“Who moved my bread!” A well-dressed, robust girl, with brown double braided hair, and ruby red eyes, shouted at the servants.

“Some of my lunch was missing! My fancy breads and sweet apples! Who took it!”

“The food… was moved to Lady Arete’s room…” a servant answered in tremble.

“Arete who? How dare you take from the table of the Teleios?”

“I’m sorry, Lady Agave. It was… It was Lord Vitellus who ordered us to move some of your food to Lady Arete’s room. Lady Arete of Syracuse.”

The lady was stunned after hearing the servant’s answer. She stormed out of her room in anger.

Arete’s mother, Jocasta of Thebes, was the only true grandchild of Vitellus by blood. After she was murdered, Vitellus failed to overcome his sadness. As a means to gain resilience, he adopted hundreds of children and infants to his household. Agave was one of them.

She had been loved and pampered by Vitellus throughout her life for being his most familial adopted granddaughter. She would make jokes, play the pandura and sang for him to make him laugh.

She was granted the Teleios title, the most respected lady among all. But the return of Arete challenged her position. As Vitellus might favor Arete over her. After all, Arete was the only legitimate grand daughter of Vitellus.

Perhaps, it was not about the threat to her status at all. Perhaps, it was purely about the food they moved.

A servant handed a piece of tunic, a loaf of bread and an apple to Matea.

“The kitchen is preparing a fat calf for Lady Arete’s dinner. Report yourself to the head chef after you get yourself ready.” He instructed.

“Hey, are you crazy? those are from the table of the Teleios!” another servant tried to stop him from handing over the food.

“No, those are rejected.” He let the other man took a sniff on the bread loaf. He immediately covered his nose with his hands.

“Ew! Those are…”

“Yeah, so don’t waste it! It’s going to be good for her!”

Matea received the items from him. The strong smell from that loaf of bread was something familiar to her. And she sensed no ill intentions from these two large rounded men.

“The nearest river is just outside of the east gate. Remember to come back on time.” The two men left.

Taking a bite of the apple, there was nothing in her mind. She would eat when she felt hungry, sleep when tired, kept her own hygiene and did whatever chores when ordered. Aimlessness, a mechanical state of mind, where living was like a waterwheel, running with the flow and filling the aqueduct.

Everything in Thebes was better compared to Syracuse. The city-state flourished with their silk trade. Despite the thriving economy, the Theban prioritised happiness in their way of life, avoided conflict with nearby city-states and their defense was fully dependent on Rome and Syracuse. Therefore, they did not train any foot soldiers. There was a problem though, drunkenness.

“Hey, foreigner! Wanna join us! The drinks are free! Ha ha!”

She walked past a group of drunken men, ignoring them. She knew the taste of wine. The tannins were bitter, the acid tasted sour. Those were the commoners' wine. Maybe she never tried those nicely fermented ones made with fine grapes. Those were normally reserved only for the nobles. She preferred the sweetness of the apple though. And the savoury of that loaf of smelly bread. It was the scent of garlic.

Perhaps the servant who baked the loaf had accidentally dropped cloves of it into the dough. A pleasant mistake that made the bread extremely tasty but pungent. Such food must not be on the table of the Teleios, it was forbidden. The gods and goddesses despised the scent, the noblemen avoided it. But it had medicinal effects and gave energy when consumed. Thus, it was considered a food for the working class.

“You! That’s the apple from my table and my lunch bread!” Agave shouted at Matea. Pointing fingers at her, she recognised her not just from the food on her hands. Also from her Syracusean linothorax.

Matea broke the bread and ate a piece of it. It was neither a mistake, nor an accident. The bread was well made, with the golden yellow of saffron coloured the fluffy core. This lady, the Teleios of Thebes, ordered a garlic bread for herself. Despite of all the discrimination on the bulb.

She then broke the bread in half and attempted to return half of it to the lady. Agave took a deep breath and a big gulp. She knew that they were in the public, outside, on the road full of pedestrians. It was her secret! She must not let the Thebans know she ordered garlic bread for herself! The actual reason of why she got furious when her food was moved out of her knowledge!

“Where… Where’s your madam? Where’s Arete of Syracuse?” She tried to shift the focus.

“No! Don’t…” The other servants shouted.

“Library.” They were about to stop Matea, but she replied.

Arete opened and gathered the scrolls in the room on a table. With a serious expression, she noticed that those scrolls were letters exchanged between Amiran, Apollodorus, Vitellus and Seneca. There was research on the Eugenes. They wrote about the practice, the Republic written by Plato, and their notes and discussion about it.

Categories of humans according to quality:

(Excluding mentally ill mad man)

Iron Soul - The majority commoner

Silver Soul - The guardians

Golden Soul - The philosophers

Eugenes - The best among the golden souls

Teleios - The perfect soul

Demigod

God

“Plato knew that the Golden Souls could still produce children with Iron Souls. The idea of increasing chances of getting the best Eugene is to massively eliminate the weak and populate the strong. Claudius is able to produce an Eugene, which is Nero. Their next goal is to produce a human as close as possible… to the DIVINE!? The Teleios!”

“Therefore, they have to kill all infants who are born weak…?”

Arete clenched her fist and bit her lip. Emotions flooded her mind.

“So… It seems like my father was trying to prevent Nero from capturing the Teleios by sending his trained warriors to Rome. Their strategy is to change the system within the system. But Seneca reported that he had lost Nero’s favor. And the Three Elders had overtaken his position. They introduced the idea of getting close to divinity through breeding with the Teleios.”

“They found the Teleios of Eretria, blessed by the Goddess Aphrodite. With supernatural ability and could possibly be… immortal?! Is that even possible?”

“Why did my father never tell me about all these?”

A letter exchange between Vittelus and Amiran.

“You’re a freeman, Amiran. You have the right to choose your own destiny. Choose to follow Thebes. Adopt the way of the Epicureans and enjoy the rest of your life. Whatever Claudius planned to do, it is none of your business. Your own happiness is the priority of your life!”

“How can I be at peace? When they call me a golden soul today, what if my child was born as an iron soul? Claudius will surely seek to destroy me when it happens! How can I be happy, knowing that the majority of Syracusean will forever be enslaved and the Romans will achieve divinity merely by birth? I agree that happiness is the priority of our lives! But happiness does not exist without virtue.”

“To make a decision… What kind of happiness should I choose?”

To be continued…