act48side

Please, you never passed your classical drama courses and it shows.

You had the exact same expression on your face when you submitted your withdrawal from priest school after contracting Oripathy.

It was the day before the debate contest, and we were practicing archery as usual.

You were a much better archer than I was. I was pissed and intentionally fired a shot into the distance with your bow. The accident happened when you were looking for the arrow...

I carried you down the mountain and ran into Xanthos. He ferried us to the best Oripathy doctor available, but you got infected in the end.

And so we missed our seventh debate contest that would have broken our 3-3 tie.

Is this really the right time to talk about this?

Since when did Minoans need the 'right time' to debate? In the halls of Theros Temple, on the streets with drunkards and gamblers, everywhere is fair game.

I thought you would only be down for a day or two, and we would be back in the competition in a couple of years. But you just ran away.

We never decided the winner all these years. It's about time you gave me back this last debate, Lykeion.

What's the topic?

Let's say... whether an Infected can become a hero.

Hekádemos!

It's inappropriate.

Why? It's a topic you're intimately familiar with.

'Oripathy saps the heroic spirit.' It's conventional wisdom that we all take for granted. When a child questions it, he or she is quickly put down by the elders who cite various heroic legends.

There are no Minoan heroes with Oripathy in the legends, no depictions of Originium crystals on the temple statues.

Therefore, you, a student who aspired to be a hero, gave up on becoming a priest before the rules had a chance to become an obstacle...

Your every deed is representative of your position on this topic.

Don't bother trying to provoke me. We both know there's no chance I'll lose this debate.

I thought about starting over, and Master Xanthos encouraged me. But I realized that someone who knows he has no future cannot commit himself to anything.

Regular suppressant injections, a regular lifestyle, and the newest Rhodes Island treatment may make the patient live longer.

But I'm not satisfied with just living. Yet it seems to be the only thing I can do, and I feel nothing but shame about it.

The worst thing about Oripathy is not the physical torment, but the inevitable deadline that it sets for all dreams and aspirations.

Even if Oripathy doesn't sap the heroic spirit, even if you could become a priest after becoming infected, even if the door to becoming a hero used to be open once—

That door is closed now. Do you understand?

I see.

In that case... I win this last debate.

Who said the debate's over?

What?

You've demonstrated your position with your actions. I shall do the same, Lykeion. I will make you a hero of Minos.

Have you any idea what you're saying?

There's no other way to get you to admit defeat, is there?

Xanthos could encourage you, or the deeds of other Infected could move you, but deep down, you would not admit that being infected or not has nothing to do with one's heroic spirit.

In that case, the simplest way is to make a hero out of you.

I've already quit my job. Wherever you go now, I'll follow, and do everything to make you keep on living, make you meet more people, make you be a part of important things.

What is this, some newfangled punishment? What do YOU get out of it?

You know I was never the most motivated guy. I grew up to be that guy who always punches out exactly on time and never breaks a sweat when he could help it. Heroes are way too far away from my life, and I don't want to become like them, no matter how glorious it might seem.

I'll make a hero out of you, a true hero, one whom everybody recognizes. As for what's in it for me—

I get to win our last debate. That's all I want.

...You're out of your mind.

Thanks for the compliment. I'll take that as a yes.

Oh, but you're late-stage, aren't you? That's a pretty big disadvantage for me... is it true that you have difficulty seeing and you get dizzy easily?

What are you talking about? I'm just mildly infected. I don't have those kinds of symptoms.

Mildly infected? But you keep going to the Rhodes Island clinic, Kyría Athopoulou had to pay you a home visit, and you rammed the hotel kitchen because you couldn't see the stop sign clearly.

You've got it all wrong... it's Master Xanthos whose condition is serious.

Xanthos?

We never had a plan, Hekádemos.

Master Xanthos broke out of prison with me because he wanted to do something that was worthwhile to him, while he still could.

Even if the price is his life.

