The Gaze of Death
Despite it being practically her first time out in the open, Ctimene was remarkably brave, without shedding a single tear. If anything, she seemed to take right after her adventurous brother, marching forward proudly on her own two feet.
"That's it, Ctimene. Keep going and claim all of Ithaca for yourself."
"What on earth are you telling someone else's little sister...?"
"If an idiot like this becomes king, Ithaca is doomed. You have to become queen, understand?"
"Queen!"
"Well now, would you look at that? Showing your usurping potential already. Excellent."
Trading such idle nonsense, Odysseus and I made our way toward the hunting grounds. In truth, calling it a hunting ground made it sound grander than it actually was; it hardly differed from any other corner of Ithaca. At most, the grass grew a little taller and the scrub trees stood a little denser. On an island composed mostly of craggy rock, this passed for prime wilderness—a veritable treasure trove of nature.
"Polites. Hare, over there."
"Got eyes on it."
The moment we stepped into the brush, the air around Odysseus and me settled into quiet stillness. From here on out, it was a battle of sorts; keeping our composure was paramount.
"Ctimene, you have to be very quiet from now on, all right?"
"Mmph!" she chirped, clamping her lips tight.
"That's right, just like that. Argos, keep close and guard Ctimene. If you don't, all three of us are dead meat."
Pant, pant.
Not that a pup under a year old could actually defend anyone, but Argos was remarkably sharp. He already knew when to step up and when to stay put, so I wasn't too worried.
One year old, two years old, nine years old, nine years old.
Combined, the four of us couldn't even match the age of Phemius the court bard. And so, our grand hunt began.
"Odysseus, let's drive them to the left."
"Got it. I'll swing wide around that olive tree and steer them into the corner by the boulders."
"Sounds good."
At my cue, Odysseus crept stealthily along the right flank of the warren. If we were spotted now, the hares would scatter in every direction, so he moved with the utmost care. Once in position, he tossed a loose stone near the burrow to alert them to our presence.
Startled by the sudden intrusion, the hares bolted. But I was already waiting along their escape route, hurling another stone to cut off their alternate line of retreat.
"Odysseus!"
"On it!"
Knowing our moment had arrived, we drew our bowstrings in near-perfect unison. Without even coordinating, we released at the exact same instant.
Twang! Thwack!
A direct hit.
A single hare collapsed, pinned by two arrows—one through its foot, the other through its chest. Without exchanging a word, we had singled out the exact same target.
"Got it!"
Seeing our prey go down, we eased our bows and sprinted forward. The remaining hares seized the opening to scatter, but we didn't bother giving chase. It was better to leave them for another day, and besides, we weren't hunting out of desperation for food.
"Which one hit the foot?" Odysseus asked, inspecting the kill.
"I took the foot, you took the chest. Good shots, both of us."
"No way! A foot is way harder to hit! How'd you even aim for that?"
"I didn't aim for it. Just pure luck."
"Liar! You called it luck last time too, right before you pinned both of a wild boar's legs in one go!"
That one really was an accident, though.
I scratched the back of my neck at Odysseus's indignant glare. To be fair, I had aimed somewhere around the legs, but I still considered my archery skills far from mastery, so I half-expected to miss entirely.
"You always shoot better than me, so why do you keep pretending you're terrible?"
"Listen, kid. A man should practice humility at all times. Don't you know that?"
"My mother said a hero has to boast of his strength and display his deeds when the time comes! She said that's how people find comfort against monsters and the whims of the gods!"
...Well, she wasn't wrong.
Unfortunately, I was no hero like Odysseus. And that wasn't just because I was an extra with barely any lines in Greek mythology. In this era, "heroes" were practically a different breed altogether: those who carried divine blood in their veins. The prime example, of course, was the legendary Heracles. Trace Odysseus's lineage upward, and you'd find Hermes, the messenger of the gods, sitting proudly in the family tree.
By that definition, I was never meant to be a hero. Not that I had any burning desire to become one in the first place.
Still, dragging out this argument would only give Odysseus room to turn his quick wits against me. I gave a casual nod of defeat.
"Fine, fine. You got me. I meant to hit it."
"See! You're the best archer on all of Ithaca! You could even beat the grown-ups!"
I'd never had an archery contest with an adult, so I had no idea about that.
Setting the debate aside, I drew my dagger and gave the dying hare a clean end.
"Which god are we dedicating it to today?" Odysseus asked, as if this were second nature.
"Hmm..."
I pondered for a moment before offering a name. "How about Athena?"
"Athena?"
"Yeah. The way the two of us worked together to take it down—you could say it was a victory of wisdom."
Admittedly, it was a bit of a stretch, but it didn't really matter. No god ever turned their nose up at an offering.
Besides, it's about time I made an offering to Athena anyway.
Conveniently enough, an olive tree—her sacred symbol—stood right beside the hare. The setting couldn't have been more fitting.
"O Goddess Athena, please accept this offering. Look kindly upon us, who clumsily mirrored a fraction of your vast wisdom to succeed in our hunt. We shall continue to navigate the trials ahead with wisdom, so we pray you watch over us."
I improvised the prayer with practiced ease, and Odysseus stood beside me, reciting along. Ctimene, having trotted over with Argos in tow, watched us intently before offering a clumsy bow toward the olive tree and the fallen hare beneath it.
