Hirodias walked through the camps and noticed that except for the old ruins nearby, there were no permanent structures. The entire city was made up of tents, and could be dismantled overnight. He had heard stories that Menathinion used to be one of the first large cities of the world with towers that reached the sky. As he looked around, all he saw were people living on the ground. Hirodias pulled the hood over his head and continued walking.

A child ran into him without looking, bounced back, and fell.

Andreus picked him up. "Look where you run," he told the boy.

"I will sirs," the boy said. “Excuse me. I'm going to see the puppets."

"Child, tell me your name," Hirodias said.

"Nikomedis," the boy replied. “Today is puppets day. Do you want to see the puppets? It's this way."

The Gamesh boxers shrugged at Hirodias and they all followed the boy.

"Where are your parents?" Andreus asked.

"Don’t have a mother, she died when I was a baby," he said as he wove through the seams between campsites. "My father left for work and hasn't come home for a while. My grandfather takes care of me now. He’s the oldest grandfather in all the camps.”

Another boy of the same age sprinted out from a tent and ran with Nikomedis. They slogged through some mud and climbed a small hill. When Hirodias caught up, he found the gathering of children at the top of the hill, sitting around a makeshift stage made of old boards and planks of wood. A handful of grown men and women stood at the edge of the sitting children. On the stage a square shaped man with a large mustache stood behind a box and was pulling on the strings of puppets. He wore a dark blue coat with white pants that had red stripes, and reminded Hirodias of the entertainers he would see back in Isimil. Nikomedis and his friend plopped in an empty spot while Hirodias and the Gamesh boxers stood behind the children with their arms crossed.

“And now here is the story our fearless hero Urias,” the puppeteer began. “You know him as one of the greatest Arkromenyons that have ever lived. But before he became famous, he had to go on a journey set by his forefathers to defeat all his enemies. Here he comes in the great ancient forest on his journey to defeat his last enemy so he can become the next king.”

The puppet of a warrior dressed in fur walked into the scene. The children cheered. The puppet-warrior sat down.

“But not everyone wants Urias to become king, you know,” the puppeteer continued. “The evil Madarapast, a giant serpent of the forest, slides out of from the trees…to eat our hero! This serpent is the last of Urias’ enemies that he has to defeat.”

A puppet of a green and yellow snake slid out from the edge of the scene, eliciting screams and shouts of warnings from the children.

“You cannot leave this forest, Madarapast tells him. You have walked into my den. You came here as a hero of Arkromenyon, but you leave here as food for my belly!”

The snake rose over the hero and exposed its fangs.

“Evil serpent, it was you who killed my father. Today I will have my vengeance!”

The hero revealed a sword in his hand, holding it up for all to see. The children cheered. The snake attacked but the hero rolled backwards out of the way. The snake attacked again, but this time the hero rolled forward and stood behind the snake.

“Where did you go? Show yourself!”

The children laughed as the snake looked up, down, sideways, and toward the audience. It looked everywhere except behind him where the hero was bouncing in anticipation with his sword. Some of the children shouted for the hero to attack the snake.

“I am here, you foul creature. Turn around and face your doom.”

The snake turned around and had a look of surprise. It coiled itself high above the hero for the most powerful attack as possible. It lunged down but the hero rolled away again and the snake’s head crashed to the floor. The hero jumped across the air, brandishing his sword in hand, and lopped off the snake’s head. The head split clean from its body, with dark red blood squirting from the open wound. The children screamed with joy.

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“And so our hero defeats the evil Madarapast and avenges his father. And on that day he had defeated all his enemies. Urias then became Uryon, the Thirteenth Sunset King for all Arkromenyons.”

The audience, children and grown folk, applauded as the puppeteer bowed.

“Is that real blood?” one of the children asked.

“Good question,” the puppeteer said. “I don’t know. Let me check.”

He reached into the puppet stage and dipped his finger into the small pool of blood that had squirted from the snake puppet. He lifted his red fingertip to show the audience, like how the hero had shown off his sword. Then the puppeteer stuck his finger in his mouth.

