Episode 6 (484 B.C.):

As if an omniscient narrator were tampering with the perception of his audience and his protagonist, Zenodulos' consciousness returned to Zenodulos' memories. From the last moment he had witnessed, which was when he sent Kharma with letters to his friends.

The slave, with feline agility, had sent the three letters in less than two hours, as she reported to him when she returned. The young slave then understood why Agatha always sent her as a messenger: she had a natural talent for going unnoticed through the streets, even in the sunlight.

As Acacius' journey had extended for several days, Kharma had the opportunity to visit the prisoner on several occasions, also taking advantage of the opportunity to take him better food.

The responses from Auxentius, Cleon, and Callisto, Kharma did not delay in arriving, all supporting the plan and with some messages of encouragement. Some of their words were:

"That wretch is going to get what he deserves, you can be sure of that," Auxentius wrote.

"I've seen horrible and disgusting people, but that master of yours is worse than any I've ever met. May retribution torment him for eternity. And in the meantime, we'll take care of that guy in this world," Callisto wrote.

"Remember, Zenodulos. Even if you think fate is not in your favor, within you lies a spirit like Odysseus, fighting against all adversity. You have my unconditional support," Master Cleon composed eloquently.

Even Agatha wrote him a letter. Her beautiful handwriting was trembling, possibly from her shaken hand. She wrote that she couldn't believe her father was such a disgusting person and asked Zenodulos and Kharma for forgiveness, while promising to help them. Attached to her letter were other documents they needed for their plan.

Thus, with their renewed hope, those two children waited while things took their course amidst bureaucracy and procedures.

In those days, the two slaves talked about many things:

* How it had already been almost a year since the wedding, to Zenodulos' surprise.

* About Auxentius' travels to the lands of the Persian king.

* About the words of Pythagoras and many other scholars.

* Of myths and legends, of heroes and monsters.

Each time, Kharma opened up more and told him about her life. Once she narrated, in more detail than the last time, how she had ended up there.

—I am a slave since birth. According to Acacius, my parents were so poor and greedy that they sold me to him when I was five years old. —She recounted with bitterness— And it seemed I wasn't worth much, as he only bought me for two reasons: my low price and my being a child.

That's why the short slave knew almost nothing about the outside world. She barely knew some basic things and a few fragments and anecdotes from the plays that Agatha would tell her, and even asked her to sneak into the theater from time to time to tell her about the latest performances.

But it wasn't time for bad moments. The two had become inseparable, condemned to live an even more miserable existence than the other slaves. However, when they talked, they forgot about everything, their ruthless master and that cell that looked like a home.

It almost seemed that the gods had finally ceased their wrath towards them. But Acacius returned one day, very agitated, bursting into his slave’s room.

—Do you bring news about your journey? —Zenodulos asked with sarcasm.

—You seem to have forgotten fear in my absence —he mocked his master— But we don't have time for this; I don't know why, but I feel like I am being spied on since I came back.

—Should that matter to me?

Perhaps his plan was giving results, he thought.

—Oh, believe me. It matter —The tone of Acacius was fearful, and he looked around nervously— Now, be quiet and follow me.

—I cannot, thanks to your treatment, my legs are very weak to walk.

—Damn it, let me call a slave.

Then Acacius ran out, shouting throughout his house that he needed immediate help. A few minutes later, he returned with that man, the one around twenty years old. Young and strong, he was perfect for the task of carrying Zenodulos.

As the injured slave was carried through the corridors to Acacius' room, a terrible thought crossed his mind: perhaps it was the hour of sacrifice…

Inevitably, they arrived at the master's room, which was now more disordered than usual, as it had been almost a month since it was cleaned. Acacius did not allow any of his servants to enter, not even to clean.

—Put him in the chair —he indicated, pointing to the same wooden chair where he had sat him down the last time.

—Yes, sir —responded the servant, with a weakened Zenodulos on his back.

Following his master's orders, the man carefully placed the boy in the chair.

—Leave now— he commanded harshly— And close the door behind you.

The servant bowed and left without another word.

Zenodulos felt the chill of the chair on his skin, and fear in his heart. He didn't want to be a victim of this man, he had already grown unaccustomed to such treatment.

Acacius then watched him from across the room, right next to the table where the mysterious stone rested.

—Do you remember the last time I brought you here? —He asked.

His servant nodded in terror. A shiver ran down the slave's spine.

—There's something I didn't tell you —His master said — This stone, I offered its owner large sums of money, silver, and treasures. But he refused to sell it to me.

Agatha's father approached the stone and held it with great delicacy.

—So, in an effort to see Angra Mainyu again, I killed him —Revealed the deranged man— However, he did not appear before me. That's why it seemed like a waste to kill you that day. I still had many questions.

