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Are you moving or not?!

No!

Are you moving or not?!

NO!

Wh-What a passionate debate! I can feel the heroic blood in their voices!

...But they're not actually saying anything.

They're just yelling at the top of their lungs. I don't even know what they're saying.

The dispute over Athenius's route has been brewing between the fruit farmers and the temple builders for ages.

Embarrassing, really, to make a random tourist off the street try to solve our dispute. Heck, even I couldn't tell half of what they're saying...

You said you wanted to know what they're saying...

Stop looking for trouble, Titi.

This 'random tourist off the street' has an idea.

Hey! Don't just wander in there! Things could get rough!

The craftsmen rep and the militiaman arguing on behalf of the fruit farmers are not budging in the slightest, their faces red with anger. They fail to notice the pair of pointy black ears poking out from beneath the stone table.

The tiny Feline girl leaps out and grabs their hands with a grin, bringing them together in a handshake.

Caught off guard, the two reps lose their balance and topple onto the stone table, staring at the jolly intruder.

Hey, who brought this girl to the temple? This is no place for children.

See, you're so unreasonable, even an outlander is embarrassed. You're a disgrace to Athenius!

Stop adding fuel to the fire!

Listen, girl, this is Minoan business. We don't need some foreigner telling us how to make up.

Who said anything about making up?

Whuh?

The only way to solve a problem is to face it directly. How long do you think the peace would last, even if you made up here and now?

Besides, when in Minos, do as the Minoans do. The heroic epics and fantastical stories of Minos are full of ancient wisdom. You don't need me to tell you how to solve your problems.

They say the mere mention of Heraces, the greatest Minoan warrior, sent enemies fleeing in terror.

But he never raised a hand against his fellow Minoans. If someone insulted him, he would challenge them to arm-wrestling.

Settle it with a contest of strength, eh? Sounds good! Spares us a sore throat.

I'm not done yet.

There is another legend about a silent hero, who was once a bold and passionate youth, surrounded by flowers and adoration.

As fate would have it, he learned a forbidden secret, knowledge that no one should possess, so he kept silent for thirty years.

Wait, we know the legend of Heraces, but who's this 'silent hero'? Did you just make him up on the spot?

Oh, it's a Minoan tale that my father used to tell me. It's rather obscure, but it's a really good parable—

Ahem. Anyway, I propose that you follow in the footsteps of ancient Minoans, and settle this with an arm-wrestling match.

But with one extra condition—you only get to talk if you win, no matter how pissed you might be.

Never heard that rule before.

Are you poor with words, or weak of limb?

Enough talk. Let's do it.

Alright! The inaugural First Temple Arm-Wrestling Tournament is on. Ready, set—

Go!

Well, well, well! The militiaman looks lean, but he's got skill, and he takes round one when the big guy loses focus for a second!

You—

Shut it! Loser doesn't get to talk!

New apples can't get out with all the stone piled up at the crossing! The orchards are all in the mountain's shadow, and the apples that haven't ripened yet don't get any sun! The whole harvest's going to the dumps at this rate!

One-nil. Round two.

Hey, all those muscles ain't for nothing! Looks like hauling marble is good exercise!

We can't move the stone until the apples are out of the way! Besides, the building of the First Temple was inspired by the Minoan heroes! Who's gonna take responsibility if the work's delayed? You?

One-all. Next!

Apple harvesting and hauling stone... I see.

Minoans sure are fun to watch! But things will get less interesting when they start getting tired...

Hey, why did they stop?

They've realized the arm-wrestling isn't about determining a victor, but giving them an opportunity to hear each other out.

When you're angry, your ears stop working, and even simple things become complicated, much less long-standing disputes.

You're more thoughtful than you look.

But how do you solve the core problem, now that you've gotten emotion out of the way?

*pant*... *pant*...

*pant*... *pant*...

Looks like a draw.

Young lady...

Call me Titi.

It's not like we screwed the fruit farmers on purpose, Titi.

We've got a lot of hands in the rebuilding, but they only quarry stone when they please, where they please. I brought fifteen tons of marble down the mountain by myself yesterday, and it's still far from enough.

Look, we understand. But the apples don't care.

Increasing quarrying efficiency, while getting enough sun for the apples... why don't we meet in the middle, then?

What do you mean?

Just remove the peak that's blocking the sunlight.

Hahahaha! Some 'middle'! That's the craziest thing I've ever heard!

It is intriguing, though.

Out of personal curiosity, I studied the urban planning and natural environment of Athenius on my way here.

The peak that's in the way of the sunlight is only a secondary peak, with soft soil at the top and a large marble layer underneath—it would make an excellent quarry.

You mean we can get sunlight to the orchards by leveling the peak, without having to change the city's route? Is that even possible?

The fruit farmers must join the quarriers.

Adding more hands is the quickest way to increase efficiency. We'll also need to get the craftsmen scattered across the mountains together.

If you can carry fifteen tons of marble a day all by yourself...

Then leveling the peak is not impossible.

The rebuilding of the temple was the collective decision of the citizens of Athenius. We certainly won't complain, if we can solve the sunlight problem at the same time.

I'll go talk to the farmers!

Problem solved!

All thanks to you, Titi.

Don't mention it.

It looks amazing, even in its incomplete state... Now, I'm even more curious about the one running this project.

Speaking of which, we still have a problem.

What is it?

The original proponent of the First Temple project, Pallas, went missing last night.

'...Our joy was for both of us, but now eternal peace is yours alone.'

'The breeze in the mountains of Heria and the rivers of the Agnes Plains shall shine in your eyes no more.'

'Neither shall my heart know the tranquility of night and the leisure of day again...'

It's been seven years, Ithakos, old friend.

The tall warrior places the cyclamen flowers before the white grave marker.

His movements are light and gentle, but several white petals still fall upon the ground.

You're late.

I'm simply passing through, on my way to a burdenbeast ranch with a view.

You can find all the excuses you want, but you know you can't let it go.

Neither can I.

You haven't once visited the Endymion Temple in your five years in Athenius.

The first and last time you came was when you brought Ithakos's bloody chiton.

I don't need the guidance of the heroes.

But you continue to dream the same dream. You blame yourself for sending Ithakos across the river, to the battle where he died.

The river runs only in my dreams now, since the Sargonians built a dam upstream.

It brought the melting snow from Heria's peaks to my homeland, and it brought him...

Ithakos was one of the few true friends that I had, one who was never concerned for who I am or what I can do.