Both father and son work tirelessly, pulling weeds from the orchard and tilling the soil around the roots for finishing touches. Daniil pauses, setting his sickle down, and lifts his gaze to the sky. The weather is bright and clear, clouds scattered across the blue. Most of his fear about the city's destruction has faded; the hard labor has helped both him and Andreas forget, if only for a while, the looming doom. A bead of sweat slides down his forehead, wiped away with the back of his forearm. His eyes drift to his father, fully absorbed in digging canals to let water from the stream flow smoothly through the orchard.
Andreas notices his son sitting idly.
"Tired already? We still have the rest of this orchard left. Better put more effort into it!" he calls, his voice strained from the effort. Daniil snaps from his daze.
"I'm just taking a short break… It's too hot out today…" he replies evenly. Andreas glances skyward but quickly looks away from the blinding sun. He blinks, then lowers his gaze back to the soil, resuming his work on the water channels.
"Yeah, can't deny that!" Andreas shouts, part from exertion, part from the distance between them.
***
Admetus rides through the crowded Agora, the marketplace busier than ever. He scans the crowds, puzzled, his horse moving steadily, hands firm on the reins.
"Strange…" he murmurs.
"What, sire?" one of his guards asks.
"Considering… well… I'm not sure whether to believe it," Admetus begins, trailing off before continuing. "Let's assume that prophecy was true. The meteor shower happened, confirming the shrouded women's claims. Then why are there more people here than usual? Shouldn't they be—"
"Scared?" the guard finishes.
Admetus nods. "Yes… I don't see any sign of fear, any worry about whether those women spoke the truth."
"The people are brave, sire," the guard says. "Arcadia is not a city of cowards."
Admetus looks at him, struck by conviction. The guard continues:
"Being the chosen people of the gods doesn't mean we're pampered. Arcadia built itself. The gods didn't lay a single stone for us. True, we enjoy their favor more than most, but we don't cower when trouble comes!"
The words ring like a speech meant to stir courage. Admetus listens intently, distracted from the path ahead. A group along the street draws his attention.
"Sire, the road!" the guard shouts.
Admetus jerks the reins, startled, the motion sending a jolt through his hangover. He suffers silently as the pain fades, his thoughts returning to the guard's words.
"You're right. I apologize for underestimating Arcadians' courage," he says.
"No, sire! Please don't. I let myself get carried away too."
"No, your words hold weight. I've lived here over thirty-six years. Never have I seen the people bend before injustice. Demons may try, but fear has never broken their spirit. It would be my mistake to doubt them."
The guard bows slightly, hand over chest, then reins, atop his horse. Admetus continues:
"And I forgot… the Divine Angel Volios. He guards us. Perhaps we've taken him for granted."
"We've never seen him, sire," the guard replies. "Only in books and the academy. Our eyes have never beheld the angel who watches over us."
Admetus reflects. "Neither have I. But we must believe. Our faith holds our fate."
"Correct, sire," the guard answers, and the group rides on in silence.
Upon reaching the townhall, Admetus dismounts, followed by his men. He ascends the marble steps, the burly guard opening the golden doors. Inside, servants line the halls, bowing slightly as he passes, and he reaches Khnouphis' office.
Khnouphis looks up from a tall stack of papers. "Oh… What brings you here today?"
"What do you mean? It is the duty of Arcadia's general to stand by the city's leader in trying times."
"And your parents? Shouldn't you be with them?"
Admetus shakes his head, moving to a chair. "My parents didn't raise a son to abandon his duty. Here I am. Sorry it's not a beautiful woman—you'll have to make do with this old man," he adds, pointing to himself.
Khnouphis chuckles softly, then breaks into hearty laughter. Admetus joins, both shaking with amusement.
When the laughter fades, Khnouphis returns to work. "Then so be it."
Admetus sits quietly, both lost in thought, unaware of how soon fate will test them.
***
The sun nears the horizon. Daniil stretches, easing his back after a full day of work. The orchard is cleared of weeds. Andreas surveys the fields, eyes narrowing.
"All done, finally," he says. Daniil glances at his father, then the sickle in his hand.
"Yeah. Finally some peace after days of labor."
Andreas gathers the tools, heading to the well. "Come on, time to go home."
Daniil grabs the broom, strides alongside him. "Okay, let's go."
Their footsteps and the crickets' song break the silence. At the well, Andreas sets down his tools.
"Let me wash my face before we go," he says, lowering the bucket into the water. Splashing over his face, he rinses the day's grime. Daniil tilts his head back, eyes catching the fading stars—a reminder of last night's meteor shower.
Andreas hoists the tools and heads home. Daniil draws water, washing himself before following.
Back at home, Meri serves dinner. The family sits cross-legged on the floor, eating together.
"The weeding's done? Or is there still more left?" she asks.
Andreas responds mid-bite, "Today we finally cleared the orchard. Now we wait for the trees to bear fruit. Then we'll sell or trade—maybe this time the yield will be better…"
Meri listens intently. The younger sisters focus on their food. Daniil chews quietly, watching them all.
Just like any other day… he thinks.