The king of Ithaca had returned from war after 20 years to come back to 108 horrible men flooding his halls, trying to overpower his wife and son. Only a few hours after arriving, the halls were dark and so very bloody with corpses of the men.

Servants that passed by the slaughter of men ran off in horror as their screams filled the palace like the morning sun. The screams never died off, they echoed through the halls while an eerie silence rang in the suitors ears as they quietly snuck around.

Toward the end of said slaughter, Odysseus found a few of the men about to kill Telemachus. It had only enraged the king even more, and the speed of murder sped up. That was until he swiped at the last man alive, Telemachus shouted at his father to stop.

But that wasn’t what made Odysseus pause, it was the boys blood. It had a gold shimmer to it. The boy trembling at his feet wasn’t human, and by the looks of it; he had horns. “Father he isn’t one of them! He’s my friend.” Telemachus cried, stumbling over to help the horned boy.

Odysseus stared in confusion as his shoulders relaxed, the boy could’ve been a Satyr. But the shimmering blood indicated a god. The kid was half god he assumed.