OFFICIAL DESIGNS PF THE SERVANTS!
Tryphosa (ΤĎĎ
ĎáżśĎÎą)
Her name means âdelicate,â ârefined,â and âsoft.â
Palace Servant / Companion Attendant
Tryphosa works as a servant in Odysseusâs palace, taking care of the womenâs quarters: fabrics, perfumes, garments, personal care, and the companionship of the women of the household.
Thanks to her bright personality and her gift for conversation, she is often requested as a companion during domestic work, ritual preparations, and long moments of waiting.
She is not just a servant: she is a reassuring presence, a silent confidante, and a voice that fills the silence.
Tryphosa has a very slender and graceful figure, which she carefully shapes through soft, draped clothing.
She prefers light tunics, high belts that accentuate the waist, and fabrics that soften her silhouette.
She wears her hair long and tends to it with great care.
Her beauty is not the beauty of strength, but of transformation.
She has features that naturally draw attention: deep eyes, elegant hands, and a way of moving that feels almost like dancing.
Many describe her as âstrange,â but no one ever forgets her.
The monarch butterfly represents her perfectly: transformation, migration, survival, and identity.
Tryphosa did not become herself all at once â she built herself slowly, piece by piece, like a creature that must first dissolve in order to be reborn.
The butterfly, too, is fragile only in appearance.
* Talkative and charismatic
* Emotionally intelligent
Tryphosa talks a lot, laughs easily, and always seems to know exactly what to say to lighten the hearts of others.
âShe could talk even to walls.â
She is often the sunlight in the room, but she rarely lets anyone see the storm inside her.
Behind her sweetness lives a constant fracture: the feeling of being trapped inside a body she perceives as the wrong garment.
She does not have modern words to define it, but she knows that feeling perfectly.
She knows she is a woman.
Even if the world has no space to say it.
Tryphosa was born from a Greek servant woman and a foreign merchant from the southern lands the Greeks called Aithiopia.
She never truly knew her father; all she had left of him were stories, as he returned to his homeland shortly after her birth and never came back.
From childhood â or rather, as a boy in the eyes of others â she showed a softness that the world around her considered wrong.
She preferred looms to wooden weapons.
The womenâs chambers to the courtyards of men.
Her mother protected her for as long as she could, teaching her small secrets: how to carry fabrics, how to move with grace, how to survive without drawing too much cruelty.
But protection never lasts forever.
When her mother died, Tryphosa was taken to serve in a Mycenaean palace, where she quickly learned that being invisible was a form of survival.
And yet, she was never made to be invisible.
With time, she began to build herself on her own: she let her hair grow long, learned to use clothing as armor, smiles as defense, and kindness as power.
Some pretended not to see.
But very few people truly understand how much courage it takes, every single day, simply to exist.
Tryphosa does not dream of great glory.
She dreams of something far more difficult:
Eventually, she was sold to the palace of the King of Ithaca, where she was given the chance to begin the life she had always longed for â a life where no one knew her past, and no one could define her before she could define herself.
Hesychion (៊ĎĎĎΚον)
His name carries the meaning of âquiet,â âcalm,â and âpeaceful,â reflecting both his nature and the quiet strength he carries within himself.
Blacksmith / Royal Forge Supplier
Hesychion works as a blacksmith in Ithaca, owner of a respected forge that supplies weapons, armor, and metalwork directly to the palace of King Odysseus.
He forges spears, swords, shields, and armor for the palace guards, as well as smaller crafted objects such as jewelry, devotional statuettes, and household metalwork.
Though his hands are shaped by fire and iron, there is nothing harsh in himâonly patience, discipline, and quiet devotion.
He is known as a dependable man, one whose presence feels steady, like stone or old oak.
Hesychion is a broad-shouldered and imposing man, strong from years of labor at the forge.
His body carries the weight of hard work: scarred hands, powerful arms, and the solid posture of someone used to standing against heat and hardship.
He is not youthful in beauty, but striking in presenceâmature, grounded, and calm.
His face is often serious but never cold, softened by kind eyes and the quiet patience in his expression.
There is something deeply reassuring about him, like the warmth of a hearth in winter.
He moves slowly, deliberately, never wasting energy or words.
Many trust him instinctively.
The ox represents him far better than the bull ever could: strength without violence, endurance without pride, and power guided by patience.
The ox is not a creature of rage, but of burden, labor, and unwavering loyalty.
Like the ox, Hesychion carries weight without complaint.
He simply continues forward.
Steady. Faithful. Unshaken.
And beneath that strength lies a quiet grief few truly see.
* Hardworking and disciplined
Hesychion is not a man of many words, but when he speaks, people listen.
He has no cruelty in him, no hidden malice, and no desire for power.
He helps because it feels natural to do so.
He is the kind of man others lean on without realizing it.
Though deeply wounded by loss, he does not let grief make him bitter.
Instead, he carries it like iron in the soulâheavy, but forged into strength.
What keeps him standing is faith:
the belief that even suffering has meaning, and that the gods do not abandon those who continue walking.
Hesychion was born in Greece, the only son among nine sisters, in a humble family of blacksmiths.
His father was a respected smith, a hardworking man who taught him from childhood how to shape iron, control fire, and understand the soul of metal.
From a young age, Hesychion loved the forge.
To him, it was never just laborâit was creation, discipline, and devotion.
His father often told him that iron remembered the hands that shaped it.
And so Hesychion learned to work with patience, never force.
But time is merciless even to good men.
His father fell ill first, and despite every prayer offered to the gods, he passed away.
Not long after, his mother too was taken by sickness.
Left alone with nine younger sisters depending on him, Hesychion made a decision:
they would leave for a larger city, where work would be more plentiful, where he could provide for them properly, where their future might still be saved.
But Poseidon can be cruel.
During the journey by sea, a violent storm struck their boat.
All nine of his sisters drowned.
Hesychion alone survived, carried helplessly by the sea, drifting between life and death.
When he finally washed ashore, he found himself in Ithaca.
There, an elderly man found him and took him in.
Hesychion would later believe this was no coincidence, but the mercy of Hephaestus himselfâthe god he had always prayed to.
For the old man was also a blacksmith.
Childless and nearing retirement, the man took Hesychion as his apprentice.
Over time, affection grew between them, not as master and student, but as father and son.
The old smith saw in him not only talent, but goodness.
And Hesychion, who had lost everything, found something like family again.
When the old man finally chose to retire, he entrusted the entire forge to Hesychion.
Only later did the young smith discover that the workshop served directly the palace of King Odysseus, forging weapons and armor for the royal guards.
It was through these deliveries that Hesychion came to know the nine palace servants:
Galene, Melia, Tamasvi, Lysandra, Elpis, Alethe, Thaleia, Dione, and Chione.
From the very first moment, something in his heart recognized them.
To him, it felt like a sign.
As though the gods, in their strange and painful mercy, had returned his beloved sisters to him in another form.
From then on, he grew deeply attached to them.
He often brought the girls small gifts forged by his own hands: delicate metal jewelry, little iron charms, or tiny statues of the gods and goddesses they worshipped for their household altars.
He never asked for anything in return.
Hesychion still carries immense guilt for surviving when his sisters did not.
Some nights, the sea still visits him in dreams.
But what makes him strong is faith.
To remain grateful to the gods, even through grief.
Because to Hesychion, endurance itself is a form of prayer.
