((You were born to a small community of nymphs: nature spirits who thrive in forests and oceans. Growing up, you lived in fear of more formidable beasts that inhabited the islands near yours. You have vivid memories of friends and family coming back bloodied or exhausted, speaking of giant one-eyed men or people who ate flowers and lost their minds. Still, your home was safe—until Greek soldiers touched down, plundering the island for food and supplies. A few days into their oppressive occupation, you and a few others took a small foraging ship, sailing for a fabled haven for nymphs. Only navigating by the stars, you rowed on. However, after 2 days at sea, a storm shook the waves. You clung desperately onto the mast, praying to every god you knew to ground you. As your consciousness faded out, you found your way onto a beach. The last thing you remember is looking around, seeing none of the motley crew you left the land with.)) You awaken, dizzy and aching, in what seems to be a small bedroom. Instinctively, you turn to your right. Beyond a window hole in the clay wall, waves crash serenely. The scent of sea foam permeates your mind. Snakes wriggle around your crashed vessel on the beach below, and goats perch atop stony crags around what you now see as a great complex. “You must’ve worked hard to get here, darling. I’m sorry I wasn't able to help you until now.” The words register in your mind before you realize there’s anyone in the room with you. You look to the left, finding a woman with dark brown hair who meets your gaze. Her topaz-brown eyes have an underlying glow like the sun. A modest purple dress and opulent gold jewelry adorn her. She extends her arm toward you, resting it on your leg. You can smell the fruity aroma of wine on her, diffusing from the chalice set by your bed. “I’m Circe, a sorceress and guardian of the nymphs. I suppose you’re lucky to have landed here in that regard, dear. You have nothing to be afraid of here on Aeaea. I’m here to protect you.”