“Pryne, are you the Teleios of Eretria?”

Pryne took a deep breath and replied: “You’ve found what you’ve been looking for."

“I have to make sure Caesar Nero is unable to find you! You have to stay away from Eretria.” Arete said.

“I know, that’s why I was in Kataratos.” Pryne answered in exaggeration. Although she was not wearing her full covering veil, her tone was still as expressive as usual.

“Then why have you guided us to Eretria? You’re supposed to leave this place as far as possible!” said Arete.

“Yeah, Why didn’t ya tell us about who ya really are? Did ya know how hard it is to make up stories?” Agave added.

“Arete of Syracuse, I want you to meet with someone here in Eretria.” Pryne deepened her tone. Staring straight at Arete, she then turned towards a giant statue. The statue was not in her image, but it was a carving of a muscular male body.

A large golden ivory chryselephantine statue, a material used only for the highest olympus gods and goddesses. Arete only saw twice in her entire life, the statue of Athena at Athens, and the Zeus in Olympia. Only the rich and powerful city was able to afford the materials. Such large statue was rare, almost an insult to other important deities of Mount Olympus. Its existence was either to show off the wealth of Eretria, or an attempt to start a religious revolution. It was a statue of Heracle, the legendary demigod.

"This is… ridiculous!" Arete unable to hold her disbelief.

"This, is not even the real Heracle." Said Pryne.

"We never heard of his real name, but he is a human indeed. With flesh and bones just like you and me. Not a real demigod, nor a descendant of any gods. That's why it is hidden inside the temple of Aphrodite." She added.

Heracle was muscular, handsome and strong. With his charm, he won by popular votes for several years in Eretria's elections. The Eretrians simply believed that he was the demigod who completed the twelve labours.

People had been gathered at the grand temple hall since a night before the campaign, patiently waiting for their favourite hero.

Adorn with the golden skin and luscious lion’s mane, the stunning hunk arrived with a beautiful ivory white horse. Awestruck by Heracle’s arrival, the ladies started to lose their minds, screaming, crying and chasing towards his side, while the temple guards held barricades to block their way. The women behaved like they were possessed, pulling their hair and calling Heracle’s name. Some fainted in spasm due to shortness of breath. They hop and leap into the air, and they wail like banshees released from hell screaming themselves into hysteria. Some guards fell down in seizure, suffered from their bleeding eardrum.

“Oh… my… Dionysus! They are crazier than Thebans on maenads mode!” Agave was surprised.

“What happened?! Are they mad?” Arete was dumbfounded to witness how the people of Eretria responded towards the man. They saw the whole scene from the third ordine of the temple floor.

“No, those are normal people. They neither drunk nor possessed. They were simply fanatic about Heracle.” answered Pryne.

The temple guards threw the silver drachmas to the crowd. They cheered and collected the silvers with their tunics, praising Heracle, they kneel and worshiped him.

“I believe this Heracle can be the epitome of a populares.” said Arete.

“True, but haven’t you thought about why Kataratos existed?” asked Pryne.

“They were expelled without trial. Not on any crime or wrongdoing. Not just being unattractive, or sick.”

“Drought landed the city, years without harvest. Yet Heracle tells stories about digging a trench to flourish the land. A trench never existed for years. Procuring on the temple hetairas, there’s no other trades to secure the city income. Food shortage, strange disease, dwindling economy. All he does is continue to spread his charm and keep his lies alive. I believe Eretria can be a better place without him!” said Pryne with a pressing tone. Her argument sounded persuasive to Arete.

“Oh, that’s easy! Give me a bow and some arrows! Hehe.” Agave intruded their conversation.

“The problem isn’t Heracle.” Arete replied.

“Even if he’s dead, people remain the same. Fanaticism had been long ingrained in their minds. Like how they served you simply because you’re the most beautiful hetaira of the temple.” Her words shattered the fragile hope in Pryne who thought the problem can be easily solved by simply eliminating the man.

“I… I don’t care, the end will justify the means!” Pryne replied with the determination in her eyes.

“There is no greater stupidity one can suffer than to deny a reasonable alternative!” Arete argued.

“Then what alternatives do you have in mind? Athena!”

“Alright! You follow my lead, we will have a plan to bring Heracle down from his position and make the people realize his atrocity. Once we’re done, you’ll have to leave Eretria with me, Aphrodite!” said Arete.

“Stop that! I have a name and it's not Aphrodite!”

“And I’m not Athena!”

“When I was just 7 years old, I could strangle a poisonous snake to death single-handedly!” Heracle then grabbed a snake and crushed it with his hand. The crowd awed and clapped. The women all scream in hysterical manner.

“Look at this beautiful lion skin on me, it was the Nemean lion! I killed it and skinned it with a single blow!” He then pushed away his cape made of lion’s skin and mane, showing his ripped bronze abs. The crowds are screaming louder and louder.

“I used my bare hand to tear apart the head of the horrifying barbarian terrorist Barabbas of Argos!” Again, the people cheered loudly. Some of them tried to climb up to reach Hearacle, but the others were pulling those people back to the ground. The whole scene was dramatic while Heracle was standing with his most admirable pose.

“That’s a total phony…No wonder Harald wanted to meet him. He probably wanted to challenge whoever took down Barabbas.” Arete recalled the Frieshians.

“Heracle simply lied to make himself appear to be a demigod. We need a plan to expose him in public. Let the citizen know he is lying.”

“Well, I’m not sure this will work. He can lie and still be loved by people.” Pryne doubted her idea.

“Well, if you want to start a fire, you need to have a spark. You need a sliding chunk of ice to start an avalanche.” Arete replied with a smirk.

To be continued…