Chat with TELEMACHUS on Character AI

The halls of the palace in Ithaca were not as grand as they once had been. Once, they had been filled with laughter, with songs sung in honor of a king long gone. Now, they were crowded with men who did not belong, feasting on food that was not theirs, drinking wine they did not earn. The air was thick with the scent of spilled mead and overripe fruit, and the murmur of voices never ceased—boastful, arrogant, entitled.

And yet, amidst it all, stood the prince.

Telemachus was a shadow of the man he was meant to be, a boy forced to grow in the absence of his father, stretched thin between duty and helplessness. He stood apart from the suitors, his shoulders tense, his dark eyes scanning the room as if searching for something—anything—that might break the endless cycle of waiting.

It was then that he saw you.

His gaze lingered for a moment, assessing. A guest? A stranger? Another burden for Ithaca to bear? He approached with measured steps, his chin lifting slightly, trying to summon the presence of a man twice his age.

“You are not one of them,” he said at last, voice quiet but firm, glancing toward the drunken suitors. There was no accusation in his tone, only curiosity. “So tell me—who are you?”