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The thermopolia was a wreck.
Broken chairs lay in splinters, tables overturned, spilled wine painting the floor like blood. The air was heavy with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and the faint copper tang of violence.
Kassandra stormed in through the doorway, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
"What in the name of the gods happened here!?"
Every patron froze. The owner — a stout man with a balding head and a crooked nose — looked up from behind the counter where he was still shaking from the brawl. His name was Menon, and everyone in Sami knew that if you wanted cheap wine and juicy gossip, his thermopolia was the place.
"Menon!" Kassandra barked, striding forward. "Are you alright?"
Menon blinked, startled for a moment before recognizing her. "Kassandra! By the gods, it's good you're here. I'm fine—mostly fine—but look at this place!" He waved a trembling hand around the wreckage. "How am I supposed to pay for all this damage, eh? The tables, the walls, the barrels—ruined! I'll need a small army of carpenters just to fix the ceiling!"
Kassandra frowned. "Who did this?"
Menon sighed, gesturing toward two figures standing awkwardly amid the chaos — Alexios and Lukas.
"These two," he said, half exasperated and half impressed. "I'm not blaming them, mind you. They saved the place from those Cyclops bastards. But the damage they caused— Oh by the gods, if I'd known, I'd have paid the protection money instead!"
Alexios rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Ah… sorry about that, old man. Things got a little… out of hand."
Lukas coughed into his fist. "A little?"
Alexios quickly recovered, puffing up his chest and patting it proudly. "Don't worry, I'll pay for the damages. I still have plenty of drachmae to—"
He froze mid-sentence, reaching for the small sack of coins Atlas had given them. His face fell when he felt nothing but air.
"What…?" he muttered, rummaging through the bag again, then again, more desperately. "Where's the money!?"
Lukas blinked. "You had it."
"I did, but now it's gone!"
Lukas started checking his own pouch, only to find it equally empty. His expression darkened. "You spent all of it on wine and food, didn't you?"
Alexios hesitated. "…Maybe a little."
Lukas groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Atlas is going to kill us."
Kassandra crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently as she watched the two whispering frantically to each other. "Well?" she demanded. "Are you going to pay for the damages or not?"
Alexios turned to her with a disarming grin. "Ah, we were just, uh… discussing payment methods."
Kassandra's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Payment methods?"
"Yes!" Alexios said quickly. "You see, we could either pay with money… or, if you prefer, we could pay with charm." He gave her a wink.
Lukas groaned again, muttering, "Oh, by the gods, here we go…"
Kassandra raised an eyebrow. "Charm? From you? I've seen goats with more dignity."
Alexios clutched his chest dramatically. "You wound me! I was only trying to lighten the mood."
"Then lighten your pockets," Kassandra snapped. "You broke half the place!"
Lukas tried to step between them. "Hey now, let's all calm down. Nobody needs to—"
"Stay out of it," they both said in unison, glaring at him. Lukas threw his hands up in surrender.
Kassandra's temper flared. "You think you can just wreck my friend's tavern and walk away smiling?"
Alexios leaned forward, smirking. "Depends. Are you going to stop me?"
The challenge hung in the air like lightning before a storm.
Kassandra tilted her head, eyes glinting. "If you're so eager to fight, prove it outside."
Alexios's grin widened. "Gladly."
The two squared off, glaring at each other, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.
Meanwhile, just outside the bustling marketplace, Atlas strolled through the narrow stone paths of Sami, weaving past merchants shouting prices and sailors boasting of sea monsters. The air was filled with the scent of salt, baked bread, and freshly caught fish roasting over coals. His mind was calm — until a peculiar set of voices caught his attention near a pottery stall.
A group of local women had gathered, fanning themselves and gossiping animatedly over amphorae and olives. Their laughter carried over the hum of the crowd.
"Did you see them?" one of the younger women exclaimed, eyes wide. "Two handsome warriors — one tall and broad as a bull, the other with eyes like storm clouds! By the gods, I've never seen men like that in Sami!"
Another woman leaned in, smirking. "Ha! The one with a sword— with the chiseled jaw and the cheeky grin? He could charm Aphrodite herself if he smiled a little longer."
A third, older one gave a scoff. "Please. The large one's better. Muscles like that make a woman feel safe — or crushed, depending on the mood."
The eldest woman among them, her hair streaked with gray but her grin as sharp as ever, raised a brow and said slyly, "Only children pick one. I'll take both."
The entire group erupted in laughter, fanning themselves harder as they teased each other.
Atlas stopped mid-step, sighing heavily as realization dawned.
"Of course. It's them," he muttered under his breath.
The ladies, noticing his amused but tired look, turned toward him.
