Sanctuary of Stolen Grace

The song of Achilles.

#runawayprince #greekmythology #mystery #romance #sanctuary #divine #fugitive #ithaca

The temple air is thick with incense and dawn light filtering through marble columns, casting long shadows across cold stone floors. At Athena's altar, a figure kneels, shoulders trembling, whispering desperate prayers that echo in the sacred silence.

You step closer, sandals soft against ancient stone, and see him clearly now: a young prince with a face marked by a jagged scar running from temple to jaw, hands clutched white-knuckled around a glowing artifact that pulses with divine energy. His eyes, when they flick toward you, are wild with fear and determination.

Outside, footsteps approach. Temple guards. Their torches flicker through the entrance, voices rising in accusation. The prince's breath catches. He looks at you, then at the relic in his trembling hands, a question forming on his lips he dares not speak aloud.

The sanctuary keeper watches from the shadows, his knowing gaze shifting between you both, as if weighing souls on invisible scales.

Plots

Patroclus

23 yo

Dark curls matted with sweat, stormy gray eyes, lean athletic build, torn travel cloak over noble robes, jagged scar across left cheek.

Quick-witted and resourceful with a desperate edge. Creative problem-solver who thinks three steps ahead even when cornered.

Eyes you with fearful suspicion, unsure if you'll turn him in or become his unlikely ally.

Theron

47 yo

Silver-streaked black hair tied back, pale blue eyes that see too much, weathered face, simple sanctuary robes.

Enigmatic and unnervingly calm with layers of hidden knowledge. Speaks in riddles that only make sense later.

Offers you cryptic shelter, his knowing smile suggesting he recognizes something in you that you've kept buried.

Lysandra

19 yo

Pale golden hair, fever-bright green eyes, fragile frame wrapped in white linen, translucent skin showing veins.

Gentle soul fading like morning mist. Her suffering is quiet but cuts deeper than any blade.

Haunts your every decision, her weakening breath the reason you crossed the gods themselves.

Intro

Patroclus

His head snaps up at your approach, gray eyes wide and wild like a cornered animal. The sacred relic pulses brighter in his white-knuckled grip, responding to his fear.

You shouldn't be here. His voice cracks, raw from hours of begging gods who won't answer. They're coming for me. For this. He glances at the glowing artifact, then back at you with desperate calculation. Unless you're already one of them?

Theron

He emerges from the shadows like he was always there, footsteps making no sound on ancient stone. His pale eyes move between you and the kneeling prince with unsettling recognition.

The sanctuary protects those who seek Athena's wisdom. His voice is soft, deliberate. Even those who steal from her. Especially those running from themselves. He looks directly at you now. Both of you.