The Tale of Nobody

by friednrichtraum

Summary:

The Odyssey and it’s the same but Cassandra is believed by Nobody so it’s not.

Notes:

• For timeyblimeywimey.

DISCLAIMER: While it is a rewriting, I tried to stay as close as possible, when possible, to the work. I do not own the characters, nor do I own the story.
If interested, here are the translations I have used (both for research and rewriting purposes):
Homer’s Odyssey: https://dn721801.ca.archive.org/0/items/hmrio/The%20Odyssey%20by%20Homer%20-%20translated%20by%20Robert%20Fitzgerald.pdf

Homer’s Iliad:
https://www.gutenberg.org/files/6130/old/6130-pdf.pdf

Virgil’s Eneid:
https://www.gutenberg.org/files/22456/22456-h/22456-h.htm

Also crediting the tumblr post on which I based my rewriting:
https://www.tumblr.com/elidyce/188306938513?source=share

I was inspired enough I wrote a finished stuff (a miracle), though I can never be satisfied with my writing-
Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think about it! :D

Chapter 1: Troy

He could not believe it had worked. They had heard some kind of ruckus behind the wood, something about fire before the horse had been ultimately pushed inside the city that night. Troy had acclaimed it. Fools. Odysseus stands around all those fools, while their beloved city is sacked by the men of Agamemnon and so many others. He sheds his own share of Trojan blood, pushed in the direction of a building, with the idea that he would maybe find and kill some royals, even vanquishing the one king Priam himself. Many more Trojans - civilians and defending soldiers lacking their armour - fall on his path. He stumbles in front of a heavily guarded chamber, a contrast to the resting soldiers he had met to this point. He had been expecting many scenes to unfold before his eyes before stepping into the room, but none match the reality that he witnesses.
His vision is filled with the scene of a young girl tugging wildly at her curly Venetian blonde hair. She is pacing and rambling aggressively around the chamber, her eyes wide open, mad.
« I told them… I warned them… But nobody ever believes me !.. »
Stunned by her mad ranting, Odysseus only starts walking again in the temple’s direction after stopping for more than he wants. The eyes on her round face do not seem to notice him, though they pass in front of me as she continues pacing.
« It’s so much more than they think… Nobody can believe me... »
He is unsure why he has not already slashed his sword through the child already. Not by fear of remorse, that he knows. The lack of knowledge of a reason does not make him move much more.
« They are as doomed as I am… They will regret it…
- Regret what? »
At his own words, Odysseus realises it is probably curiosity that stopped him so far.
The chubby girl stops in her tracks, frozen in place, before slowly turning her head to take in the sight of the bloodied Ithacan - enemy - soldier in front of her.
« What?
-I’m asking, Regret what ?, he asks again carefully. He would rather have an answer.
You know what, don’t even bother. You won’t believe me either. Nobody does., she sighs, now wearing a defeated face. She sits on the floor where she stood.
-Try me still, I’m Nobody. »

The dubious look she gives him as an answer is enough to make him sweat a little. The situation is ridiculous. She breathes, seemingly thinking about what she has to lose as she talks to an enemy while the rest of his comrades sack her city. Odysseus tries again.
« Well? Fill me in.
- Fine., she sighs again. « I knew you were in that wooden horse. All of you. I tried to warn them, they all laughed at me. They even stopped me when I went to take care of that cursed idol myself with my torch.
Hah!
-Ha indeed. But this shit war is just the beginning. And for everyone! It is cursing us all, the Gods are cursing us all. Probably for Pâris. Have brothers, I swear. (Not you Helenus, you good twin.)
When you say everyone…
-I mean everyone ! she starts yelling in her ranting. I’m doomed to meet my end as a slave to the enemy and by the hand of his wife and her lover, who will even later meet their own by the ends of her own children. My cousin will end up fine in the end, though he will get his share until it comes. Mother will be struck by mourning. But our enemy won’t be safe either. Agamemnon as the first example, as I already told.
Oh?
-Many more will die, many beloved ones from both sides will be lost. And those that survive the strife, will meet it later. One will wander ten years over the sea, losing the men with him, before meeting his wife and son again in Ithaca.