Acacius' gaze was fixed on the stone, and Zenodulos was prepared for the worst. He put a great deal of effort into his battered legs to try to run at all costs.

—Well, after that, I went back to Ionia to investigate more about that man, anything that could give me an answer— The scholar continued— But I found nothing relevant. Apparently, this guy found the stone behind his house, and according to the few who knew him, he was leaving his house less and less. I'm surprised no one investigated that place, perhaps the Persians had more pressing matters with the aftermath of the rebellion.

—And what does that have to do with me? —Zenodulos asked with a trembling voice.

—Everything, my dear eromenos. Everything — Acacius replied, still looking at the stone intently— If someone is chasing me, it's because they know I have the object that can bring into the world the being of lies and humanity’s most primal desires

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Acacius looked up and stared at his servant with wide open eyes. Desperation covered all his features.

—I must kill you here and now, it's my last chance to see him — He said in a hoarse voice.

Zenodulos realized it was futile to wait any longer for the sacrifice to be postponed. The slave tried to stand up and run, but due to the weakness of his limbs, he could only manage to get up for a few seconds before falling to the ground with the chair, just like last time.

Then, as he tried to crawl towards the exit with all his might, he felt a sharp pain in his leg and instinctively rolled over. A knife was stuck in his leg, the same one that Acacius had the other day.

With a swift motion, Acacius pulled the weapon out of Zenodulos's skin, and the pain became unbearable.

After his slave let out a scream, Acacius aimed his dagger at the defenseless young man.

—And now… —he whispered.

But before he could finish the sentence, a powerful shout echoed from outside the house.

—Acacius, son of Menedemos!

Acacius startled and turned towards the window.

—What!? —he asked, confused.

—We are the Scythian archers —The soldier announced. —We order you to surrender immediately!

Acacius cursed under his breath.

—Why do they have to bother me right now? —He looked at Zenodulos, the young slave lying next to him. —You'd better not try to escape, or I'll rape you before killing you.

he slave breathed heavily, wondering how he would escape this monster.

Meanwhile, his master walked quickly and unintentionally kicked the table where the rock with the drawing of the Persian beast was, knocking it to the ground. But he didn't seem to care, as he ignored it and looked out the window.

Below, he saw several soldiers with rudimentary armor, similar to what the humblest used in war. Simple helmets protected their heads and simple breastplates protected their chests. These were the Scythian archers, who, despite their title, carried swords and daggers; ready to storm his house. Such guards were surrounded by an angry mob, several with rudimentary weapons such as scythes or wooden sticks.

Obviously Zenodulos couldn't see any of that, although he could hear a large crowd in the street, but I'm describing it to you so that it's easier for you to imagine the gravity of the matter, my dear reader.

— Foolish barbarians! —he snapped at them—. What do you think you're doing barging into my house like this? Do you want me to have you executed?

— We apologize, Mister Acacius, — said one of them with a trembling voice— but we cannot withdraw until we've inspected your house. Archon's orders.

— Nonsense, — Acacius replied scornfully— I am an exemplary citizen and a descendant of the great Nestor. What kind of crimes could someone like me commit?

— You are accused of being a spy for the Persian king, — One of the self-proclaimed archers replied firmly.

— Death to the spy! Death to the barbarian worshippers! — The crowd shouted in unison.

— Am I being accused by some damn barbarians of collaborating with foreigners? — Acacius scoffed. — What evidence do you have for such a grave accusation?

— We're sorry, Lord Acacius, but we've received various pieces of evidence that warrant investigation— the soldier insisted. — If you are innocent, then you won't be hiding anything in your house and we can inspect it without a problem.

— Forget it! My lands are my property, and no one can enter without my permission — Acacius shouted, agitated — I want to know more about these so-called pieces of evidence.

— You have made an alarming number of trips to Ionia, and there are also consistent reports of your connection to the Persian king's court, apart from the fact that...

— Enough, the negotiations are over— Another Scythian snapped impatiently. — We will enter by force.

Suddenly, the guards and the neighbors burst into the house, forcing open the door. Acacius's slaves, armed only with sticks, were quickly subdued by the armed soldiers. Some were even killed. The Eastern slaves knew that servants like them were easily replaceable.

Acacius cursed again.

— Damned government dogs— He muttered. Then turned and saw Zenodulos trying to flee.

— It seems I have no choice but to ask Angra Mainyu to help me escape— he added. — And if that doesn't work, I'll have to take advantage of the confusion my valuable slaves have created to escape.

Then he raised his dagger to the slave again.

— Hold it right there!— A voice was heard from the doorway of the room.

Acacius and Zenodulos turned towards the source of the voice and saw a merchant from the agora with a spear in his hands. The servant smiled when he recognized his friend.

— Auxentius! — He exclaimed, relieved.

