“What do you think Theoi is?” Asked Petosiris.

“A powerful being that able to exhibit control over anything, certain things or everything? A creator who deliver a new breath through creation, through rebirth, or resurrection? A promise giver who guarantees a salvation, a wish granter who hears the prayers, mind changer who opens a new path? They are the Theoi, the good, the evil and the in between.” He continued.

“Gods, you say? What kind of gods did such horrendous things towards human?” Arete replied.

“Aren’t Athena turned her loyal priestess into a Gorgon simply because her maidenhood was unwillingly taken by Poseidon?” Petosiris argued.

Arete was stunned, she should have knew it. With all the legends she had learnt from the scrolls, she knew the gods and goddesses were never purely good. Even the scrolls on Athena, as much as she had read everything good about her, her judgement on Medusa indeed was not wise nor serving a justice for her loyal priestess.

But why Petosiris was talking about gods? Is this yet another slippery oracle tricks?

“I am not here to talk about gods! Just get back to the topic. I want to know about the Three Elders! The advisors behind Nero. They had nothing to do with gods…” Arete attempt to guide the topic back to the track.

“They are… They are the Theoi.” Petosiris said.

“They control minds, beasts and unknown. They created creatures, through recombination, they reborn and resurrect the death. They granted wishes of man, realising their hopes and open a new horizon for humanity. They are the Theoi.” He added.

“This is ridiculous!” Slamming on the table, Arete burst in anger.

“What a wretched gods! Do you know what they had done to my people? They separated the heads of my warriors, and stitched bull heads to their body. Making those monsters to eat one another. Trapping their souls within the body.

Do you know how painful is it for me… to see them burning alive? They are Syracusean warriors, my people, from my homeland. I can’t even imagine what had happened to the other Syracusean!” She cried, clenches her fist, bites her lips, her mind is drowned by the minotaurs they had encountered. Pressing on her still painful chest, she tried to kept her emotion in control through her frantic breaths.

“Gods? I thought they just want to breed some strong men. But what do they really want?” Pryne asked in curiosity.

“Apparently time is a matter and they had lost their patience. After all, a perfect man is to rule the world. But the whole world can never be full of perfect men.”

“They seek to create the Teleios soul, higher than the golden ones. Greater than the nobles. A bloodline of perfection. But how do you see beauty when all men are perfect? How do you know perfection when flaw doesn’t exist?”

“And what it means to be perfect, is subject to their understanding of function. Like a warrior is only seen as perfect when they obey the commands of their king. Their own will and soul, shall be imperfect.”

“For that reason, they… they put a cow’s head on their body?” Arete asked.

Petosiris just nodded, and continued. “Not only that. They put women on the body of vultures, granting them a wish to fly on the sky. Perfect as a being to find and snatch their target.”

“That’s horrendous! Granting wishes? No living women would want to have their heads on top of a vulture!” Arete interrupted. She couldn’t take it anymore. What else did they turned a normal human into?

The clanging sound of hammer hitting suddenly came from the other room. They knew Agave and Matea were working on fixing the broken thyrsus and spear. But that smithing clang reminded them about Hephastos and Harald.

Arete knew for sure, Hector and the warriors were unwillingly made into monsters. But Harald, he willingly accepted a piece of heavy anvil to be attached to his missing right arm.

“We desire to be better. In every way. We always do.” Petosiris noticed that Pryne was not in her focus. She swirled her fingers around the tea cup with a piece of tiny flower floating on top of it. She was staring at that tiny flower.

“And we always desire for greatness, either rising the ranks of heroes, or become rich with golds and jewelries…” Pryne was stunned by what Petosiris just said.

“Knowledge and delicacies and even wishing for a simple life. To have wishes is not wrong, nor evil though…” said Petosiris.

“Hey cuzie, look what I’ve made!” Agave suddenly burst into their meeting room and interrupted their conversation.

She shows them a spear which she just fixed. The spear looks as good as a new one. Although a spear is a simple pole weapon and Arete’s spearhead just suffered a light bending while the pole was broken by the minotaur. Getting the spearhead hammered flat and fixing it to a new pole was a simple task.

Agave was full of enthusiast while Arete, knowing the ease of fixing a spear, was unimpressed by her sudden infiltration.

“It looks like a normal spear, but… wait for it…” Agave said with excitement.

She held the spear horizontally, and she twisted the pole handle to make a turn. The spear popped and was divided into two pieces of staffs with metal chains joining them, making it a nunchaku.

“Tada! Now you can use it to roll some dough or beat up some fish paste! But that’s not all! Wait for it…” Agave continued.

She then pulled the two shorter staffs apart from each other, the pulled chains triggered an additional blade to pop out from the other end of the staffs.

“Wala! Now you may use these two to chop some leeks!” She held both staffs like holding drumsticks, making the drumming motion.

Arete took a deep breath, and sighed, “Can I have a normal spear please?”

“Amazing, truly the Teleios of Thebes had great mind above Archimedes of Syracuse.” Petosiris praised.

“Hah! You’re damn right!” Agave was overjoyed, as she successfully gained some attention from this oracle. She then ran back to the forging area. While Matea was there waiting for the gold shards of Agave’s broken thyrsus to melt in the crucible.

Great mind above Archimedes of Syracuse…

Arete was dumbfounded, she saw Agave differently after realising that she could be the one with best mind amongst them.

I should have realised that, with that thyrsus…

“You are right, Lady Arete. You are not chosen. Not even Lady Pryne. They, the Three Elders, may not be aware of the truth either.” Said Petosiris.

BAM!!! BAM!!! BAM!!!

Suddenly someone banging the main door.