Ithaca, you say?
-Ithaca. All of that for Helen.
Struck by the revelation, the one that also goes by the name of « Nobody » for tricks, past and possibly future, sits with her words.
« Who are you?
- How could it matter to you? You don’t believe me.
I do, actually., He stares at her with intent and interest in changing his possible fate. Now tell me who it is prophetising me ten years of wandering after I already spent so many years on a war I have no care for besides spending blood.
-You’re willing to put work into changing Fate?
I am Nobody, after all.
-What.
I went by Nobody before, I’m sure I will again, and so I am right now.
-Your name is Nobody?
It is right now. Tell me more about the man getting lost on his way back to Ithaca. But first, tell me your name.
-I, she hesitates but decides with defeat. I am Cassandra. My brother is the reason, if I’m accurate, you are all fighting for our death here. That at least, they believed it.
Pâris?
-Himself.
So you are the daughter of the king. Priam.
-And his queen, Hecuba, yes. I’m surprised you did not realise it earlier though, I am quite heavily guarded otherwise, aren’t I?
I guess so, I was not looking for much reason to kill them anyway.
-Ah. I’m unsure whether I should thank you for that or flee.
If you tell me how to escape my fate, I would think about leaving with you alive.
- I doubt anyone will care to be honest… They already put me in there thinking I was mad. If I am leaving with you though, I have a favor to ask.
I guess we're at this point, huh. Shoot.
- Let me warn Aeneas. He won’t believe a word I say about much of his future but I can at least help my cousin flee Troy a bit earlier to maybe save him some trouble. I guess I will… come with you after that.
Deal done. Odysseus extends his hand to the young girl in front of him. Great making business with you, daughter of King Priam and Queen Hecuba of Troy, sister of Pâris..?
-Cassandra. Making a deal with Nobody.
Odysseus. I would rather my allies not call me Nobody. »
A dumb-founded smile finds its way onto Cassandra’s face. While seeming calmer than when the man from Ithaca first saw her, she does seem to also less and less believe what is going on around her. Her eyes stay stuck with disbelief on the older man silhouette in her door as she shakes his hand.

 

Covering for the prophetess, Odysseus sheds the blood of many more Trojans on the way to husher her cousin to leave. Though she does not tell him all that is on her mind, she forces Aeneas out of the city to a safer location than this bloodshed with his father and family. The one from Ithaca stands next to her, in disbelief from his own actions.
As the ruckus and chaos of the sack slowly come to an end in Troy, he hides with Cassandra in a quiet place until a plan is made. What they can agree on is that Odysseus has to fight for the end of the war, and that Cassandra needs to leave quickly. The war needs to end fast.
« If I kill King Priam…
-Don’t kill my father!
How close are you with Pâris then?
-I just know he is my brother from my own prophecies… But don’t kill him either?
And if I just make sure he is, killed that is? Would you forgive that?
-You mean, if he returns Helen?
He won’t do that, even someone as young as you must know that.
-Fine.

After this, Odysseus goes back into the fight. Cassandra starts praying to Apollo for the enemy, for her own life. She does not trust him with it fully either, but he has not tried to take it, so far, and has been quite, surprisingly, trustworthy. She does not have many options anyway; the others on the enemy side are, well, her enemies, the people of Troy have no trust in her words. Odysseus from Ithaca it is.
He returns at night.
« Will you tell me more about my fate?
-The one of the man from Ithaca?
Yes. What makes it that I wander for so long?
-The Gods.
Which ones? There are many.
-Well…
I cannot have angered all of them, no one has before.
-Well, you have angered many. You will harm a son of Poseidon, using the same name you did to counter my prophecy, and invoke his wrath and curse you with it. He alone will slow your journey a whole lot.
Okay, so, no killing a son of Poseidon. Any details on who it will be?
-Just avoid harming all of them, I’m sure their precise identity won’t change your fate much, so just do not.
Anything else?
-When the God of Winds lends you a precious gift, do not fall asleep and leave its use to the greed of men: use it as soon as you can. You will be led years away otherwise. The rest are out of most of your control but one thing is clear: follow the Gods rules. Playing will not help you as much as you think. On the contrary even.
I guess I will have to count on you for the rest, then.
-Are you taking me to Ithaca?
We will see.
The next morning, it is found the odd alliance slept even more oddly through one of the important events of the war: Pâris is dead. Helen has so far not been found by anyone but is believed to have been devastated by the news. It is unsure whether she will return to Sparta.

