Aika: So...you're a nymph?

Circe: Yes...and my father is a god.

Aika: Really? 

Circe: Yeah, Apollo.

Aika: Nice. My mother is Athena.

Circe: Oh, so you're the daughter of wisdom?

Me: Okay, you two don't have to talk.

Circe: No, I'm adopting her.

Aika: I have a third mother now!

Aika's eyes snapped open, the remnants of Circe's words echoing in her mind. She found herself standing in a grand hall, the walls adorned with tapestries that sang of ancient battles and divine whims. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, and the sound of laughter, eerily human, sent chills down her spine. Her men, once fierce and loyal, now snuffled and grunted around a table laden with food, their forms transformed into those of pigs.

Her heart ached for them, their humanity stolen by the whims of a capricious goddess. Aika's mind raced as she searched for a way to reverse the curse. The weight of her divine heritage felt like a burden in this moment, her mother's words about the folly of interfering in human affairs ringing in her ears. Yet, she knew that she could not stand idly by as her comrades suffered.

The palace walls seemed to pulse with the energy of the enchantments that held them captive. The floor beneath her feet was slick with a substance that seemed to whisper of dark magic, and the air was thick with the scent of transformation. Aika took a deep breath, steeling herself for the battle ahead.

Odysseus stepped into the grand hall, his eyes searching for Aika. The sight of his men, reduced to snorting beasts, filled him with a rage so fierce it could have rivaled the storm that had brought them here. He scanned the room, his gaze finally landing on the goddess Circe, lounging on a throne of gold and emerald. She regarded him with a mix of amusement and challenge, the very essence of temptation and danger.

"Lady of the palace," he cautiously began, his voice steady despite his rage, "I've come with no ill intent, but rather a plea for clarity. I sent men to explore this land, and tusked beasts now greet me instead. Did your hand perform this twisted art?"

Circe's smile was like a knife, sharp and cold. "Who, me?" she feigned innocence. "I merely showed them their true forms, the ones they hide beneath the veneer of heroism."

Odysseus' eyes narrowed, his hand tightening around the pouch containing the moly. "You jest," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "They are men, not beasts."

Circe's laugh was like the tinkling of crystals, beautiful but deadly. "You think too highly of yourself, mortal," she purred. "But I shall indulge your delusion. Tell me, what makes you think you can resist me?"

Odysseus stepped forward, the moly root a silent testament to his resolve. "I've faced gods before," he said, his voice steady. "And I've survived. You may have power, Circe, but I have something you can never take."

Circe's eyes narrowed, her smile slipping. "Moly," she murmured, her tone icy. "How very... resourceful of you."

Odysseus stepped closer, his gaze unyielding. "I am not here for your amusement," he said, his voice a warning. "I am here for my men. And for Aika."

"So that is her name," Circe mused, her eyes narrowing at the mention of the woman who had come to stand before her. "Aika, daughter of Athena. How... intriguing." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, the room seeming to grow colder as she considered the implications of the goddess's presence. "I suppose that explains the lack of swine snouts in your group. But tell me, why does she follow a mere mortal?"

Odysseus stepped forward, the moly root a silent declaration of his intent. "Our alliance is not your concern," he said firmly. "We seek only to leave this island with our men restored."

Circe's eyes narrowed at the mention of the moly, a hint of anger flitting across her features. "You think it wise to bring the gods' protection into my realm?" she spat. "Very well, mortal. Let us see how well your little trick serves you."

Odysseus stepped forward, the moly root now clenched in his teeth. "You will release them," he said, his voice filled with authority that seemed to resonate through the very air. "Or face the wrath of Aika."

Circe's eyes narrowed, her amusement replaced with a hint of anger. "You think you threaten me with the wrath of a goddess?" she spat. "You are no match for me, mortal. I will do as I please with your men."

Odysseus felt the moly's power coursing through his veins, giving him the strength to stand firm. "If you harm Aika," he said through gritted teeth, "you will face the wrath of Athena herself. And I will not rest until I see you pay for your crimes."

Circe's smile grew cold and calculating. "Athena's wrath is a fearsome thing," she admitted. "But tell me, mortal, what makes you think Aika cares for your fate? Or for the fate of these... swine?" She waved a hand dismissively at the men.

Odysseus clenched his fists, the moly's power pulsing through his body. "I know Aika," he said with conviction. "Her heart is pure, her intentions noble. She is a beacon of light in the darkness of this world."

Circe's eyes narrowed. "Ah, so you've brought the wrath of a naive girl into my home," she murmured, her tone a mix of irritation and respect. "Very well, let us see if your friendship with a goddess holds any sway." She snapped her fingers, and the room filled with an unearthly light.

The ground beneath them trembled as creatures of myth and nightmare emerged from the shadows. Odysseus's heart pounded as he watched them approach, each step a testament to their primal power. "Fight, or flee," Circe whispered, her smile malicious.

Odysseus unsheathed his sword, the blade gleaming in the flickering light. His men, still trapped in their porcine forms, watched him with hope in their eyes. He knew he could not fail them. The monsters that Circe had conjured snarled and hissed, their forms twisted by her dark magic. "We fight," he said firmly, his voice resonating through the hall.

