Ki-ur Kakkabu

Chapter 35: A Long-forgotten Relic

Themistonoe took a deep breath to calm her nerves and steady her fast heartbeat. She was about to discover revelations beyond imagination. With great care, she ran her old fingers beneath the ribbon, holding onto a record of lives long gone, waiting for their stories to be told again.

Holding the lamp carefully, Themistonoe let its warm light illuminate the decaying scroll as she gently unrolled it. The paper felt thin and fragile as if a slight breath could send it back to the depths of eternity.

She held her breath, the lamp casting light on faded columns of writing from the beginning of ancient times. The handwriting belonged to an unknown person, preserving thoughts in this pocket of preserved time, waiting for her alone to uncover the secrets locked away since the early days of civilisation:

"In the 14th year of King Orthagoras,

The moon hangs low and full as I pick up my pen to begin records. I have seen twenty olive harvests in these fertile fields, and it is time for me to preserve our family's history, as my ancestors have done before me.

I am Echephron, son of Timocles, from the famous House of Thespiae. Our lineage goes back to the time of heroes and beyond when the great Thessalonians walked these shores and helped establish our cities. It is both an honour and a duty to write about my days for future generations, just like my father and grandfather did.

This villa has stood on top of the hill since my ancestor, Callimachus, claimed these lands after the departure of the Danaans. For over three centuries, our land has thrived under the rule of kings and democracies alike. Vines full of grapes still climb the terraced hillsides, promising another plentiful harvest in the coming autumn.

Down in the city, torches flicker in the evening, marking the start of celebrations to honour Dionysus. Music and laughter mix in the scented breeze of wine, bringing back memories of my younger days spent wandering those streets.

It's remarkable how quickly the role has changed. Now, I find myself as the head of the family entrusted with the responsibility of governing this territory and continuing our lineage.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of the ploughing season for the upcoming year of growth. As darkness falls, I stand on my balcony and think about all the events that have led me to this moment—struggles and triumphs intertwined like the grapevines. Now, I must ensure their prosperity for future generations.

Thus, I start writing, dipping my pen into black ink while the stars appear, casting a bright light over the fields below. May the gods make sure these words remain for a long time after I die. Here, I begin the history of my family with seriousness. As the saying goes, fate will decide the rest."

Themistonoe carefully unfolded the paper, enjoying each discovery from the distant past. The first pages showed the daily activities of farming life and family: ploughing fields, taking care of the grapevines, family gatherings, and traditions to mark the changing seasons.

Echephron captured it all very accurately, vividly portraying the simple country life under the rule of a forgotten monarchy. However, as Themistonoe read further into the manuscript, she started to notice subtle signs of more significant problems hidden beneath the peaceful scenes.

Trade routes became dangerous as neighbouring powers fought over resources. Bad harvests left the people weak and restless. Worst of all, a mysterious disease affected the olive groves, putting the region's main source of income at risk.

Echephron wrote about nights without sleep, walking on the balconies, praying to gods who seemed indifferent to their pleas. In their growing desperation, they started considering a different path - a revelation that left Themistonoe breathless as she read Echephron's detailed words: