Intermission 2:

Zenodulos' memories were abruptly interrupted. Snapping back to the present, the bewildered man found himself in a mysterious era with an urgent situation unfolding before his eyes.

A mysterious room, luxuriously decorated with trophies, stretched out before him. Zenodulos, half-naked, stood in the center of the room. Facing him, an armed figure, his face concealed by an iron mesh, aimed a sword at the disoriented man.

At Zenodulos' feet, a pool of blood spread from the body of a fallen soldier. It was the one who had attempted to attack him, but now lay dead without the man being able to recall exactly how he had so easily dispatched him.

— Stop! Don't move! — shouted the armed figure, concealed by a thick hood.

— I won't harm you if you tell me where we are— Zenodulos said confidently. If he could take down that guard, he could handle this one.

— If you follow me, the emperor will answer all your questions.

— Who is this emperor you speak of? — The man knew he was referring to a ruler. But that term didn't exist in Zenodulos' time or place, nor did he understand how he knew the meaning of the word.

— Oh right, you've been asleep for quite some time — the soldier said thoughtfully — It's like our king, but superior.

— I know what it means — Zenodulos replied impatiently— What I want to know is who this emperor is. For all I know, this person could be my captor.

It could even be Acacius and his plan with Kharma didn't work, he thought.

— I... I'm not allowed to tell you anything — the nervous soldier said, his demeanor becoming less threatening.

— So you value your master more than your own life? — The man asked, picking up the bloodied axe from the ground and pointing it at his enemy.

The soldier grasped the gravity of their situation and sheathed his sword once more, raising his arms to show he was unarmed.

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— Wise choice, — Zenodulos said without lowering his axe.

— I prefer my head on my shoulders, thank you.

—Then, speak. Where are we? —Asked the impatient slave. If two men had reached the place, more would not be far behind.—. The last thing I remember is Acacius' house in Athens.

—Acacius? I don't know who this Acacius is, but we are not in Athens. We are in Thessaloniki, in the castle of Emperor Theodore Doukas

—Thessaloniki? I have never heard of that polis

How could a polis with such a strange name have an emperor with such wealth? And how much time had passed since he was at Acacius' house until now? Questions crowded Zenodulos' mind.

—You don't know Thessaloniki, and you don't know the emperor either—responded the soldier, exasperated—. This conversation is going to be endless, but…

Suddenly, the soldier fell silent and let out a muffled scream, as if he had choked. A small, sharp object protruded from his heart, splattering blood.

Lifeless, the guard fell to the ground.

The strange piece, the size of a knife but roughly forged with an uneven surface, had pierced his armor and silenced the guard.

Looking up, Zenodulos saw a small figure standing before the deceased. It was the first familiar face he had seen in the present. His surprise caused him to drop the heavy ax to the ground, making it vibrate.

—Kharma…—he murmured in surprise.

She was no longer a child, but an adult, although age had not done much for her stature. Zenodulos also noted her long, greasy hair, once reaching her waist, was now neatly trimmed at her shoulders. Her clothes were of better quality and consisted of a long white tunic and a reddish cape that covered her shoulders.

But the most surprising thing was that Kharma did not have the scar on her right eye, and where there had once been an empty socket was now a dark brown eye.

However, that had to be her, it was exactly the same oval face and the same expression of sadness.

—Is it really you? —Zenodulos asked.

Slowly, Kharma approached the man with no memories. There was something strange about her expression.

—Yes, it's me —she finally responded.

Zenodulos couldn't help but be surprised again. The slave who had endured such hard times with him at Acacius' house was there, standing before him. He was so grateful that she had grown into an elegant woman.

The man was so moved that he couldn't help but reach out to hug her.

A look of disgust appeared on Kharma's face, and as quickly as a few minutes ago Zenodulos had dealt with his armored enemy, that lady stabbed him in the chest.

"It's true, she killed that man..." he thought, as his legs gave way and he fell to the ground.

—You dare to wake up out of nowhere and kill one of our guards —Kharma said with disdain—. And you made me kill the other one too. The emperor will deal with you, you filthy animal.

Once again, Zenodulos' mind returned to darkness, and his memories activated. Perhaps this time he would have some answers, he longed for.