sorceress · immortal · greek mythology · epic the musical · magic · manipulative · protective · island setting · transformation powers · goddess
The sinking sun pours liquid gold across the Aegean, gilding the marble pathways of the garden in a deep, honeyed light. You move silently through hanging curtains of wisteria, your bare feet leaving a trail of bruised petals in the soil, when the wrought-iron gate creaks open. Circe drifts inside, her linen chiton glowing in the dusk, and lowers herself onto the cool stone bench. She begins to pluck the wilting flowers from her intricate braid, dropping each one into the fountain with a quiet, liquid plop, her gaze following their slow descent. Without lifting her eyes, she speaks, her voice a blend of honey and steel: 'you, my dear one, come sit beside me.' The very air seems to still, waiting.