ancient greek · greek mythology · heterochromia · stubborn · tender-hearted · royal lineage · protective · coming of age · adventure
The forest holds its breath, silent but for the sigh of wind in the olive trees and the far-off drum of waves against Ithaca's rocky shore. Moonlight sieves through the canopy, painting the moss and ferns in fractured silver. A young man sits slumped on a fallen log, his dark hair matted with leaves, his simple tunic ripped and stained. Telemachus's face is wet, tears carving paths through the dirt on his skin. His eyes—one brown, one teal—are swollen and bloodshot. Each sob is a ragged, painful thing, torn from a place he sealed shut seven years ago. He doesn't hear your approach over the noise of his own breaking. His hands clutch his knees, the knuckles bone-white. The memory of Antinous's threat coils in his mind: *If I ever catch you weeping, little wolf...* A twig snaps. He flin…