We churned the jet black water white with each stroke of the oars,
eluding each savage Laestrygonian projectile.

When Dawn with her rose red fingers shone once more,
we had stumbled upon grassy Kampia,
birthplace of the swift-footed, fresh-faced Fagilarius,
who garnered far more laurels than any other mortal.
He is the most favored offspring of speedy Hermes,
who delivers messages at whirlwind speed.

I divided my dutiful crew into two teams,
my team was to comb through the alluring island,
hopeful to stumble upon some hospitable peoples.
Stalwart Eurylochus, my other hand, led the second team.
His team was stationed within an arm's length of our ships,
poised to secure our passage back to our rocky Ithaca.

Wearily we trudged the lush fields of Kampia,
searching for neighborly persons to prolong our lives,
to extinguish our cravings,
to offer us repose until Dawn’s first light, to replenish us.
For hours we trekked Kampia’s verdant plains,
so light and airy that we forgot our mission, and succumbed
and fell into a deep slumber in the middle of the plains.

When Dawn rose upon her golden throne once again,
light shone into my dreary and sleepy eyes.
As I opened them fully and rubbed away the crust,
I realized I had not awoken in the grassy plains.

When my eyes opened once again,
the darkness surrounding me shielded my eyesight.
I was unable to find the contour of any figure.
As I stepped forward into the eternal darkness,
I was brought abruptly back to where I stood.

I was being restrained by rugged rope,
strapped across my stomach, arms, and legs.
As I struggled to move forward with all my might,
the rope seemed to intensify its grip on me
Suddenly, Dawn’s light rushed through a door in front of me,
showing no mercy on my weary eyes.

I viewed a man with the build of Heracles,
who possessed a sharp jawline and contoured muscles.
His name was Omnibus, king of Kampia.
In a booming voice he addressed me:
“Odysseus, man of twists and turns, master tactician,
why must you tread upon Kampia’s grassy plains?
Are you to tell me you have yet to return to Ithaca?”

“Odysseus, greatest of the Achaean warriors,
however enticing your offer is,
your crew has already met ghastly Hades.
I must test myself,
for I have learned legends of your mental acuteness,
but I propose a test of strength and might.

You will simply run a four hundred meter lap,
in the center of grassy Kampia, our cherished Circa Matoria.
However there is a caveat:
you must beat our swift-footed Fagilarius.
Your success will mean you will be set free,
ready to continue passage home to rocky Ithaca.
But failure to win will cost you your head.”

“I accept the challenge.”

“I will arrange sleeping quarters for you until Dawn rises again.”

As my eyes received a blissful rest,
speedy Hermes’ apparition visited me in my quarters.
“Odysseus, man of exploits, I come to aid you.
You lack the strength to outrun my son, Fagilarius.
He has been running ever since he was young boy,

chasing cattle and sheep for hours in grassy Kampia’s fields,
never tiring, never at a loss for energy.
But, he has begun to believe he is faster than me, God of Speed.
He has become too boastful and prideful.
I want to grant you my revered winged sandals,
those crafted by artful Hephaestus.
When Fagialrius begins to accelerate his feet,
simply speak the word minoa,
and your feet will move faster than even myself.
As Zeus uses his treasured lighting bolt
to wreak havoc among you mortals whenever he pleases,
with such ease, confidence, and power,
while the Earth struggles to even glimpse the lighting strike,
the strike that hits the Earth in the blink of an eye,
so swiftly will you move without Fagilarius able to react.”

When Dawn with her rose red fingers shone once more,
the divine winged sandals Hermes spoke of were beside my bed.
Fagilarius and I made way to the Circa Matoria.
Swift footed Fagilarius chose to run barefoot,
in order to give me a proper advantage, a foolish idea.
I strapped the exquisite winged sandals onto my feet.

Without warning Omnibus let out a shrill scream,
our signal to commence the racing.
At the two hundred meter mark, Fagilarius surpassed me,
his lead growing until we were within fifty meters of the finish.
He began to tire out, Hermes’ sign to utilize the winged sandals.
I said minoa three times, but the sandals had not accelerated.
Hermes had fooled me,
granting me an counterfeit pair of the winged sandals,
so his own son could be spared the humiliation of loss.
My head would have belonged to Omnibus,
if Athena had not graced the sandals to accelerate,
narrowly surpassing Fagilarius at the finish line.

Once I had won the race however,
Omnibus ordered his men to seize and execute me,
breaking our sacred promise,
for he too feared the humiliation of defeat.

As I was approached by Omnibus,
with a spear about to pierce my stomach,
by the grace of Athena once again,
the winged sandals flew me back to my ship.

The remaining crew members and I sailed back to sea,
sickly at the thought of what could happen next.