He thought of a creature he had once seen in a scroll, a hydra with serpents for heads, each one more terrifying than the last. But as the monsters surged forward, a calmness washed over him. He knew he had to protect his men, to save Aika, and to show Circe that she could not toy with them. With moly-infused strength, he met the first beast, a creature of shadow and malice, with a swift strike of his sword. The creature howled in pain and recoiled, its shadowy form dissipating into the ether.

Odysseus and Circe's monsters clashed in a symphony of chaos, their roars and snarls echoing through the grand hall. The air was charged with magic and the acrid scent of fear as the men-turned-pigs squealed in terror, their eyes pleading with their leader to save them. Aika watched from the sidelines, her heart racing as she searched for an opening to the magic barrier that held her, a way to help Odysseus.

Circe's eyes flashed with anger as she watched her creations fall to Odysseus' blade, one by one. "You've lost," he spat, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand disappointments.

Her expression grew fiercer. "My nymphs," she hissed, "are like my daughters. I protect them at all costs. The last time we let strangers live, we faced a heavy loss paid in their sweet, innocent lives. You've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust or mercy."

Odysseus stared at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What loss are you speaking of?" he asked, his voice strained from the effort of fighting off the beasts.

Circe's expression grew darker. "My dear, sweet nymphs," she said, her voice like a serpent slithering through the air. "Their purity, taken by those who claimed to be heroes. They came seeking refuge, and instead, they brought destruction." Her eyes flashed with a fiery anger that seemed to light the room. "But that is a tale for another time," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "For now, I tire of this game."

Odysseus, breathing heavily, watched as Circe's monsters retreated into the shadows. His heart raced with the adrenaline of battle, and he knew that he had to keep her talking. "What must I do to earn your trust?" he asked, his voice a mix of exhaustion and determination. "To save Aika and my men?"

Circe's smile grew sly. "You wish to leave my island with your men and your precious Aika," she said, her eyes gleaming with a newfound interest. "But as you've seen, I do not take kindly to threats."

Odysseus felt the room tighten around him, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the exertion of the battle.

Circe's smile grew softer, the anger in her eyes replaced with something akin to pity. "I want to believe in the goodness of your kind," she said, her voice a gentle caress. "But I have been burned before. However," she continued, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, "there are always exceptions to the rule."

Odysseus back closer, his sword lowering slightly. "What do you propose?" he asked, anticipation sparking within him.

Circe's eyes searched his, as if looking for something. Something genuine. Something that could convince her of his intentions. "I propose a test of sorts," she said finally, her voice smoother than silk. "A test of your true colors, Odysseus. If you wish to save your men and your precious Aika, you must first prove to me that you are worthy of their salvation."

Odysseus felt his heart skip a beat, the moly's power pulsing through him like a warning. He knew better than to trust the words of a goddess, especially one with a reputation like Circe's. But he had come too far, endured too much, to turn back now. "What must I do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Circe's eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and challenge. "Love," she mused. "Such a curious emotion for a mortal to feel for a goddess." She stepped closer to Odysseus, her hand trailing along the edge of his sword. "But love can also be a powerful weapon. Perhaps that is what you wish to prove to me?"

Odysseus felt a spark of anger, but he tamped it down. "I am only not driven by love," he said firmly. "But by loyalty and honor. I will do what I must to save them."

Circe leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "Loyalty and honor," she murmured. "Such quaint mortal notions. But if those are the weapons you wish to wield, then perhaps we can come to an understanding." She stepped forward, her hand trailing down his arm to his hand, which still gripped the hilt of his sword. "To save your men, you must show me a different kind of power. The power of a king willing to bend the will of a goddess."

Odysseus felt a shiver of anticipation run through him. He stared into Circe's eyes, searching for the truth in her words. "What is it you want from me?" he demanded, his hand tightening around the sword.

Circe leaned in closer, her breath warm and sweet. "I want you to understand the true nature of power," she murmured, her eyes never leaving him. "To wield it with care, not just brute strength."

Odysseus felt his resolve waver. Her words seemed to resonate with something deep within him, a truth he had long ago buried beneath his armor. "What do you want from me?" he asked again, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Circe leaned back, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. "I want to see if you are truly worthy of Aika's friendship," she said, her voice a purr. "To prove that your heart is not as dark as the stories would have me believe."

Odysseus felt a flicker of doubt. "What do you mean?"

Circe stepped closer, her eyes never leaving his. Her touch was like a brand, searing through his skin to his very soul. "To save Aika and your men," she murmured, her breath sweet with the promise of temptation, "you must submit to me."

Odysseus felt the warmth of Circe's body as she approached him, her eyes gleaming with a seductive power that seemed to suck the air from the room. The moly root in his pouch felt like a cold stone against his skin, a stark contrast to the fire that danced in her gaze. She swayed like a siren's tune, her aura a sweet caress that whispered of the power and passion that could be his if he would only bend to her will.