“Oh yuck!” the puppeteer cried. “It’s real serpent blood!”

The children screamed and wailed from disbelief and disgust while the grown men and women laughed. Everyone applauded again while the puppeteer took another bow.

The puppeteer closed the box and carried it away while the children clamored for more. A juggler in a shiny yellow suit and a white cap stepped onto the platform and began juggling five apples. The children began applauding. In mid-juggle, the juggler took a bite of one of the apples and kept juggling. When he reached the same apple he took another bite and kept the routine until the one apple was finished. He continued juggling with the four whole apples and the one core while the children chanted. As he juggled he tossed each of the apples to Hirodias and his company and caught the core in his own mouth with his arms outstretched and bowed. The audience stood and applauded the juggler. The puppeter then returned to the stage and patted the juggler on the back, then thanked everyone for attending.

The children rose from the ground and began to leave. Some were reenacting some of the scenes between Urias and the serpent, while others were juggling rocks.

Hirodias approached the puppeteer and the juggler. “My thanks, I was hungry,” he said, holding up the apple.

"That was an interesting trick," the puppeteer said. "I've never seen Jester do that."

"Jester," Hirodias repeated.

"That's right," the juggler said. "Though it’s not a new trick for me, I've been doing it for years."

"Tell me how you came by that name."

"What, Jester? That's what they call me," the juggler said. "Since I came here, I've juggled and performed tricks. Didn't take long to earn the nickname. You’re a big fellow. I haven't seen you here before."

"We're passing through," Andreus said. "Heading west, to the Sea of Ruin, with whomever wishes to join us."

"West!" the puppeteer exclaimed. "Not sure why you would want to do that; everyone's leaving the west to come here! Have you talked with Hefaistas? She may help you, you know."

"She's providing a caravan," Symian added.

"Good, good!" the puppeteer said. "Sounds like everything is working out for you. I'll take my leave, good luck to you. And by the way, if you were wondering…it was boiled beet juice.” The puppeteer held up his finger before placing his box on a wheelbarrow and shuffled away. Jester stayed behind.

“How long have you performed with this puppeteer?” Andreus asked.

“Not long. I’ve only arrived about a couple months ago. He’s always been here, performing here once a week.”

“The people listened to everything the puppeteer said,” Hirodias said.

"Do you know how Urias defeated the serpent?" Jester asked Hirodias. "According to legend, Urias was leading his people through the forest while the serpent hid in the trees. Urias stopped to eat, and that was when Madarapast struck. He aimed to sink his poisonous fangs into Urias' neck, but Urias took the fruit he had in his hand and crammed it into Madarapast's mouth. The serpent's fangs were buried into the fruit and he couldn't bite Urias. That was when Urias removed his head."

"I've heard this story," Symian said. "That fruit was an apple."

Jester nodded. "In truth Madarapast was actually a priest that had an army, and Urias led a campaign to defeat him. The apple represented knowledge that Urias had that he used against the priest, which led to his downfall. The stories we tell all have some basis in truth, but how it becomes a legend is through those who tell it. Caution not the story but beware the intentions of the storyteller, my friends." Jester bowed and left.

"That juggler knows our history well. He's neither Arkromenyon nor Yghr," Palimedis said.

“And he’s not Aredunian either,” Andreus added.

“There are many kingdoms across the land between the Sunrise and Sunset Seas,” Hirodias said. “An eye must be kept on that one.”

“The puppeteer is Yghr though, through and through,” Palimedis spat. “Behind that mustache and face paint I can smell the Smote on him."

“Two eyes must be kept on that one,” Hirodias said. “Come. We will need to set up a camp for ourselves.”

They walked back down the hill toward the camps.

"What was the knowledge that Urias had that he used against the priest?" Symian asked.

“All the stories I have heard were told to me as a child, before I was captured into slavery,” Hirodias said. “All the truth behind the stories were lost in the sands of the Smote, or beaten out of us in the fighting pits. When we return home, we will find the truth to these stories and more. We will reclaim our past, I promise you.”