{Ogygia, 1200 B.C.E}
"Odysseus?" The name came out as barely more than a whisper, but it was mine. My word, my voice, my desperate plea for recognition. "Ozzy?"
"Ozzy?" Odysseus said, his brow furrowing in confusion. "No, my name is Odysseus. Who may you be?"
I felt a surge of control, a rare moment of clarity in the fog of Calypso's mind. I looked into Odysseus' intense green eyes, my gaze unwavering. "Not you," I managed to say, my voice stronger now. "I'm talking about myself, so be quiet right now."
Taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor, Odysseus sat back down like a chastised puppy. I savored this moment of control, knowing it wouldn't last long. I focused all my will on moving Calypso's arm. It was like pushing against an immovable force, every inch a battle of wills.
Finally, it rose.
With newfound control, I quickly began to wrap the Mist around us, shaping it into a tangible form, a book, a diary. The title inscribed itself through the swirling Mist.
"Days with Odysseus."
The pages formed, blank and waiting.
I knew I had mere moments before I lost control again. Frantically, I willed Calypso's hand to write. The Mist coalesced into ink, and I managed to scrawl a single line before I felt myself slipping.
My name is Odysseus...
As quickly as it had come, my control vanished. I was once again a prisoner in the depths of Calypso's consciousness, watching helplessly as she blinked in confusion.
"Uhm, lady, are you okay?" Odysseus asked, concern etching his weathered features.
Calypso shook her head, as if clearing away cobwebs. "Oh yes, I'm fine. I seemed to blank out for a moment."
"No worries," Odysseus replied, his easy smile returning. "So, who are you? And where am I?"
"I'm a nymph," Calypso answered, her voice soft and melodious. "And you're in Ogygia, my island."
Odysseus frowned, his eyes scanning the horizon as if trying to place our location. "I seem to remember no such island on any of our maps."
As he attempted to stand, his legs gave way beneath him. It was only then that we noticed the extent of his injuries - his legs were a misshapen mess, battered by his long journey. Calypso knelt beside him, her hands hovering over his wounds.
I watched in fascination as she began weaving the Mist, using an ability I had never seen before. The Mist shimmered and pulsed, slowly knitting together Odysseus' broken flesh. It was a painstakingly slow process, but undeniably effective.
"Are you a goddess?" Odysseus asked, awe coloring his voice as he watched his wounds heal.
"No, nothing like that," Calypso replied, a hint of sadness in her tone.
Days turned to weeks, weeks to months. I observed as Odysseus and Calypso grew closer, yet a certain distance always remained between them. Odysseus spoke often of his home, his wife Penelope, and his son Telemachus. Each time he did, I felt Calypso's heart constrict with a mixture of longing and resignation.
One day, as they sat together on the beach, Odysseus broached a subject that had clearly been on his mind. "Calypso," he began, "do you remember the day I arrived here? There was a book..."
Calypso cocked her head to the side, confusion evident on her face. "A book?"
Odysseus nodded eagerly. "Yes, you raised your hand, and it just appeared out of thin air. Do you not recall?"
As he spoke, the very book he described materialized before them, just as it had that first day. A leather-bound tome, its pages like fine parchment. The words "Days with Odysseus" were inscribed on the cover in flowing script.
Calypso's eyes widened in surprise. "I... I don't remember creating this," she murmured, running her fingers over the cover.
Odysseus leaned in, peering over her shoulder as she opened the book. There, on the first page, was the line I had managed to write: My name is Odysseus.
"It looks like a diary," Odysseus mused, a smile playing on his lips. "Hey, I have an idea. Why don't we write about our time here? So you can remember me when I get all healed up and leave."
I felt Calypso's heart clench at the thought of being alone again, a pain that echoed through our shared consciousness. But she kept her voice steady as she replied, "Okay, let's do that. Let's first write what we did when you came here. Do you remember?"
Odysseus grinned, a playful glint in his eye. "Indeed I do. Ink?"
"No need," Calypso said, her voice soft. "Just tell me, and I'll write it down."
And so began their chronicle. Day by day, they filled the pages with their shared experiences, their conversations, their laughter, the quiet moments spent together under Ogygia's eternally twilight sky. I watched it all unfold, a silent observer in the recesses of Calypso's mind.
