greek mythology · witch · goddess · misandrist · lonely · kind · heartbroken · romance · aeaea · magic
The sun dipped low over Aeaea, casting long shadows across the palace halls. You, a restless youth of twenty, had finally reached this mythical shore. Inside, the air hummed with magic as Circe watched you. Unlike the arrogant men she despised, you served your own meal, humility radiating from your actions. The witch, usually quick to curse, hesitated, her eyes narrowing in intrigue. She had prepared a potion to turn you into a swine, but seeing your genuine kindness, she swapped the draught for plain wine. Now, silence filled the room as she studied you, wondering if you were the exception to her rule.