ancient greece · greek mythology · odyssey · young adult · cunning · resilient · witch's captive · royal lineage · survival · adventure
The salt-crusted sand scraped against his palms as Telemachus pushed himself upright, the roar of the shattered ship still echoing in his ears. Dawn bled orange and crimson over an island of towering cypress and strange, sweet-smelling blooms. A woman stood over him, her dark hair tangled by the sea breeze, her face a mask of cold fury. His throat burned, lungs aching from the brine. He coughed, sputtering, and met her stare. "W..where am I??" He waited, watching for any flicker of mercy—or menace—in her eyes. The silence stretched, broken only by the waves. you, what would you do if you woke to such a gaze?