He took a deep breath, his mind racing. Twelve long years he had been away from Penelope, his faithful wife, his guiding star. The thought of her kept him anchored, a beacon of light in the dark sea of temptation that was Circe. "I can't," he said, his voice strained. "My duty is to my wife, to Ithaca. I must find a way home."

Circe's expression shifted, the seductive veneer slipping away to reveal a hint of something else. Something... almost kind. "What stops you?" she asked, her voice softer than he had ever heard it.

Odysseus' mind raced. "The god of the sea seeks my end." He searched Circe's eyes for any hint of deceit, but found only a strange, almost sad understanding. "I have angered him and he now stands in our way home."

Circe's smile grew sly. "Ah, Poseidon," she murmured, her eyes glinting with something that looked like mischievous understanding. "He is indeed a formidable foe." She paused for a moment, considering her next words. "But fear not, I know of a way to bypass his wrath."

Odysseus's heart skipped a beat, hope blooming in his chest. "What way?"

Circe leaned in, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that made him shiver. "There is a place," she whispered, "a realm of shadows where the dead whisper secrets and the living dare not tread. The Underworld, where Hades, the unyielding god of the dead, reigns supreme."

Odysseus felt a cold dread creep up his spine. "Why would you send me there?" he demanded, his grip on the sword tightening. "What good will that do us?"

Circe's smile grew more mysterious. "In the land of the dead, you will find the prophet Teiresias," she said, her voice a low whisper. "He can tell you how to appease Poseidon's wrath. He can show you the path home." Her eyes searched his, looking for the spark of understanding. "But the journey is fraught with danger, even for one as resourceful as you."

Odysseus's mind raced with questions. "Why would you help me?" he demanded, his suspicion clear.

Circe's smile grew mysterious, her eyes shimmering with an ancient wisdom. "Because," she said softly, "I too know the pain of watching those we care for suffer. And perhaps," she added with a sly wink, "because I am not entirely without heart."

Odysseus stared at her, his expression a mix of shock and skepticism. "You expect me to believe that?"

Circe's laugh was like the chiming of bells, clear and beautiful yet with an underlying sharpness. "Believe what you will," she said with a shrug. "But know that I speak the truth. The path to your home lies through the realm of the dead."

Odysseus stared at her, his mind racing. To enter the Underworld was a perilous journey, one that only the bravest of heroes had ever undertaken. Yet the hope of saving his men, of seeing his kingdom restored, was a siren's call he could not ignore. "I will go," he said, his voice firm.

Circe's smile grew, her eyes lighting up with a strange excitement. With a wave of her hand, the enchanted men transformed back into their human forms, their eyes wide with shock and relief. Aika rushed to Odysseus' side, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. The soldiers stumbled back to their feet, staring at the sorceress in awe.

"You're... you're letting us go?" one of the men stammered.

Circe's laugh was a melodious sound, the kind that could either soothe or shiver a man's soul. "Indeed, I am," she said, her voice a caress. "And Aika's friendship is worth more to me than your skepticism, Odysseus. But beware," she warned, her expression growing stern, "the Underworld is not a place for the faint of heart. It will test you in ways you cannot imagine."

"Thank you," Aika breathed, her eyes shimmering with relief and gratitude as she looked up at Circe. She smiled softly at the men, who were slowly recovering from their shock, their snouts receding and their human forms returning. The room was alive with whispers of awe as they took in their surroundings, their eyes darting from Circe to Odysseus and back again.

"Before you go," Circe said, her eyes gleaming with a kind of mirth that sent a shiver down Odysseus' spine, "You should all rest and feast. You will need your strength for the journey ahead."

The men, still dumbfounded by their sudden return to humanity, looked to their king for guidance. Odysseus nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Circe. "We accept your offer," he said, his voice low and cautious.

Circe's smile grew broader, a knowing glint in her eye. "Very well," she said, clapping her hands together. "Prepare yourselves for a feast worthy of Olympus. But remember," she warned with a wink to Aika, "eat not of the food that is offered to the gods, lest you wish to remain here forever."

The men looked at each other, the tension in the room palpable as they followed Circe's instructions, setting up a makeshift table with the finest meats and wines. The smells of roasting meats and baked bread filled the air, making their stomachs growl with hunger. They ate and drank, their eyes never leaving their host, the woman who had held them in thrall for so long.

As the feast continued, the soldiers whispered among themselves, their expressions a mix of awe and fear. They had seen the power that Circe wielded, the way she had turned them into pigs and back again with a mere snap of her fingers. Yet here she was, sharing her table with them, speaking of a world beyond the veil of mortality.

Aika watched as the men feasted and laughed, the horrors of their recent past momentarily forgotten. Her heart was filled with a warmth she hadn't felt in ages. She turned to Odysseus, her eyes shining with hope. "Thank you," she whispered.

Odysseus smiled, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Thank you, Circe," he said, his voice thick with gratitude. "I will not forget this kindness."

The goddess chuckled, a sound that seemed to resonate with the very fabric of the world. "You think too much of it, Odysseus," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Sometimes, a gesture of goodwill is all it takes to change the course of fate."

Me:...

Aika: Well...yeah that was what I was thinking too...

Hades: At least I get to see my niece again.