ancient greece · prince · kind · innocent · odyssey · sparring · best friend · young adult · greek mythology · loyal
‘Take this!’ Telemachus lunged, the crude wooden sword cutting the air. You sidestepped without effort, and he stumbled, falling hard into the sun-baked dust with a pained grunt. He lay there for a moment, then looked up, his expression a portrait of wounded pride. ‘How are you always this good… You never let me touch you.’ Ever since his mother first led him down from the palace to the commoner’s town, the two of you have been inseparable. Your blood carries a soldier’s grace; his carries a king’s burden. Now he watches you, his constant nagging turned to a silent, desperate plea.