Chapter 6: The Raid goes up in Flames

Into the great sea of glory

Did our hero go.

He was ignorant,

But by journeys end,

Would become a wise man.

For now however,

He feared for his life

As he hid aboard the ship

Of god-like Odysseus.

And as others have claimed before

Along with resourceful Odysseus

That the wind did carry them to Ismarus,

Land of the Cicones.

The child all the while staying in that barrel

Fearing the soldiers and even worse,

Being caught by them.

The men sought and found land,

That was Ismarus,

Land of the cursed and

Damned with eternal flames from raids.

The men made port,

Preparing to pillage for resources.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

The child took a peak through the creaks in the barrel

Just to see the last of the men leave

Heading up onto the main deck of the doomed ship

In order to make its first stop of many to come.

The boy hesitated,

But felt no soul onboard

And that all were outside and well away from the ship

Some staying onshore to make sure that none think wise

And try to take their get-a-way vessel.

These were no fools

For knowledgeable and resourceful Odysseus

Was among these men

And he being a mortal god

Gave him his strength,

But his mind beginning to be filled with arrogance,

Not even able to foresee or take notice

Of the poor boys soul

And of his presence aboard his very vessel.

The child we must leave for the present however,

For the muses send me into this monstrosity

Of a raid as women weep over the very

Corpses of the fallen and their fates

Of performing crude acts of loveless behavior.

Brave men forged into soldiers fall before

These cowards who rally around this mortal god

As he urges them forward to fill them full of sin

And keep them in line.

All the while an actual god watches,

Just as he did atop the hill

Back in Troy with Keres, slayer of justice.

He had a job to finish

And He would not slip from his fingers once more.

This time he would succeed to kill Him.

Snap

Whoosh

The inferno comes forth

From the very forges of hell

Sending these poor warriors to a worse fate

Then the Fates had even woven for them.

At first spark of the demonic flames,

Those cowards following brave Odysseus

Retreated back to the ship

Were the young hero was beginning to peep up

Out of the ship as he was out of his safe barrel.

Seeing that he had no time left,

The poor child dove into the hay

Borrowing in deep enough to not be noticed by any drunkard.

And onto the safe vessel these cowards ran

Wanting to go home and having their fun

Leaving behind doomed souls for

Burning Asbetos, Village destroyer

To lay claims to their souls down in Hades realm.

And off they went,

Awaiting for the rosy fingers of Dawn to grace them once more.