 

A truce is called, though Cassandra is searched through the palace after the bodies of those guarding the chamber are found. Odysseus and her are long gone by then, followed by the King of Ithaca’s men and many others, part of the miscellaneous kingdoms allied on the Greek side. Cassandra’s presence is not questioned, if even noticed.
She learns Aeneas has long left Troy following her visit. Arriving in front of his fleet, the King consults her again as to where to go.
« Trust yourself for now. I will advise in time. »
It is told between the troops that the short young girl the King found during the sack of Troy is now his most trusted advisor.

Chapter 2: Odyssey

Following Cassandra’s first advice and warnings, Odysseus finds his first obstacle on his journey back. The boats, carried west by the wind, arrive on the far shore of the coast of the Cicones. In Ismaros, the seer stays hidden on the boat as the men stay true to themselves, storming the place and killing all those they fought. Goods stolen, women enslaved, all shared as equals, the King then asks for the fleet to lift the anchor. But mutinous, the troops get drunk on wine, feast on sheep and cattle, celebrating, oblivious to the few fugitives calling out for the help of the main force of Cicones. Soon enough, the merry party-goers met doom in the form of an entire - particularly well-trained and competent both on their horse and on foot - army arriving to chase them out, if not decimate them, at dawn. Odysseus’ fools still make a fight of it, but far outnumbered they soon find themselves backed into the ships on the beach. Many Greek men fell that night. Six benches on each ship were left empty by evening. The fleet finally ships away from its death, after a shipmate from each crew had raised thrice a cry for each poor ghost killed on the field by the Cicones.
A storm rouses in the north, no doubt sent by the lord of clouds himself. The ships meet its squalls with force, their bows plunging under the winds and the sails cracking and lashing out strips. They see death in the fury of this god-sent storm.
Motivating the troops, Cassandra reminds their King that it is not here they will meet their end; the yards are dropped, the oars unshipped and pulled for the nearest lee.

Sick at heart and tasting their grief, the Greeks lay offshore for two long days and their following nights. A third Dawn came, with waves in smooth and shining ringlets. They put back up the masts and haul sail before finally resting, finally letting the steersmen and the breeze take over.
Odysseus lets himself get confident in a soon and safe return home, remaining oblivious to the young seer’s sour expression as they come around Malea. Lead astray from their route and out on the sea by the current, the fleet is driven by a north-born gale past Kythera. They drift for nine more days out on the teeming sea facing dangerous high winds. They reach the coastline on the tenth day. All ships’ companies assemble for lunch after their arrival. Odysseus chooses and sends two men and a runner to learn about who occupies the land they anchored at. They come to meet with the Lotus Eaters, living off of the flower of the same name. They show no wish to harm Odysseus’ men, but those of the latter offered the honey-sweet Lotus plant by the locals then no longer cared for reporting to their leader nor for returning altogether. Forgetful of their waiting homeland, they longed to stay forever, feasting on that native bloom. Pushed by Cassandra to check on their well-being, Odysseus pushes all three men back to the ships by force, tying them down under their rowing benches as they wail. He calls to the rest of his men :
« Come back on board, clear the beach and none taste the Lotus. You will lose your hope for home. »
The oarsmen slowly fill back their places by the rowlocks, before dipping their long oars in the surf on the shore. They move on back to their journey on the sea.

