misery, but with a deep trust radiating from their teary faces. Such a deep hope affected me greatly, and I fell to my knees in anguish knowing that my failure would compensate their last chance to live. They watched with silent tears as I pulled at my hair in frustration, roaring in rage at my own weakness, beating my hands upon the ground.
Slowly, I regained control of my senses, shuddering with deep breaths, leaning some of my weight against a small tree next to me. I commanded my mind to think of some way to find the tree crucial for escape; need I search for hollowness? Perhaps certain patterns the branches made? Would my legendary wits fail in this final challenge?
As my thoughts raced, I was absently staring at the few blades of jade green grass growing by the roots of the tree I had utilized for supporting my tired body and defeated mind. My breath suddenly stopped as realization sunk in. Green grass. Growing out of the lifeless black stone of death!
With renewed strength, I drew myself up, standing tall, my composure completely regained. Hades stared ceaselessly at me, revealing no clues in his emotionless gaze. His dreaded wife, Persephone, shifted restlessly in her seat and finally stood up, speaking in a voice of impatience loud enough for all to hear:
'Speak, mortal Odysseus! Have you not found my mother's tree yet? So many tales are told of the famous Odysseus' endless wisdom! If truth be told amongst mortals and gods alike, you must surely have the answer to the puzzle by now. If not, perhaps you are not so godlike as you seem, and I shall take pleasure in removing any doubts of your inferiority to the immortal.'
Tactfully, I responded to the imposing Queen of the Dead:
'Honorable Persephone, you speak the truth when you say the deathless gods are superior to mortals like me. I cannot compete with you even in the least, no mortal can. However, I have chosen a tree; the one I stand next to now. Sadly, half of my men are convinced that another tree, the tall one they sit by, is good Demeter's own and they are waiting to be released back to the Living World.'
Queenly Persephone eyed me closely, judging her words before speaking once more:
'So your men have such little faith in you that they do not join you? And I do not wonder why they choose to follow their own path; look at the tree you have chosen, such a weak, pathetic little thing! Look at the other tree your mutinous crewmen chose. It is tall and strong, able to last and thrive in the Underworld. You truly believe such a pitiful sight to be a gift of my mother's? So be it!'
Seeing that I was firm in my resolve even under such enraged criticism, Hades struck both trees across the trunks with the sweep of a deadly, scythed staff. For one breathless moment, nothing happened. At last, to the utter amazement and extreme joy of the crewmen around me, a bead of pure, amber sap emerged from the deep cut in the frail trunk. Across the barren field, my mutinous friends screamed in dismay, before their cries were suddenly cut short. Even though I was elated that my judgment led me down the correct path, my heart grieved for the friends and crewmen I lost, however mutinous they were.
The remaining men lined up to take one drop of the life-restoring sap each, hastening to leave before the gods thought up a new challenge that would detain us even longer. I looked to those very gods now; Persephone appeared almost benevolent, a shadow of a smile dancing across her immovable lips, Hades still somber, yet satisfied that the man his brother Poseidon hated so much- his luckier brother, who had acquired kingship of a part of the mortal world in which the earth-shaker found contentment and power- was intelligent enough to perhaps even thwart the god who rules the seas by continuing along his journey home. Athena, still disguised as a spirit, rejoiced openly, dancing about with her eyes sparkling.
Finally, the remaining men had each taken a drop of the Sap of Purity. Stepping up to the tree, I took a bead and placed it to my lips. It tasted like nothing on the mortal world could, filling me with a new feeling of life. The cut in the tree closed itself up right before us, healing seamlessly. No sooner than this had taken place than Athena instructed us to hurry.
'In order to reach your ship, we must pass through Persephone's Grove again, where all the spirits still linger. The Sap will protect your soul from attracting the smell of death once more for only a short time. You must make it to your ship before the initial effects of the Sap wear off.'
At these words, we quickened our pace, with the Pallas Athena as our guide. Back through the long tunnel we ran, our feet never tiring with the urgency of the journey, finally reaching the Grove. Deathless Athena nodded for me to take over the lead once again as she moved to join the other ghosts, eyes glinting in farewell."
(Continue line 728 in book 11 "I rushed back to my ship…")
2 The Odyssey
Inserted between lines 727-728 (starting after ". . .some Gorgon's staring face!") of book 11:
"And so I turned to flee back to my ship before the soulless dead overcame me, but Pallas Athena had yet other plans in mind. Gliding silently past the screaming spirits, the deathless goddess blocked my way, looking for all the world like the unlucky ghost of a young prince. I did not know her to be a god at the time, but now the telltale sparkling eyes linger in my mind. Yet who can know a god when she does not want to be known?