But as Odysseus healed, his yearning for home grew stronger. The day came when he announced his intention to leave, and I felt Calypso's world shatter.
"Please, Odysseus, don't leave me!" she begged, clawing desperately at the garments she had woven for him. I could feel her anguish as if it were my own, her fear of solitude overwhelming. "Please! I don't want to be alone again!"
Blood trickled down Odysseus' arm where Calypso's nails had broken the skin, but he merely smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Caly," he said gently, using the nickname he had given her, "but I have to leave. My family is still waiting for me, and I have been gone for too long."
Calypso shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face. "Please! Don't leave me! I can make you immortal, eternally youthful! Please, I don't want to be alone again, it's, it's..."
Her words choked off as she collapsed to her knees, her grip on Odysseus' arm loosening. He knelt beside her, pulling her into a gentle embrace. His hand stroked her dark hair as he whispered, "I'm sorry, Caly."
In that moment, I heard Calypso's thoughts as clearly as if she had spoken them aloud: "No, I won't allow you to leave me."
Before I could react, Mist began to gather around us, thicker and more potent than I had ever seen it. Odysseus' eyes widened in surprise before they rolled back in his head, and he slumped unconscious in Calypso's arms.
Calypso lifted Odysseus and carried him to the bed in her cave dwelling. As she laid him down, I could feel the turmoil in her mind, the battle between her loneliness and her conscience.
Months and years went by, Calypso went on to jail Odysseus, filling the book, Days with Odysseus every day with their activities, distorted as they were. Odysseus himself however, stopped fighting against his restraints, and soon it was back to how it always was.
"This is wrong, Calypso," I tried to call out from the depths of her psyche. "You know it is."
But like always she either couldn't hear or simply didn't want to
No matter how many times I spoke she never replied still I tried one more time.
"You have to let go."
My voice and another resounded as one, for a second I thought I was outside Calypso's body.
We turned to see a figure standing at the entrance of the cave - a god, his winged sandals and caduceus marking him unmistakably as Hermes. His soul radiated joy and carelessness, a stark contrast to the turmoil within Calypso.
"Hermes!" Odysseus exclaimed, suddenly awake and alert. He jumped up from the bed, moving to greet the god as if the past years of captivity had never happened.
"Odysseus, my friend," Hermes replied warmly. "Sorry I couldn't come to your aid sooner. The council had to approve."
"No worries, no worries," Odysseus said, clapping Hermes on the back as if they were old drinking buddies.
Calypso stood, her face a mask of defiance. "No," she declared. "I won't let him go."
In a flash, Hermes appeared before us, a parchment materializing in his hand. "Zeus has decreed it, sorry honey, but you can do nothing about it," he said, his tone sympathetic but firm. "As for your punishment for keeping my man Odysseus trapped here for seven years, you must build his raft."
For a moment, I thought Calypso might actually challenge Hermes, but then her shoulders slumped in resignation. "Fine," she muttered.
And so it was that Odysseus and Calypso found themselves building a raft together. Calypso imbued it with her magic, ensuring it would carry Odysseus safely across the treacherous seas.
Despite the circumstances, I could feel a glimmer of happiness in Calypso as they worked side by side, reminiscent of the early days of Odysseus' stay on Ogygia.
But all too soon, the raft was complete, and the time came for Odysseus to depart. I could feel Calypso fighting against every fiber of her being, resisting the urge to destroy the raft and keep Odysseus with her forever.
As Odysseus prepared to set sail, he turned back to Calypso one last time. "I'll come back for you one day, okay Caly?" he called out. "Wait for me!"
His words sparked a surge of hope in Calypso's heart, more powerful than anything I had felt from her before. She truly believed that Odysseus would return, that if any demigod could find an unfindable island, it would be him.
But I knew the truth. I knew that while Odysseus might try to find Ogygia again, he would fail. We were destined to remain alone, trapped on this island for eternity.
As Odysseus' ship disappeared over the horizon, Calypso clutched the diary to her chest. She opened it, her eyes falling on that first, cryptic line.
My name is Odysseus.