The next day, Arcadia was alive with activity, buzzing with the same rumors whispered everywhere: the black-robed women had foretold the city's ruin, inevitable and absolute. Most dismissed it as a joke, some kind of performance arranged by the mayor to spice up daily life, or perhaps a cult dabbling in black magic. Fear was absent.
Arcadia had always been adored by the gods of Eden—the gods of wealth, peace, war, and bounty. The city was pure, flawless in appearance and character, a literal heaven on earth. Its residents were virtuous, honorable, and kind. The idea that such a city could be destroyed, even by divine forces, seemed preposterous.
The Agora, Arcadia's town hall, lay at the heart of the marketplace. Surrounded by bustling vendors, it was alive every season. People wandered through the stalls even without intention to buy.
It was early morning, and the Agora was brimming with energy. Families shopped for breakfast. Some sat at the food stalls, chewing roasted lamb, while vendors called out to passing crowds, spraying water over the fruit to make it glisten in the morning sun. A child tugged at his mother's hand, pointing at the apples, and the father lifted him to get a better look.
Other stalls offered eggs, goat milk, and jewelry. Soldiers in light armor strolled casually, chatting and laughing, while students paused to glance at the vendor's wares. The air was vibrant, alive, orderly.
At the center, the marble staircase of the town hall gleamed in the sunlight. Six intricately carved pillars supported its roof, while the golden entrance door, engraved with ancient script, stood majestic. Guards lingered at attention, some chatting idly, others stationed by the pillars, all armed yet relaxed. One muscular soldier scanned the crowd carefully, then raised his horn and blew a long, deliberate note.
The crowd froze, searching for the source. Soon, a squad of five mounted soldiers approached. Four rode side by side; one led the formation, adorned in heavy armor with light gold jewelry. The citizens instinctively stepped aside. Guards at the entrance rushed to proper positions. The soldier with the horn lowered it, watching the formation halt at the base of the staircase.
"Good morning," the lead soldier said, his voice calm and commanding.
"General Admetus, good morning, sire. The mayor has been expecting you," replied the guard, bowing deeply.
Admetus sighed. "I was a bit tired, so I'm late. But who calls for a meeting at dawn? Ridiculous."
The guard simply lowered his gaze.
Admetus dismounted carefully, armor clinking lightly with each step. The sun reflected off his bright red chestplate, making it shine like a jewel. His helmet rested under his arm, the finely woven chiton beneath signaling wealth and status. The other soldiers dismounted respectfully.
His stomach growled audibly.
"Sigh… didn't even get time to eat." His eyes caught a fruit vendor's stall beside the staircase. He moved through the crowd, unnoticed yet imposing. The vendor, preoccupied with packing orders, barely noticed him.
"Excuse me!" Admetus called, voice deep and resonant. The vendor glanced up. "Yes! Anything I can get for you?"
Admetus frowned at the small crowd lingering around the fruit. He spotted a less crowded meat stall nearby. "Excuse me, I need to get through." People parted respectfully, and he hurried to the stall.
A young woman was the only customer. The sweet scent of her hair reached him, almost intoxicating, but hunger snapped him back to focus.
*Hurry up! I'm starving!* he thought.
The woman completed her purchase, turning toward him. Their eyes met. She blushed instantly, unable to maintain his piercing gaze.
Admetus, unaware of the effect he had, leaned closer, straining to hear her muffled words.
"Sorry, what was that again?"
The combination of his towering frame, perfect posture, and natural, manly scent overwhelmed her. She slowly stepped back, then walked away, leaving Admetus scratching his head.
"What was that about? Sigh… anyway, brother, a bowl of lamb, please." He waved to the vendor, who smiled gently and began roasting a fresh piece. The smell made Admetus' mouth water as his hunger finally took precedence over curiosity.