The merchant smiled back.

— Forgive me for being late, Zenodulos — he said — But I've come to save you from this depraved man.

— What's wrong with what I did? — Acacius asked cynically. Many people seek out young boys for…

— What part of this is normal? — The merchant reproached him— Just look at his wounds and the thinness of his limbs. You are a monster, worse than any I have ever heard of.

— Your words hurt me — he said sarcastically. — But I don't have to try to convince someone who is obviously a pauper. If you want to fight, do so. But first…

Acacius tried to grab Zenodulos, but an arrow grazed his arm and made him drop the knife.

— I wouldn't do that if I were you — warned a feminine voice.

And behind Auxentius appeared Callisto, with a bow and arrow pointed at Acacius.

— My father was good at teaching me to hunt wild animals — She said proudly. — Though you are worse than an animal. So, if you get even one dactyl closer to him, you'll have an arrow in your arm.

— A woman archer... almost as if I'm seeing one of those unpleasant Amazons, — The master of the house retorted — But you don't fool me, with your makeup and jewels, I can tell you're just a common prostitute. And I saw the other man selling vases in the agora. What company this boy has, they are undoubtedly the friends a slave would have.

— I see you doubt my skills — Callisto challenged. — Very well, I'm used to being underestimated. Go ahead, put me to the test.

There was a moment of tension, and Acacius quickly ran towards the knife on the ground. Callisto shot an arrow, but it could only graze Acacius's arm. Undeterred, he used his other hand to grab Zenodulos by the collar of his tunic and dragged him towards him. The knife was aimed at the servant's neck and his master's other arm was holding him back so he couldn't escape.

Auxentius reacted quickly and aimed his weapon at his opponent.

— If you do anything to him, you'll see Charon today — The fat merchant threatened, with fury

— I don't fear a simple ferryman, not when I've known someone more powerful... — The master of the house responded with a malicious smile.

Suddenly, the door burst open and five "archers" entered the room. Their armor gleamed in the torchlight, and their weapons were aimed directly at the rebel.

The leader of the group, a tall and burly man, stepped forward.

— Acacius, son of Menedemos. We will take you to jail immediately, then you have the right to defend yourself in court.

—I already know how the preparations work — He said with resignation.

— Then come with us.

Acacius nodded.

—I suppose I have no choice…

And when everyone relaxed, Acacius acted. His knife plunged softly into Zenodulos' chest, as if he were an animal sacrificed to the gods.

Losing his temper, Auxentius lunged at the assassin, and with the same ease that the knife pierced Zenodulos' flesh, the spear passed from one side to the other of Acacius' chest, pinning him to the wall and unleashing a torrent of blood that filled a large part of the floor.

When the blood of both victims met and touched the stone, thrown a moment ago by Acacius' carelessness, a blood-red smoke emerged from both bodies and flooded the room. In the middle of the place appeared a thin and tall figure, a mask seemed to hide his face, from which only two reddish circles could be observed, shining like two bloody moons.

On the other side of Athens, a young married couple had the same vision in their minds, as did one of their slaves. And in Acacius' own house, a little girl kneeling under a table also saw something strange in her eye. The vision of all of them seemed to transport themselves to the same place where a dying Zenodulos and a supernatural figure stood near him.

With an otherworldly voice as deep as Tartarus, the spirit spoke.

The blood offering has been accepted.

Therefore, I grant you, to the seven of you, my distinguished actors. The desire that every mortal has longed for at least once in their fleeting existence: immortality.

However, it is still too early for some of you.

So I grant you a period of four years for reflection.

After the time has passed, you must meet before the statue of the tyrannicides of the agora.

There... I will grant you your wish.

—Angra Mainyu...— Acacius whispered with his last breath. He couldn't hear him, but he could see the same figure from that fateful day, and without realizing that he was not one of his chosen ones, he died. His whole body gave way to the spear that held him to the wall.

Without even turning to look at the man who had invoked him, the figure disappeared and the smoke gradually faded. Both the soldiers and those present were confused, although only some of those present had heard his voice.

But with no time to reflect, there was an urgent situation: Zenodulos was breathing shallowly as blood flowed from the wound in his chest.

—We must treat him now — The burly Scythian interrupted everyone's thoughts.— Go with one of us. We'll talk about bureaucracy later.

Nodding, Auxentius, Callisto, and a Scythian left the place with the wounded boy.

Behind them, the other "archers" carried away the lifeless body of Acacius between them. Blood stained the ground where they walked. Both his slaves and his neighbors booed him and threw stones at him. No one noticed the group escaping with the wounded boy.

After leaving the house, into the street, Zenodulos found it increasingly difficult to stay awake and his exhaustion took over. Entering a deep sleep, he had never slept so well in his life.