One of them nudged the other. "What's this? Another handsome one joins the island? Maybe you're friends with those two?"
Atlas gave a tight-lipped smile. "Unfortunately, yes. Very close friends, in fact."
The eldest laughed knowingly. "Ah, then I pity you, handsome traveler. It seems that wherever they go, chaos follows!"
Atlas groaned softly. "I know."
He thanked them politely and turned toward the sound of a growing commotion nearby — laughter mixed with shouting, the unmistakable clang of tables breaking. "It's not even one full day," he sighed, "and they've already started another mess."
He followed the noise through the crowd, pushing through a ring of gawking villagers who were peering into a half-destroyed thermopolia. Some were whispering in excitement, others placing casual bets about who would win the argument now unfolding inside.
Atlas squeezed past a few onlookers and finally saw the scene: the familiar wreckage of tables and barrels, a scowling Kassandra facing off against a smug Alexios, and poor Lukas standing between them looking ready to drop dead from stress.
Atlas's eyes widened briefly as recognition struck.
Kassandra. The Eagle Bearer. And she's standing face-to-face with her brother.
He couldn't help the grin that tugged at his lips. "Fate really does have a sense of humor," he muttered. "Alexios met her before I could."
Inside the Thermopolia
"—If you're so eager to fight," Kassandra said, voice sharp as steel, "then prove it outside."
Alexios crossed his arms, smirking. "Fine by me. Just don't cry when you lose."
Lukas groaned. "Oh, for the love of—can't we go one day without starting a brawl? One?"
Menon, the owner, peeked out from behind the counter, rubbing his temples. "Please, take your fighting outside. The last time someone dueled in here, I had to rebuild my roof! Roofs don't come cheap, you know!"
Before Alexios could open his mouth, a calm voice cut through the noise.
"No need for that, Alexios. Or you, my lady," Atlas said, stepping through the doorway with practiced ease. His presence instantly drew eyes. He carried himself with a quiet confidence — not loud, not brash, but commanding nonetheless.
Kassandra turned sharply toward him, eyes narrowing. "And who in Hades are you supposed to be?"
Atlas smiled faintly. "A friend. And someone trying to keep these two from starting wars wherever they go."
Alexios grinned sheepishly. "Hey, Atlas! Fancy seeing you here."
Lukas, still catching his breath, exhaled in relief. "Finally. You took your time."
Atlas folded his arms. "So… let me guess. I leave you two for a few hours, and somehow, you destroy an entire tavern?"
Alexios raised a finger. "Hey, this time is different!"
"Oh really?" Atlas said dryly. "Did you burn it down instead of breaking it?"
Lukas snorted. "No, but we almost did."
Alexios glared. "You're not helping!"
Kassandra watched the exchange, arms crossed. "You're all insane."
Atlas turned to her, still calm. "You're not wrong. Now, about the damages…"
Menon piped up nervously from behind the counter. "Are you really going to pay for all this? Because I could cry with joy right now."
Atlas reached into his pouch and tossed a small sack of drachmae onto the counter. It landed with a satisfying clink. "That should cover it. For the damages, and the wine they drank instead of saving their money."
Menon blinked at the heavy bag, eyes wide. "By the gods… this is more than enough! You're a good man, traveler."
Atlas gave a small nod. "Then we're even. No debts, no trouble."
He then looked between Alexios and Lukas, his tone turning wry. "And as for you two — you just had to make trouble while I was away, didn't you?"
Alexios crossed his arms stubbornly. "This is different! We didn't start it!"
Lukas nodded quickly. "He's actually telling the truth this time. The Cyclops's men came in demanding protection money."
Atlas arched a brow. "And you thought the best way to solve that was by starting a brawl?"
Alexios grinned proudly. "Well, the furniture was already weak!"
Lukas facepalmed. "You're impossible."
Atlas pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, "I swear, one day you'll bring the entire Greek world down just because you got bored."
Kassandra, who had been quietly observing, finally smirked. "They fight well though. Messy, but effective. Almost reminds me of someone I know."
Atlas met her gaze. "Eagle bearer, right? The misthios who works with Markos."
She blinked, caught off guard. "You know Markos?"
Atlas chuckled softly. "Let's just say I had the pleasure of meeting him earlier. I can see why you're so busy cleaning up after him."
Kassandra groaned. "Don't remind me."
Atlas extended his hand slightly, his voice polite but firm. "Then perhaps we can talk. I've been looking for you."
Her eyes narrowed again, curious but cautious. "And why would that be?"
Atlas smiled faintly. "Let's just say our paths were meant to cross."
End of Chapter 31
(PS: Please support me on patreon there 70+ chapters there)
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