The morning light filtered softly through the olive branches as Elian and Selene returned to the heart of Athens.
The city was awakening again merchants setting up their stalls, philosophers gathering to begin their daily debates, and citizens moving purposefully toward their tasks.
Yet there was a calmness in the air, a quiet before the bustle, as if the city itself was holding its breath.
Their destination was the Agora, the marketplace and public square where the lifeblood of Athenian democracy pulsed.
Here, voices rose in spirited discussion, ideas were exchanged with vigor, and the citizens exercised their right to question and decide. It was a place where philosophy met politics, and where words could be as sharp and decisive as swords.
Elian's gaze swept over the crowd men in flowing himations, animated in their gestures, children weaving through the legs of elders, vendors calling out their wares. It was chaotic, yet purposeful. It was a world apart from his own.
Selene guided him toward a shaded corner where a small group was gathered. Among them stood Socrates, the man they had glimpsed the evening before, but now more fully revealed.
His eyes were intense, focused not on the crowd but on an individual in front of him.
"Elian," Selene said softly, "this is the moment to truly understand Socrates not just the man, but his method. He was known for his questioning, his relentless probing. Yet he rarely spoke at length.
His power was in silence, in listening, and in asking the right questions."
Elian watched closely as Socrates remained silent for a moment, his gaze steady and unwavering. The man before him spoke hurriedly, attempting to explain a concept, but Socrates interrupted gently.
"Wait," Socrates said calmly. "Let us examine what you mean by 'justice.' What is justice, truly? Is it merely obeying the laws? Or something deeper?"
The speaker hesitated, struggling to put the idea into words. Socrates did not answer for him. Instead, he repeated the question, inviting reflection rather than providing answers.
Elian felt a pang of recognition. This was not a lecture or a sermon, but a dialogue—l a shared search for understanding. It was a dance of words, where each step revealed something new, even if it was uncertainty.
As the discussion continued, Elian noticed how Socrates listened more than he spoke. His silence was not emptiness but a space for thought, a pause that challenged assumptions and encouraged deeper insight.
Selene's voice broke his reverie. "Socrates believed that true wisdom came from recognizing one's ignorance. That the path to knowledge began with humility."
Elian nodded slowly. "It's strange, isn't it? To find power in silence."
"Yes," Selene replied. "In a world filled with noise and certainty, Socratic silence was revolutionary. It unsettled those who clung to dogma and pride. But it also opened a door a way to question everything without fear."
Elian found himself wondering how such an approach would fit in his own life. How often had he accepted facts without questioning? How often had he been afraid to admit what he didn't know?
The crowd around them shifted, the discussion moving on to other topics, other voices. But the memory of Socrates silence lingered.
They walked away from the Agora, the city's pulse returning to its usual rhythm. Yet something inside Elian had changed. He understood now that history was not just a record of events but a conversation across time a conversation that demanded listening as much as speaking.
"Why do you think you brought me here?: Elian asked Selene quietly.
"Because this moment," she said, "is about more than history. It's about learning how to think, how to question, and how to face uncertainty. You will need that on this journey."
Elian looked out over Athens, the city alive with voices and ideas, and felt the weight of the past pressing into the present.
In the silence between words, he heard the call of something greater a challenge to seek truth, not answers.
And in that moment, Elian realized that the journey through time was not just about seeing what was, but understanding why.