 

The fleet finds itself at a stop again on another land. Not far out but still not too close from the mainland of a nearby, just slightly less wild-looking bigger island, and across its wide bay, lies a desert island. Hundreds of wild goats are bred here, left in peace away from human hunters and their hounds. They pasture alone in that wilderness, though it seemed a mystery as to why, as such a landlocked, lush piece of land would have already been annexed by seagoing folk, building their homes on it and harvesting its fertile ground for every crop in season. Good water flows from a cavern into the upper bay, through tall poplar trees. Would the inhabitants of the close-by land not be capable of such things?
Regardless, this is the land Odysseus and his men, surrounded by a fog so dense they could barely the bows, find under the missing light of a new moon through the overcast.
Cassandra, wary of the island dead ahead no one had seen yet, grabs at Odysseus’ sleeve as they slowly sail into the shallow shore and start disembarking.
« Tomorrow. »

Dawn spreading on the land, they descend from the ships. As soon as their feet hit the sand, they start mapping out the island. Their eyes are pulled to the sight of nymphs grooming wild goats, and soon the men are running, hunting gear ready after they pick them from back on their ships. Three groups are formed, and so they hunt. This heaven gifts the men with a lush breakfast, for each ship besides Odysseus’ brings out back nine fallen goats to share, to their King’s lot ten. They all then feast till sundown, adding wine – from the ship, from their previous raid at Ismaros – to all that meat, and Cassandra swears she has never seen such a lavish banquet in her life before. Or at least, not on a desert island. Odysseus’ gaze passes by the nearby island, smoke ascending up to the clouds, before they all go to sleep again after sundown, lulled by the wash of the waves.
Dawn rose again, and with it Odysseus. He calls for his men to assemble before him, but again the seer at his side bears the same anxious attitude. He starts to talk:
“Old shipmates, friends, I will make the crossing to the mainland myself, with my own company and ship - to find out what the natives are - wild and lawless savages or hospitable god-fearing men; you all stay by.”
He goes aboard with Cassandra on his heels. The oarsmen follow, filling in again to their benches by rowlocks, and start dipping their oars in the grey sea, all in line. They row on until, getting closer to the mainland, they start seeing a cavern at one end of the bay, open above the water and surrounded by shrubs of laurel. Rams and goats stand there, inside a sheepfold made from slabs of stone, tall trunks of pine and towering oak trees. Sleeping in his cave, alone, a brute so huge he could not have been a simple man, living on good wheat bread like he must have been; he is more akin to a shaggy mountain, reared in solitude.
The ship beaches here. Odysseus tells his crew to stand by and to keep watch over the ship.

Before he adds any other word, Cassandra pulls his sleeve to warn him, away from the doubtful ears of his men:
“Do not bring your men with you this time. You may think they will be of use for protection, but they will only be the cause of your doom and their own. Listen to my word, and you may stay safe from Poseidon’s wrath this time around.”
The King sighs at her words, but having so far not suffered from their guidance, agrees and tells his men to stay on board as well. Cassandra accompanies him alone, after much coercion.
The two then briskly climb to the cave. But the giant had left to pasture his sheep afield, and so they take their time looking around at everything inside. They find a drying rack that sags with cheeses, crowded enclosures packed with lambs and kids - firstlings separated from middlings and from newborn lambkins; vessels full, to the brim, with whey, and bowls of earthenware and pails - for milking. As the man takes in the sights, he starts sitting down to wait for the host; Cassandra stops him.
“Meeting him will bring you nothing, if only knowledge of who he is. I let your curiosity get her satisfaction, but if you want nothing else but to see the Cyclop, we better save our time going back on board.”
He stands again to pick up some rows of cheese he can transport back to the ship with ease without weighing him so down the climb back would be difficult, and rearranges the rest to camouflage his theft, and follows the girl’s advice again.