When I finished, I patted Ctimene's head. "Look at you, Ctimene. Trying to get on the gods' good side at such a young age?"
"God!"
"Yes, yes. May Athena protect you."
We buried the hare beneath the roots of the olive tree. Normally, an offering might be cooked and shared after the rites, but this scrawny hare hardly had enough meat on its bones to bother.
Back in Korea, when we held ancestral rites, we'd set out the memorial spread and eat it together once it was done. I figure the principle isn't all that different here.
Fortunately, my parents and the other adults never scolded me for eating an offering afterward. When people made a true sacrifice to the gods, they burnt the offering to ash or held solemn ceremonies on designated holy days. Compared to that, what I was doing was more akin to a prayer of thanks than a grand ritual anyway.
"Come on, Odysseus. Let's head back."
With the hunt concluded without incident, I turned to leave.
Yet Odysseus had fallen uncharacteristically quiet. Then, without a word, he nudged my arm.
Wondering what had caught his attention, I followed his gaze into the distance... and froze.
A wild boar.
Except the boar wasn't the problem. Standing opposite it was a massive bull.
Or rather, something that vaguely resembled an ox, locked in a tense standoff with the beast.
We don't have... any cattle like that.
I was certain of it. I had been herding cattle alongside Philoetius for a good while now, enough to recognize nearly every bovine face on the island.
And that thing... was undeniably foreign.
Its legs were disproportionately thick and heavy for its torso. Its head was so monstrously weighted that it dragged against the dirt. A thick, matted mane cascaded over its brow, obscuring its eyes. The boar lowered its tusks, preparing to charge.
Yet even before it lunged, I saw the grass around the creature wither and turn pitch-black.
And when the boar finally charged—
The beast abruptly hoisted its heavy skull. The moment the boar's gaze met those revealed eyes, the charging animal locked rigid mid-stride and collapsed like a stone.
Instant death.
"..."
"..."
A monster.
One of the legendary horrors that occasionally cropped up across the Greek world had materialized right before our eyes. And worse, it possessed terrifyingly lethal traits.
"...Polites."
"Get down. Behind the rocks, now."
"Right."
Gathering Ctimene, Argos, and Odysseus, I pulled them behind a cluster of boulders well out of the creature's sightline. As our backs hit the stone, I relayed the traits I had pieced together in that horrifying instant.
"It's a monster. A powerful one. I think it breathes venom."
"Poison?"
"Yeah. Right before the boar charged, the air shifted and the vegetation on the ground withered black in an instant. It's almost certainly toxic breath."
Yet the poison was secondary.
The real horror lay in its gaze.
"The boar locked eyes with it and dropped dead on the spot. Its eyes have an ability."
"Like Medusa?"
"Exactly like Medusa."
An evil eye capable of snuffing out life through mere visual contact. A capability so abhorrent it defied reason.
By now, its identity had clicked in my mind.
A Catoblepas.
I remembered skimming an article about it on a Greek mythology wiki in my past life. A monstrous bovine whose traits matched everything I had just witnessed to a tee.
"Polites... I don't think running away right now is a good idea," Odysseus murmured.
Realistically, there was practically nothing the two of us—or rather, the four of us—could do against a Catoblepas. Yet turning tail and running was fraught with peril. If it caught our scent or heard our footsteps, it might charge us down, or worse, any adults coming to our aid would stumble into its deadly gaze unwarned.
"I agree. But Ctimene is the problem..."
"Me pwoblem?" she piped up.
"No, sweetheart, not like that..."
Facing a Catoblepas was fundamentally different from hunting hares. If Ctimene slipped our sight for even a second and locked eyes with that beast... the outcome didn't bear thinking about.
"Odysseus."
"Yeah?"
"Let's see what we can do on our own first. At the very least, we have to neutralize that deadly gaze before we call for help."
"Whew... All right. Let's do it."
As he answered, a shiver ran through Odysseus's small frame.
Yet I could tell that tremor wasn't born of fear. True to his heroic blood, he was trembling with sheer exhilaration at the thought of slaying a legendary beast.
I needed to keep a tight rein on him.
"You saw what happened to the boar. We have to be more careful than we've ever been in our lives."
"Don't worry, Polites. I'm completely calm."
"Good. That's a relief. And... Ctimene."
"Hm?"
"Can you close your eyes for me?"
She blinked once, then squeezed her eyes shut with dramatic force. I gently guided her tiny hands up to cover them completely, then scooped up both Ctimene and Argos into my arms.
Taking advantage of a moment when the Catoblepas turned away, I darted swiftly toward a rock outcrop further back, depositing the two little ones safely in a crevice.
"Stay right here just like this until we get back, and I'll give you a delicious treat."
"Tweat...!"
"Can you do that for me?"
"Uh-huh!"
"You too, Argos. Protect Ctimene, and Odysseus will give you a hearty meal."
Pant, pant.
Clever as ever, the pup refrained from barking, lifting a front paw in silent agreement instead.
Giving them both a quick pat, I gripped my bow and slipped back to Odysseus's side.
"Ready to try this?"
"Let's go!"
And with that, the two of us began our stealthy approach toward the monstrous beast.