You shouldn't have come here, Xanthos. People are gathering at the temple. You might have been able to avoid the crowd when you came, but it's going to be much harder to leave. Go, now.

I came to say goodbye. I don't think we'll meet again.

Whether the farewell is face-to-face or not doesn't matter. What matters is that you're at peace. Go back to your homeland, Xanthos.

Go and see that old river. Even if it has dried up, the melted snow always flows down from the mountains. Maybe another water source nourishes your homeland now.

I know. The priestess of Endymion watches over all our souls.

You always give us false hope.

I remember the day you first came to Athenius. It was a rainy night, and you walked into my temple with Ithakos's bloody chiton.

You were downtrodden and lost. But you told me about your promise with him when he went to war. You said you imagined yourself ferrying him to the temple on the other side of the city on the Delphi Canal.

It was the flame of hope, faint and weak, but burning nonetheless. It is not a false hope that I instilled. It is a real hope, burning inside your heart.

It was real.

It still is, only that I had hoped you would nourish it with life, but it grew into something else as you ruminated over it.

Going back to your homeland, you might remember the past that was even longer ago, and let your pain be soothed by the voices of the past in the never-changing winds.

What about the Sargonians?

I know you think about the exchange ceremony. Divine revelation has already made arrangements.

When the harp that belongs to Minos sings its song again, the people will once again be united, and Kereseira shall drive out the outlanders.

Divine revelation again.

There was always a question that I wanted to ask.

What IS divine revelation? How does it get people to willingly go to their deaths?

It's the power of faith and belief. It's the accumulation of a thousand years of dreaming about heroes, the thing that makes Minoans Minoan.

We do not have 'gods', in the sense of the word that the outlanders use. Our gods are our heroes, each and every one of them.

Our hero Kereseira was once an ordinary woman.

It was the guidance of divine revelation that led her to sing the songs of heroes and unite the suffering Minoans on the path that leads to where we are today.

Divine revelation represents your deepest desires. Believe in it, and it will guide your path and make you a hero.

Do you mean that Ithakos longed for death?

Nine years ago, Ithakos came to the temple and asked me if his dream of a river running red with blood was divine revelation.

I wanted to say no and tell him not to go, but I couldn't do it.

Divine revelation poured forth from my tongue, but I could not stop it or alter it, because it was not my place to deny someone else their most earnest desire.

As for Ithakos...

The blood and tears shed in the construction of the nomadic city of Athenius run deep in his bloodline. It was ever in his mind even when we served the temple together.

He sought a way out for his soul, a place beyond Athenius that he could build and protect.

But death was the inevitable price for this wish.

Perhaps you're telling the truth, but I have a hard time accepting it.

I know. Suffering rages in your blood, which pale words cannot soothe. Nothing I say can truly console you.

But I wish you could—*sigh*

It's been five years since you came to Athenius, five years since we met.

You spend most of your time at the river. You never come to the temple, and we rarely see each other except in front of Ithakos's grave.

I never needed the guidance of a priest.

But I was always watching you.

You were Ithakos's friend, the last trace that his life left behind. I could find some small comfort if you lived well—it was one little bit of selfishness that I allowed myself, outside of my duties as priestess.

I watched you acclimate to Athenius's rivers, watched you take in an apprentice, and watched the two of you go about your days together.

Lykeion is an honest, serious boy. It made my heart at ease that he was taking care of you.

Empty words could not comfort you. But what about these details of life? Have you not found comfort in it, even for an instant?

Was Athenius everything you thought it would be? There must have been something that was better than you expected, wasn't there?

...Maybe.

Then go think back to it, and think back to your past. And think about whether you've forgotten anything that was more important.

You need to live well... even if only for Ithakos's sake.

I hear something outside. I need to take a look.

The hour is near, Xanthos. Leave quickly, and avoid the crowds.

The temple's so big... how do I get to the audience seats of the theater from here...

That Corinian priest with a long name said he was 'going first'... or was it 'going away for a moment'? Is he coming back?