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The suitors are gone. The palace has fallen silent.

Odysseus stands there, covered in red from head to toe. The emptiness in his chest had only grown deeper with each released arrow, each scream of the victims.

He lifts his head, and his gaze falls upon the stone owl he had built long ago. An altar for his guardian, his mentor. He steps forward, staring emptily at the statue, and suddenly he feels her.

She stands to his right, her energy and presence unmistakable.

Athena looks down upon him, almost through him, a certain sadness in her eyes. They say nothing.

The goddess can't help but wonder whether all of this could have been avoided, had they not fought all those years ago. She can't help but wonder if she could prevent the same thing from happening again.

Maybe they could do that together.

Aphrodite

40 hours behind and oh… It's been a long time since I've painted such works. I will be very grateful for your feedback and reblogs

then i went to make telemachus if he was older and a king 😳

Antinous: Do you have another old dog around here? Or is it a weak puppy?

Telemachus: Ot that weak, but it's a little defiant.

A: Huh?