The Temple of Athena loomed before Lucian, its vast expanse stretching towards the heavens. Massive columns, intricately carved with scenes from her myths and legends, lined the perimeter. The walls, adorned with delicate frescoes depicting battles and divine interventions, shimmered under the soft glow of torches. Marble statues of Athena in various forms stood regally around the temple, each one capturing a different aspect of her divinity.

Inside, the scent of burning incense filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of fresh flowers laid at the goddess's feet. Gentle murmurs of prayer floated through the space as worshippers knelt on the cool stone floor, their eyes closed in reverence. The flickering flames from countless oil lamps danced across their faces, creating shadows that seemed to breathe life into the temple’s ancient tales.

Lucian approached the altar, a small bundle of figs and olives clutched in his hands. He knelt, placing the offering before him.

"Athena," he murmured, "goddess of wisdom and war, I seek your guidance." He paused, glancing around to ensure no one was listening. "I've learned truths about myself that I can scarcely believe. If I am indeed... what they say I am, then I need your strength now more than ever. Give me the wisdom to know how to use this... power I have. And the courage to face the dangers that come next."

His mind raced with thoughts of his mother and his sister.

"Please don’t forget about my family," he continued. "Please let them be ok. They are all I have left."

He cast a final glance at Athena's face before turning to leave the temple.

The morning sun warmed his face as he made his way towards the agora, when suddenly, a commotion erupted from a nearby street.

"You lecherous dog!" a man's voice bellowed. "I'll gut you where you stand!"

His eyes widened as he saw Drakon, completely naked, sprinting out of the alley. Close behind him was a burly man wielding a short sword.

"Wait! It's not what you think!" The old man shouted over his shoulder. "Your wife... she told me you were dead!"

"Dead?!" the man roared. "I'll show you dead, you geriatric filth! Come back here!"

Despite his age and lack of clothing, Drakon managed to outpace his pursuer. The exiled warrior's scarred body was filled with sweat as he darted between shocked onlookers, flipping boxes and items at his wake.

"She said... she said you'd been killed in Thebes!" Drakon yelled, leaping over children playing. "How was I to know?"

"By keeping your wrinkly cock in your tunic, you drunken old fool!"

Lucian couldn't help but roll his eyes at the spectacle. Part of him wanted to intervene, but he knew better than to get involved in such a mess. Besides, Drakon had probably earned whatever was coming to him.

Shaking his head, he continued on his way to the agora, leaving the sounds of the chase behind him.

The marketplace was full of activity as Lucian weaved through the crowd. Merchants shouted their wares, voices rising above the clatter of coins and the hum of haggling buyers. Women in flowing chitons examined bolts of richly dyed fabric, their fingers brushing against the smooth textures. Children darted between the crowds, their laughter mingling with the distant bleating of goats.

He approached a fruit stall, eyeing the colorful array of produce.

"How much for the figs?" Lucian asked the vendor, a wizened old woman with sun-weathered skin.

"Two drachma for a dozen."

He nodded, fishing the coins from his pouch. "I'll take a dozen, then."

The vendor wrapped the figs in a cloth and gave it to him.

"Anything else, young man?"

"Oh, yes. Some grapes and a few apples, please."

He paid for the additional items, placing them in his basket, then moved on to the vegetable stalls.

Lucian's eyes scanned around and saw deep green cucumbers, plump tomatoes still glistening with dew, and bundles of fragrant herbs. He reached for a cluster of eggplants and some cabbages. "How much for these?"

The vendor wiped her hands on her apron and said, "Two drachmas for a basket."

With a nod, he retrieved a small leather pouch from his pocket and counted out the contents into her open palm. In exchange, she handed him a large woven basket filled to the brim with fresh vegetables. The fragrant aroma of basil greeted him as he took it.

"Thank you very much."

"May Demeter bless your table," she replied with a smile.

"And you as well."

Lucian made his way back to their lodgings, his arms laden with the day's purchases. As he approached their room, a young woman passed by him, her cheeks flushed and a coy smile playing on her lips. Lucian's brow furrowed in suspicion, a feeling that was quickly confirmed as he turned the corner.

There, leaning against the doorframe with an air of smug satisfaction, stood Stephanos. The Spartan warrior was clad only in his trousers, his muscled torso bare and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. The self-satisfied grin on his face told Lucian all he needed to know about the young woman's hasty departure.

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Lucian couldn't help but roll his eyes as he approached. "Why is everyone here having sex with every woman in the city?" he muttered, as he pushed past his companion and into their shared quarters.

Setting the basket down on the table with perhaps more force than necessary, Lucian began unpacking their supplies. Behind him, Stephanos sauntered into the room, his grin widening.

"Not everyone, my friend," he drawled, stretching. "Just those of us blessed by Aphrodite." He plucked a grape from the basket and popped it into his mouth with relish. "Besides, what else is there to do while we wait for Drakon to return from his... escapades?"

Lucian shook his head, continuing to arrange the fruits and vegetables. "I don't know, maybe prepare for our mission? The one that could determine the fate of Greece?"

"Ah, there's enough time for that. A warrior must keep his spirits high before battle, you know," he helped himself to another grape. "Speaking of spirits, have you seen our esteemed mentor? Last I saw, he was heading towards a different district, muttering something about 'unfinished business.'"

