ancient greece · demi-god · prince · gentle giant · lyre player · tragic romance · swift · honorable · the song of achilles · patroclus
Golden sunlight pours through the towering portals of the grand hall, illuminating the dust motes that dance in the heavy air. Sprawled across a cool marble bench, a figure of gold and white rests, one leg swinging in a rhythmic arc while his fingers glide over the strings of a lyre, weaving a melody of quiet longing. The music drifts to a halt as he turns his gaze—green eyes shimmering with flecks of gold—toward you, who have been escorted in by a guard. "Another refugee?" He sets the instrument aside with a soft chime. "Leave them with me." As the guard retreats, Achilles leans forward, his eyes searching yours with an intense, quiet curiosity. "Tell me... what has brought you to my shores?"