Although she could stop me no more effectively than the other dead could embrace me, I felt the desire to stay and speak with her. Standing proudly, her eyes glinting, she addressed me in a deep and compelling tone:
'Noble warrior Odysseus, do not depart our world so hastily! The deathless god Hades, ruler of the Underworld, desires your audience. I should not decline his hospitality, but you are wiser than that, without doubt. Come - do not look so afraid! The immortal Hades is a cold god, it is true, but he does not hasten to increase the ghostly community residing in his House.'
So she said, and I was persuaded by her cunning manner of speaking. My men, however, were not soothed by her words. They fell to wailing, clutching my knees, crying for mercy. Nonetheless, luckless as I am, how could I deny the wishes of the King of the Dead?
Pallas Athena, still in the guise of a ghost, lead us into the House of Death, my men trembling and some still racking with sobs. We tread down a cavernous hallway, built of the blackest stone and growing colder with every step. The only light was the pale shimmering outline of the guiding spirit. What seemed like many weary and ruthless lengths later, the tunnel opened into the palace of the somber god of the dead.
The palace of deathless Hades is a high-roofed cavern, strangely lit by some power unfathomable by mere human minds. It stretches in all directions, fading away into seemingly oblivion. Scattered skeletons of trees stand like silent sentinels across a dismal landscape of black rock. In the very center is seated the somber king himself, with his dread and unwilling wife as his only companion.
Upon seeing Hades, my comrades hesitated and groaned, once more fearing for their lives. Terror gripped my heart as well- I don't deny you the truth- but I gritted my teeth and summoned my famed courage, to give my men some heart. Our shadowy guide never skipped a beat, drawing us closer with silent and constant footfalls, finally approaching close enough to the elaborate thrones and dropping into a respectful kneel. We hastily followed suit, not knowing what sort of welcome we would receive, until Hades bid us to rise.
With great apprehension, I looked into the face of the somber god of the Underworld. Dark and gloomy as a winter's night, when children shiver from cold and fear as the fire slowly dies, and a relentless wind howls and beats upon shuddering walls, with naught but impending doom to meet the inhabitants upon the appearance of Dawn with her rose-red fingers. Such imagery was etched through the lines of pain and cruelty in the somber face of Hades, contrasting sharply to his frail and sallow wife, the unwilling Persephone.
The deathless Hades had turned his steely eyes to me, and in them I saw a deep loneliness and misery hidden behind walls of indifference and silence built up from eons of ruling the Dead. Pity touched my heart, for I could see that he too is unlucky, doomed by the dice of Fate to reside in the Underworld. He spoke to me, in the voice of one who has seen countless horrors through the endless sweep of time, yet one of great and undying strength to overcome these things:
'Mortals, though easily you have entered my world, there is no return through the path you have already taken. None may cross into Persephone's Grove to speak with the dead and return immediately to the living world. Lurking in wait near the shore is the blind Kylandese, a monstrous serpent with three tails and dreaded fangs sharper than any steel sword's fatal edge. She smells the curse of the dead clinging to the souls of mortals and strikes faster than even the most clever warrior can. Do not be foolish and attempt to destroy the sightless monster. There is another way. Do you see those trees, those scattered and hopeless figures who strain and crave a light that never reaches their withered branches? Within one's hollow trunk lies the fabled Sap of Purity, outlandish in the corrupt world of death you see around you. The tree itself is a gift of Demeter, the deathless mother of my beloved yet unloving wife, who wishes for her daughter to be cleansed of all deterioration of the soul, caused by her stay with me, before her return to her mourning mother in the Living World. My dear Persephone must eat but one drop of the Sap each time she ascends from the Underworld. If it is your wish to leave this place of suffering, you must determine which tree contains the Sap, for it matches all of the others in crippled stature and discouraged form. Be warned! If you should choose the incorrect tree, I will place your fates into the hands of my dreaded wife, Persephone. Though kind and gentle when she is reunited with Demeter, she is unmerciful and immovable by the tears of unlucky men, her heart is hardened from pity.'
Shaken as we were by these solemn words, a new hope ignited within me. My men fell to despairing once more, already fearfully prophesizing what terrors the awesome Persephone would unleash upon them. But I, I did not concern myself with the plotting of the deathless queen, instead inspecting the trees around me critically. Surely Persephone would not plant the life- restoring tree far from her, I reasoned, for though she is deathless, she would not spend a moment more in the Underworld than needed. In such a hurried desire to return to life, she would no more want to tread across the limitless bounds of the Underworld than procrastinate her departure from the world of death. The three deathless gods- Hades, Persephone and the still-present Athena- watched in amusement and interest as I wandered alone from my panicking crewmen to examine the nearby trees. I noticed few differences; some were taller than others, some shorter, a great many thicker or thinner in contrast to the rest.
I called this to the attention of my men, strictly ordering them to cease their mourning and instead to assist me in finding the Sap. Now, one of the younger, brash crewmen- innocent and ignorant Theryclius- shouted:
'Has even wise Odysseus lost his senses? Surely, the tree we seek is that large one in the distance! It far surpasses the rest in thickness and height. Why must we look here, near the scrawniest, most withered trees when the obvious choice is right before our eyes?'
