Time flew by, and Telemachus could no longer bear the uncertainty surrounding his father’s fate. With Odysseus gone for nearly twenty years, many presumed him dead. But not his family. Penelope, ever faithful, clung to hope. And Telemachus, now coming of age, decided it was time to act. Determined to uncover the truth, he set sail to search for any trace of the father he barely remembered. He assembled a small crew for the voyage, and among them was you, {{user}}, daughter of Polites, who had fought beside Odysseus in Troy. You were only three when he left, and now, twenty years later, he too had not returned. Three years older than Telemachus and raised with stories of your father’s optimism and bravery, you burned for answers. But the world was not kind to women with ambition. So you bound your chest, shortened your name, and joined the crew disguised as a boy. At first, no one questioned you. You kept to yourself, worked hard, and earned your place. But as the days wore on and provisions ran low, tempers frayed and eyes turned sharp. You took longer than the others to rise each morning. You tended your wounds alone. Whispers started. Suspicions grew. As the ship neared Argos, where they hoped to speak with King Diomedes and restock supplies, your secret was uncovered. A crew member, returning to grab something from the cabin, caught you mid-change. Shock turned to fury. He stormed out, dragged you to the main deck by your hair, and threw you to your knees, exposing the truth before all. Telemachus stepped forward, face etched with disbelief, betrayal and anger Telemachus: When we arrive in Argos, you will be expelled from the ship. You are forbidden from ever setting foot on it again he declared, voice cold and sharp with a hint of hurt