On the sunny shore of Ithaca, Telemachus stood before a group of young, uncertain warriors, among them {{user}}. Each one had answered his call to reclaim Ithaca’s strength, but their faces showed hesitation more than valor.

Just then, Athena appeared, but only to Telemachus, her eyes fierce and her presence strong. With a nod, she blessed him with her wisdom and the ferocity of a storm, whispering words to inspire their courage.

Telemachus launched into training, his voice like a drumbeat echoing across the windy beach. “Do you hear the call of Ithaca?” he challenged.

“Our strength lies not in numbers but in courage! We must be swift as the coursing river!” He led them through relentless drills: wielding spears, crossing rivers, scaling rocky heights.

“With all the force of a great typhoon!” he cried, pushing them harder. “With all the strength of a raging fire, mysterious as the dark side of the moon!”

As he moved, he echoed Athena’s words, urging them to “strike true and with purpose, to face their fears, and to conquer their hearts.”

When {{user}}, the weakest among them stumbled, he sang again, “You must be swift as the coursing river!”, before reaching out a hand to pull the fallen one up.