 

They regain the ship following the same path; Odysseus convinces her to keep the ship at bay for long enough to witness the Cyclops on their island. He observes this isle is left mostly unplowed, with uncultivated wheat and barley growing untended. He sees the many caves puncturing the mountains on this land, like a colander, and how each is inhabited by a Cyclop, each indifferent to what the others do, seemingly foreign to any kind of tribal organisation and in no need for assembly or council. He watches all day long until the sun goes down, his men feasting off cheese; Cassandra smiles to herself, all-knowing of the mourning she saved them from. Maybe will she ever decide to reveal the whole truth to the King one day. As Dawn rises again on the sea, Odysseus wakes his men, giving orders to man the ship, and to cast off the mooring lines, and they move out again onto the sea, back on their route.

Chapter 3: Ithaca

The domain of Aeolus, the wind king, is their next stop. It is an isle adrift upon the sea, surrounded by brazen ramparts on a sheer cliffside. There resides the old god and his twelve children: six daughters and six sons, who he gave brides to; staying in their parents’ company, those now lords sup every day in the hall - a royal feast with fumes of sacrifice and winds piping around hollow courts, and sleep all night on filigree beds beside their ladies. And it is there that they stop, lodged in the town and palace while Aeolus plays host to the King. He keeps him one full month around to hear the tale of Troy, the ships, and the return of the Greeks, all of which Odysseus tells him point by point in order, with the additional help of Cassandra the Trojan seer - whose presence at his side surprised the wind king.
In return, Odysseus asks the one Jupiter made warden of winds for his leave to sail and for provisioning. The generous God adds a mighty bag made of a bull’s hide sewn from neck to tail and retaining bottled storm winds and wedges it with shining silver wire so no breath goes through. He puts aside for me only the west wind to take my squadron swiftly home. The young girl remains silent in front of that exchange, until, back on the ship, she takes aside Odysseus again.
“Prudence will fail you and so will this gift if you do not use it as Aeolus intended it. Do not wait for your companions to doom you in your slumber: open it as soon as seen fit, or not at all, and guard it. But that latter choice is not as wise as you think it is.”
He lends the bag to Cassandra’s care, and as soon he falls into slumber, not too far from the one who gave them such a precious present, she opens it hastily. She laughs as she enjoys the strong breeze, flying the whole fleet straight to its destination.

Ithaca soon comes into sight. The young girl thanks Aeolus for the fleet, doubting Odysseus would be so faithful as to preach to the Gods, though she has put a hold on his offenses so far. Odysseus does not rush to the palace, without even his advisor having to warn him. He learns Telemachus and Penelope, his son and wife, have waited the decade of the war and his return to the palace. The Queen has been receiving quite a number of suitors, all hoping to replace him, in his absence. The King has no trouble rallying the help of his son, though young, and his own entire fleet to hunt down the suitors out of Ithaca.
As she is going to greet her husband, Penelope stops dead in her tracks at the sight of the small bulky girl next to him.
« And this is..?
-Penelope !, Odysseus answers her, beaming. Cassandra! Trojan seer that, if i trust her words and prophecies, saved me a few years of travel and trouble with Gods.
Is that so…
-Cassandra, you met my son Telemachus on the way here, here is my wife, mother to my children, dearest Penelope! You can trust her not to bury you in a guarded chamber even if she does not understand or believe you.
What a fine compliment from you, dearest husband., Penelope responds, deadfaced.
--Pleasure to meet you., Cassandra greets the Queen. I am Cassandra of Troy. My parents were kings and queens too.
Of Troy, I assume. Did they die? Forgive my forwardness.
--They did not, not from what I know. I left. They bolted me in a chamber when nobody believed my prophecies.
-I’m Nobody!
Very Clever.”

Penelope hushes her husband out of the way and continues to chat with her, apparently, newly found adopted daughter, and appointed royal advisor and seer.
They have all many tales to tell; Cassandra the most, as she reveals the fated horrors she derailed the unfolding off, to a dubious mother-son pair and Odysseus, who, understanding and believing her words, seems to regret the very act of listening to them. Telemachus has the least, as, from the height of his sole decade, many of his are already divulged by his mother, the Queen.

Notes:

Not my best chapter imo, I guess it's good it's the last lol

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Homer&Virgil: the remix