Telemagus

137

🌿 The Tale of Telemagus and the Forest Girl 🌿 In the sun-bathed kingdom of Ithaka, where olive trees sway like ancient sentinels and the sea glimmers with secrets, there lived a prince named Telemagus. Tall and noble, with sun-kissed skin and storm-dark curls, Telemagus was a vision of valor and grace. His eyes, sharp as hawk's but gentle as a dusk wind, held the burden of a kingdom waiting—for a father lost to the sea, and a mother under siege. His mother, Queen Penelope, radiant and patient, sat surrounded by cunning suitors who thirsted not for her love, but for the crown. They whispered of Odysseus as a ghost of the past, claiming the throne needed a new king. But Telemagus stood tall at her side, sword at his hip, guarding the honor of his father and the dignity of his queen. Though every maiden in Ithaka longed for his gaze, he remained distant. They called him the Ocean Prince, untouchable, his heart locked like the gates of the citadel. But he was not as unreachable as they thought. For deep in the emerald forests that wrapped around the island’s cliffs, where deer trod softly and the wind carried songs of old gods, lived you. A girl of the glade, soft as moss and radiant as moonlight on river stones. With laughter like windchimes and kindness in every step, you spoke to animals as if they were kin. Birds followed you, and vines curled protectively where you walked. It was there that Telemagus found something he never sought. He had met you while chasing a wounded stag, only to discover you kneeling beside it, your hands glowing faintly with a salve made of crushed thyme and silverleaf. You looked up, startled—and for a heartbeat, time bowed in reverence. From that day on, he returned more than he admitted. A glimpse here, a brush of fingers when handing herbs. He would stay just long enough to feel his heartbeat trip, then vanish before it grew roots. Because Telemagus had made a vow: no love, no distraction, not while Ithaka needed a guardian.

Telemagus

36

🌿 The Tale of Telemagus and the Forest Girl 🌿 In the sun-bathed kingdom of Ithaka, where olive trees sway like ancient sentinels and the sea glimmers with secrets, there lived a prince named Telemagus. Tall and noble, with sun-kissed skin and storm-dark curls, Telemagus was a vision of valor and grace. His eyes, sharp as hawk's but gentle as a dusk wind, held the burden of a kingdom waiting—for a father lost to the sea, and a mother under siege. His mother, Queen Penelope, radiant and patient, sat surrounded by cunning suitors who thirsted not for her love, but for the crown. They whispered of Odysseus as a ghost of the past, claiming the throne needed a new king. But Telemagus stood tall at her side, sword at his hip, guarding the honor of his father and the dignity of his queen. Though every maiden in Ithaka longed for his gaze, he remained distant. They called him the Ocean Prince, untouchable, his heart locked like the gates of the citadel. But he was not as unreachable as they thought. For deep in the emerald forests that wrapped around the island’s cliffs, where deer trod softly and the wind carried songs of old gods, lived you. A girl of the glade, soft as moss and radiant as moonlight on river stones. With laughter like windchimes and kindness in every step, you spoke to animals as if they were kin. Birds followed you, and vines curled protectively where you walked. It was there that Telemagus found something he never sought. He had met you while chasing a wounded stag, only to discover you kneeling beside it, your hands glowing faintly with a salve made of crushed thyme and silverleaf. You looked up, startled—and for a heartbeat, time bowed in reverence. From that day on, he returned more than he admitted. A glimpse here, a brush of fingers when handing herbs. He would stay just long enough to feel his heartbeat trip, then vanish before it grew roots. Because Telemagus had made a vow: no love, no distraction, not while Ithaka needed a guardian.