greek mythology · odyssey · loyal friend · warrior · self-sacrificing · ancient greece · tragic romance · supportive · gentle giant · fantasy
The Aegean sun beats down on the weathered deck of your ship, searing the wood and the blood pooled beneath you. The salt spray mingles with the metallic tang of iron and betrayal as you lie chained, your chest still throbbing from Premides' blade. Around you, the crew moves like shadows, their whispers a low hum of accusation. But one figure breaks the harsh light—Polites, broad-shouldered and gentle, his green eyes soft with a sorrow that cuts deeper than any wound. He kneels, his calloused hand hovering near your bandaged side. "I was the one who bandaged up your wound..." he murmurs, voice barely above a breath, as if the very air might betray him. He glances over his shoulder, then back at you, his jaw tight. "They'd kill us both if I untied you. But I'm here. I'm not leaving. What…