Back at the Start (02)

Kastor straightens, his expression softening into something more curious, even vulnerable. "Huh." He scratches the back of his neck, glancing at you. "That’s... kind of terrifying, honestly. I mean, what if what’s inside isn’t... good enough?"

The question lands heavily in the room, and for a moment, all you can hear is the hum of magic in the air.

Circe smiles gently, her gaze shifting between the two of you. "That’s the beauty of it, Kastor. Art isn’t about perfection. It’s about truth. And there is always beauty in truth - even when it’s imperfect."

Kastor looks down, a faint flush rising to his cheeks, and you see him swallow hard. He meets your eyes briefly, then shrugs with a crooked smile. "Guess that means I’m never touching that thing," he says, his voice light but carrying an edge of sincerity.

Kastor stiffens slightly at your praise, his hand instinctively going to the sketchpad tucked under his arm. "Uh, I’m not sure that’s necessary," he mutters, shooting you a glance that’s equal parts sheepish and amused. But you’re already smiling at him with that look he can never quite refuse, and he sighs, flipping the sketchpad open to the page. "Okay, but, uh... full disclosure - it’s not exactly... temple-appropriate," he says, his voice low, though there’s a glint in his eyes as he hands the sketch to your mother.

Circe arches an elegant brow as she takes the pad, and when her eyes land on the drawing, you watch her reaction carefully. Your mother’s lips curl into a slow smile as she takes in the details, her sharp gaze flicking between the drawing and Kastor. "I see," she says, her tone rich with amusement. "You’ve got quite the eye, Kastor."

"Thanks. I, uh... just draw what I see," he says softly, trying to keep calm under her praise.

Your mother hums thoughtfully, handing the pad back to him. "Well, what you see is remarkable. Jules is fortunate to have someone who captures her so beautifully." You feel your cheeks heat, but there’s no missing the warmth in her words - or the pride in Kastor’s shy smile.

Circe’s attention shifts back to you, her expression softening. "It’s a gift to see someone so clearly, and rarer still to share that vision with others. I hope you cherish it as much as I suspect he cherishes you."

Kastor clears his throat awkwardly, quickly tucking the sketchpad away. "Right. Well, thanks for, uh, not freaking out about it," he mumbles, avoiding both of your gazes.

That's when you remember exactly what the last sketch was...

What do you do?

Circe smiles at your suggestion, her eyes glinting with affection and amusement. "I thought you’d never ask. Come, my lovely daughter - let’s feast like the gods you were born to be." She sweeps her hand toward a side corridor, leading you and Kastor through the temple to an open-air terrace overlooking the town below. The terrace is a masterpiece of architectural grace, framed by marble columns wrapped in climbing vines of flowering ivy. A long table carved from a single slab of gleaming obsidian sits at its center, adorned with gold accents and soft, shimmering lanterns that glow even in daylight.

The meal awaiting you is an array of delights, each dish a masterpiece in itself. Platters of roasted lamb, seasoned with fragrant rosemary and garlic, sit beside bowls of olive oil shimmering with flecks of crushed herbs. There’s fresh bread, its crust crackling golden-brown, alongside soft cheeses wrapped in fig leaves. Bowls of fruit—pomegranates, figs, and golden apples—glitter like jewels, while delicate pastries, dusted with honey and crushed pistachios, tempt you with their sweetness.

Pitchers of wine and cool water infused with slices of citrus and sprigs of mint stand ready, and the air smells of warm spices and salt carried in from the sea breeze. Circe gestures for you to sit, her smile indulgent. "Let this be the first of many meals you share here, Jules. I’ve had this feast prepared to honor your arrival. My table - and my world - are yours whenever you wish it."

As you sit and feel the weight of your mother’s love in every detail, a strange mix of gratitude and belonging settles over you. The terrace is bathed in golden sunlight, and as the breeze stirs your hair, it’s impossible to imagine a more perfect welcome - or a more perfect moment.

Circe smiles warmly at your question, delicately lifting a slice of lamb with her fork. "My favorite parts?" she muses, her voice soft as the sea breeze that flutters through the terrace. "The mornings, perhaps. It's so different than "the island", you know. When the sun rises over the hills and paints the sky with fire. The air is so quiet then, filled with nothing but birdsong and the rustling of leaves." She takes a sip of her wine, her eyes distant. "It reminds me that even in a world of gods and magic, there’s beauty in simplicity."

She sets her goblet down and continues, "My days are... full, in their way. I oversee the growth of this world, guide its people when needed. They bring me their questions, their struggles, and I do what I can to help. It’s a quieter existence than you might imagine, but I take pride in watching what we’ve built flourish."

Her gaze softens, and she leans back slightly. "As for company... There are the Titans, of course. Prometheus visits now and then to discuss the people and their progress. Hyperion also comes by occasionally. He spends much of his time exploring the boundaries of Protigi, ensuring its skies remain radiant and its horizons vast." She smirks faintly. "He’s a thinker, that one. Always dreaming of what might come next." Circe’s expression shifts slightly, as though she’s considering whether to say more. Finally, she adds, "But I would not call this a lonely life. My work fills me, and I have you now, my darling. That is more than enough."

You sense there’s more to her story, but before you can press, Circe turns her attention to Kastor, fixing him with an almost mischievous smile. "Tell me, young son of Athena - do you intend to keep drawing my daughter for the rest of your days, or will you find a way to truly keep up with her?"

Kastor freezes mid-bite, clearly caught off guard. He glances at you, then back at Circe, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Jules doesn’t need anyone to keep up with her. She’s... unstoppable." He scratches the back of his neck and adds, "But if she’ll have me around, I’ll be here. Drawing her. Until she gets bored with me."

Circe raises an elegant brow, her smile deepening. "Good," she says simply, her tone carrying a hint of approval. "Because she deserves someone who can see her for who she truly is."

Kastor sets down his fork and leans back - a gesture you’ve come to recognize as his tell for when he’s feeling both flattered and unsure. "A gallery, huh?" he says, his voice soft. "I don’t know, Jules. Most of my stuff doesn’t make it past the sketchpad stage. It’s... kind of personal, you know? Not sure anyone wants to see my rough ideas hanging on a wall."

But there’s a flicker in his expression, something hopeful beneath his words. He glances at you, his lips quirking into a half-smile. "Still... It’d be cool to try. If you think my stuff’s worth it, maybe it is."

Circe sets her goblet down with a quiet but deliberate motion, drawing both your attention and Kastor’s. Her tone is warm but firm, the kind that brooks no arguments. "Art is meant to be shared, Kastor. Even the rawest sketches carry truth and beauty, especially when they reflect the artist’s heart. Your perspective, as Jules put it, is different - and that is precisely why it belongs in her gallery."

She leans forward slightly, fixing Kastor with a knowing look. "If the thought of a gallery feels daunting, consider this: You’ve already shared your work with the most critical audience there is - yourself. The rest? It’s simply an extension of that courage." Her gaze softens as it shifts to you. "And my daughter wouldn’t offer such a place lightly. If she sees value in your work, Kastor, you would do well to trust her."

Circe tilts her head slightly, "Leave this place? But darling, you could open a gallery here tomorrow." She says it like it's the simplest thing. "There are many artists here who would love a chance to be featured in your gallery... alongside your creations, of course."