"Oh, I've seen him alright. Running naked through the streets, pursued by an angry husband. It seems his 'unfinished business' involved someone else's wife."

Stephanos burst into laughter. "By the gods! That old wolf never learns, does he? I suppose we should be grateful he's providing such excellent cover for our true purpose here."

"If by 'cover' you mean 'drawing attention to us at every turn,' then yes, he's doing a marvelous job," Lucian replied, setting down the last of the groceries.

As if summoned by their conversation, a commotion erupted outside. Drakon's voice, slurred but unmistakable, could be heard arguing with someone. Stephanos moved to the window, peering out with undisguised amusement.

"Ah, speak of Hades and he shall appear," Stephanos quipped. "It seems our illustrious leader has returned... and he's brought company."

"Right," Lucian sighed. "I suppose we'd better go rescue him before he starts another war. After all, we're here to prevent one, not start it."

As they headed for the door, Stephanos clapped his shoulder. "That's the spirit! And who knows? Maybe saving Drakon from his own folly will be good practice for saving Greece."

"If that’s true, then I’ll be a master at saving Greece."

As the two stepped out into the street, they were greeted by a scene of utter chaos. Drakon, now clothed, was engaged in a heated argument with a group of local merchants. His wild gesticulations and slurred speech made it clear that he was still very much under the influence of wine.

"I tell you, it was a misunderstanding!" He bellowed, swaying slightly on his feet. "How was I to know the chicken was sacred to Asclepius?"

One of the merchants, a portly man with a face red from both sun and anger, jabbed a finger at the old man's chest. "You tried to eat it, you drunken fool! In the middle of the healing temple!"

Lucian pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "By the gods."

Stephanos, on the other hand, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. He leaned against a nearby pillar, arms crossed and a smile on his face. "Well, this should be interesting."

Sensing that things could quickly escalate from shouting to violence, Lucian decided to intervene. He stepped forward, placing himself between Drakon and the irate merchants.

"Gentlemen," he began, raising his hands. "I apologize for my friend's behavior. He's... not himself today." He shot a pointed glare at Drakon. "We'll pay for any damages and make an appropriate offering to Asclepius to atone for this... misunderstanding."

The merchants grumbled among themselves, but the promise of payment seemed to mollify them somewhat. The portly one spoke up again. "Fine. But keep this idiotic dog on a leash, or next time we won't be so forgiving."

As the crowd began to disperse, Lucian grabbed Drakon by the arm and began steering him back towards their lodgings. Stephanos fell into step beside them, still chuckling.

"A sacred chicken? Really?" Lucian hissed once they were out of earshot. "What in the gods name are you thinking?!"

Drakon shrugged. "It looked delicious. How was I supposed to know it was off-limits?"

"The guy just told you that chicken was in the temple. Didn’t that give you a clue?"

"No, not really. I was focused on the chicken."

"And how are you going to eat it? Raw?"

"That's what she said," Drakon nudged Stephanos with his elbow, grinning.

The Spartan clapped him on the back. "Well, old friend, I must say you have a talent for creating diversions. Perhaps next time, try something that doesn't involve desecrating a temple and sleeping with another man’s wife?"

"I’ll try, but no promises," he smiled.

As they reached the door to their quarters, Lucian paused, glaring at them with a stern look. "Both of you, inside. Now. We need to talk about this mission and how we're going to accomplish it without getting ourselves killed."

Drakon and Stephanos exchanged a glance, looking for all the world like chastised schoolboys. They filed into the room, with Lucian following close behind.

As he closed the door, he couldn't help but wonder how he had ended up being the responsible one in this trio. He was the youngest, after all, and supposedly the least experienced. Yet here he was, trying to keep two seasoned warriors focused on their task.

With a deep sigh, he turned to face his companions. "Alright. Let's get to work."

Just as Lucian was about to continue outlining their plan, a loud thud interrupted him. He turned to see Drakon sprawled across the bed, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy. The old warrior had succumbed to the effects of his drinking, passing out cold.

Stephanos moved to the bedside, shaking his shoulder. "Come on, old man. This isn't the time for a nap."

But his efforts were in vain; Drakon was out cold, dead to the world.

"Great, just great," Lucian muttered, throwing his hand in the air.

Stephanos turned back to him. "What now?"

Lucian took a deep breath, steadying himself. Despite this setback, they couldn't afford to lose focus. "We have to go on with the plan," he said. "With or without Drakon's input."

"Agreed. So, what's our next move?"

"You gave the key to the drop zone, correct?"

"Yes," Stephanos replied, leaning against the wall. "And it's been three days since I did that. Still no word from the hooded man."

"Are you sure? He hasn't made any attempt to contact us?"

He shook his head. "I'm sure. I even went back to the tavern and looked for him. Asked the bartender too. Nothing."

A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by Drakon's occasional snore. Lucian paced the small space, his mind working through the possibilities. The thought that the hooded man might have scammed them tickled at the edges of his consciousness, but he pushed it away. They couldn't afford to think that way, not when so much was at stake.

"Let's wait for him then," he said. "That's all we can do for now."

"That might be a good idea. These things take time, after all."

Lucian moved to the window, gazing out at the street. The irony wasn't lost on him – three of Sparta's finest warriors, reduced to playing a waiting game, but he felt a glimmer of hope. They would see this through, no matter what challenges lay ahead.