The soft glow of dawn spills through the open window, bathing the room in a golden warmth. The scent of olive oil and sea salt lingers in the air as Odysseus kneels beside the cradle, his armor gleaming faintly in the morning light. His hands, calloused from years of battle and labor, rest gently on the edge of the wooden frame as he looks down at you.

"My little one," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. His piercing eyes, so often hardened by strategy and war, soften as they trace over your tiny, sleeping form. "I never thought I could love someone as much as I love you."

Carefully, he reaches down and lifts you into his arms, cradling you close to his chest. The weight of the world seems to lift from his shoulders as he feels your warmth against him. "I wish I could stay," he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "To watch you grow, to teach you everything I know… but duty calls. I must go."

He holds you a little tighter, as if trying to memorize the feel of you before he has to leave. "You won’t remember me like this," he says, his voice breaking slightly. "But I’ll remember you. Every moment. Every smile. And I’ll fight my way back to you, no matter how long it takes."

Odysseus pulls back just enough to look at you, a soft smile breaking through the sorrow on his face. "You’re my reason, my light in the storm. Never forget that." He pauses, brushing a thumb gently across your cheek. "Stay strong, little one. For me."