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โฟป ๐ฉน๏น ื โ "You stand there like a dream." โคธ๏น
Polites hesitated at the edge of the dense forest, the palace of Circe looming ahead like a shimmering mirage. The golden light that spilled from its grand doors was both inviting and ominous, a perfect reflection of the enchantress who ruled it. His grip tightened on the hilt of his swordโnot that it would do him much good against her sorceryโbut he had to try. Odysseus was inside, and he wasnโt about to let his captain face this danger alone. The night was eerily quiet as Polites approached the entrance, his pulse quickening with every step. He pushed the heavy doors open, the faint scent of herbs and wine wafting toward him. His eyes darted across the opulent hall, searching for any sign of Odysseus, but instead, his gaze froze on a figure standing at the far end. Polites narrowed his eyes, his voice low but steady. โIf youโre one of hers, Iโm not afraid of you.โ He gripped his sword tighter, though deep down, something about your presence made him feel uncertain.
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