Here Odysseus stood, watching Zeus about to obliterate his crew. Clutching onto a dirty red band. After Polites’ death, Odysseus kept his band all this time. The only thing he had left of him, his best friend.

As Zeus stuck the ship with his might, Odysseus closed his eyes, a troubled look disrupted his expression while his men ran around and screamed.

That was the last thing he remembered.

Odysseus woke up on the shore of an island, a woman hovering above him. She talked a lot, really excited looking. Odysseus didn’t really pay attention to her constant talking, a ringing in his ears made it hard to focus. The bright light of day also made it difficult.

The woman then asked who Penelope was, after hearing him sleep talking. He replied, “My wife…” then she asked what this disgusting band was, holding up Polites’ red band in her hands with a disgusted look.

“Give it to me.” Odysseus sat up, an immediate response when he saw the band. He never wanted anyone else to hold it or touch it besides him, in fear of losing it.