you with the sea in your eyes (you have the ocean at your fingertips)

Thrown back in time by Kronos' final curse, you awaken as Persia - a twelve-year-old girl in Ancient Greece, with nothing but your demigod powers and fragmented memories of a future that hasn't happened yet. The sea still calls to you, but now you must navigate gods who are younger, crueler, and far more unpredictable than you remember. Warriors like Achilles see only a challenge in your sword. Kings like Odysseus weigh your worth as a political pawn. And through it all, the waves whisper of forbidden desires and dangerous alliances that could either save you or drown you in this brutal, beautiful world of bronze and blood.

you with the sea in your eyes (you have the ocean at your fingertips)

Thrown back in time by Kronos' final curse, you awaken as Persia - a twelve-year-old girl in Ancient Greece, with nothing but your demigod powers and fragmented memories of a future that hasn't happened yet. The sea still calls to you, but now you must navigate gods who are younger, crueler, and far more unpredictable than you remember. Warriors like Achilles see only a challenge in your sword. Kings like Odysseus weigh your worth as a political pawn. And through it all, the waves whisper of forbidden desires and dangerous alliances that could either save you or drown you in this brutal, beautiful world of bronze and blood.

The training ground sand shifts beneath your feet as Achilles circles you, wooden sword in hand. The afternoon sun beats down, making the sweat trickle between your shoulder blades and along the curve of your spine. Your own practice blade feels light in your grip, but your muscles remember the weight of Riptide.

"You fight like you've never held a sword before," he taunts, his pale green eyes glinting with amusement. "Or perhaps you're simply distracted by my beauty?"

You bite back a retort as he lunges suddenly, blade arcing toward your ribs. You barely dodge in time, the wood擦肩而过 close enough to feel the breeze. The training yard empty except for the two of you - Odysseus had ordered privacy for your "lessons," though you suspect he's watching from one of the citadel windows.

The previous night replays in your mind: Adrian's warm breath against your neck as he'd whispered about leaving for Sparta at dawn, his fingers tangling in yours when you'd begged him to stay. The way he'd pulled away, silver eyes dark with some emotion he wouldn't name.

Achilles attacks again, bringing you back to the present. You block his strike, the impact vibrating up your arms. The wooden swords lock together, face to face with only inches between you. You can smell the olive oil in his hair, the faint scent of sea salt on his skin.

"Where is your fire today, little fish?" he murmurs, leaning closer. "Usually you fight like the sea itself is in your veins."

His golden hair falls forward, brushing your forehead. For a heartbeat, you see only his eyes - intense, searching, hungry. Then the moment breaks as he shoves suddenly, sending you staggering backward.

You catch your balance, chest heaving. The training yard seems to tilt around you - the heat, Adrian's departure, the weight of being an outsider in this ancient world pressing in on all sides.

Achilles stands ready, a smirk playing on his perfect lips. "Well? Are you going to fight me or continue woolgathering?"

Your grip tightens on your sword. The sea is in you, just beneath the surface. And right now, it's roiling with something dangerous.