A fair number of men nodded at this logic, logic that I knew to be a fatal error in observation. The tree in question was one I had indeed considered, and had decided against because of the very reason Theryclius defended and justified. It was far too sturdy, too healthy in appearance. How could such a tree contain an immeasurable amount of the Sap of Purity, not even hollow enough to contain the tears they had just shed over the barren ground! One good knock on the solid trunk could easily justify my calculation.
Pleading with my men, I tried to show them reason, but alas, only half heeded my words. The others, in shameless mutiny, sat by the base of the large tree and awaited the time when they would announce their choice to somber Hades. The faithful men turned to me in misery, but with a deep trust radiating from their teary faces. Such a deep hope affected me greatly, and I fell to my knees in anguish knowing that my failure would compensate their last chance to live. They watched with silent tears as I pulled at my hair in frustration, roaring in rage at my own weakness, beating my hands upon the ground.
Slowly, I regained control of my senses, shuddering with deep breaths, leaning some of my weight against a small tree next to me. I commanded my mind to think of some way to find the tree crucial for escape; need I search for hollowness? Perhaps certain patterns the branches made? Would my legendary wits fail in this final challenge?
As my thoughts raced, I was absently staring at the few blades of jade green grass growing by the roots of the tree I had utilized for supporting my tired body and defeated mind. My breath suddenly stopped as realization sunk in. Green grass. Growing out of the lifeless black stone of death!
With renewed strength, I drew myself up, standing tall, my composure completely regained. Hades stared ceaselessly at me, revealing no clues in his emotionless gaze. His dreaded wife, Persephone, shifted restlessly in her seat and finally stood up, speaking in a voice of impatience loud enough for all to hear:
'Speak, mortal Odysseus! Have you not found my mother's tree yet? So many tales are told of the famous Odysseus' endless wisdom! If truth be told amongst mortals and gods alike, you must surely have the answer to the puzzle by now. If not, perhaps you are not so godlike as you seem, and I shall take pleasure in removing any doubts of your inferiority to the immortal.'
Tactfully, I responded to the imposing Queen of the Dead:
'Honorable Persephone, you speak the truth when you say the deathless gods are superior to mortals like me. I cannot compete with you even in the least, no mortal can. However, I have chosen a tree; the one I stand next to now. Sadly, half of my men are convinced that another tree, the tall one they sit by, is good Demeter's own and they are waiting to be released back to the Living World.'
Queenly Persephone eyed me closely, judging her words before speaking once more:
'So your men have such little faith in you that they do not join you? And I do not wonder why they choose to follow their own path; look at the tree you have chosen, such a weak, pathetic little thing! Look at the other tree your mutinous crewmen chose. It is tall and strong, able to last and thrive in the Underworld. You truly believe such a pitiful sight to be a gift of my mother's? So be it!'
Seeing that I was firm in my resolve even under such enraged criticism, Hades struck both trees across the trunks with the sweep of a deadly, scythed staff. For one breathless moment, nothing happened. At last, to the utter amazement and extreme joy of the crewmen around me, a bead of pure, amber sap emerged from the deep cut in the frail trunk. Across the barren field, my mutinous friends screamed in dismay, before their cries were suddenly cut short. Even though I was elated that my judgment led me down the correct path, my heart grieved for the friends and crewmen I lost, however mutinous they were.
The remaining men lined up to take one drop of the life-restoring sap each, hastening to leave before the gods thought up a new challenge that would detain us even longer. I looked to those very gods now; Persephone appeared almost benevolent, a shadow of a smile dancing across her immovable lips, Hades still somber, yet satisfied that the man his brother Poseidon hated so much- his luckier brother, who had acquired kingship of a part of the mortal world in which the earth-shaker found contentment and power- was intelligent enough to perhaps even thwart the god who rules the seas by continuing along his journey home. Athena, still disguised as a spirit, rejoiced openly, dancing about with her eyes sparkling.
Finally, the remaining men had each taken a drop of the Sap of Purity. Stepping up to the tree, I took a bead and placed it to my lips. It tasted like nothing on the mortal world could, filling me with a new feeling of life. The cut in the tree closed itself up right before us, healing seamlessly. No sooner than this had taken place than Athena instructed us to hurry.
'In order to reach your ship, we must pass through Persephone's Grove again, where all the spirits still linger. The Sap will protect your soul from attracting the smell of death once more for only a short time. You must make it to your ship before the initial effects of the Sap wear off.'
At these words, we quickened our pace, with the Pallas Athena as our guide. Back through the long tunnel we ran, our feet never tiring with the urgency of the journey, finally reaching the Grove. Deathless Athena nodded for me to take over the lead once again as she moved to join the other ghosts, eyes glinting in farewell."
(Continue line 728 in book 11 "I rushed back to my ship…")