Chapter One: The Caravan Arrives
Chorus:
A city is a door, and sometimes the world knocks. Sometimes, it barges in with banners and bells, with riddles and rumors, with gifts and trouble in equal measure. Today, Thebes opens wide, and the wind carries change.
Thebes, morning. The city's gates—ancient, battered, proud—stand open for the first time in living memory. The people gather on rooftops and balconies, peering down the dusty road. Children press against the walls, whispering wild tales: "They have camels with silver hooves!" "They eat fire for breakfast!" "They speak in riddles and never blink!"
Antheia stands at the gate, Echo at her side. Jocasta, regal and slightly anxious, watches from the steps. Agent Gray, notebook in hand, mutters to himself about "protocols" and "potential border incidents."
The first sound is music—a strange, lilting tune, half laughter, half lament. Then come the banners: crimson, gold, indigo, fluttering in the breeze. The caravan itself is a riot of color and chaos. Painted wagons creak, camels and donkeys plod, and people of every hue and garb stride forward, eyes bright with curiosity.
At the head of the caravan rides a woman in a cloak of peacock feathers. Her smile is wide and knowing.
Caravan Leader (bowing with a flourish):
Greetings, Thebes!
We come in peace, in trade, and in song.
We bring gifts, stories, and, if you're lucky, only a little trouble.
Antheia (smiling, voice clear):
Welcome to Thebes.
We have bread, questions, and a city full of opinions.
The crowd laughs, tension easing. Thebes's bakers immediately begin sizing up the newcomers' bread.
Chorus:
The city is a pot on the boil—
Curiosity, suspicion, and excitement bubbling together.
The caravan pours into the city. Children chase after painted lizards and strange birds. Merchants haggle in three languages at once. Thebes's resident goat, Persephone, tries to eat a tapestry, causing a minor diplomatic incident.
Echo (to Antheia, sotto voce):
Do you trust them?
Antheia (watching the crowd):
I trust the story to get interesting.
Scene shift: The council chamber, hastily assembled. Jocasta presides, Agent Gray stands ready with a list of "welcoming protocols," and the Chorus lurks in the gallery, already composing a new ballad.
Jocasta:
We must decide—how open are our gates?
How open are our hearts?
A merchant grumbles about "foreign spices." A scholar is already pestering the mapmaker for tales of distant lands. The bakers propose a welcome feast, and the healers want to know if the newcomers have any rare herbs.
Caravan Leader (smiling):
We bring what we have, and we ask only for a place at your table.
Chorus:
A city is a table—
And there's always room for one more,
If you're willing to share the bread.
Scene shift: The market square, now a riot of color and sound. The newcomers display their wares: silks that shimmer like water, spices that make the air tingle, puzzles and games that baffle the cleverest Theban child.
A juggler tosses flaming torches, a storyteller spins tales of cities that float and mountains that sing. Thebes's own performers rise to the challenge, and soon the square becomes a stage for friendly rivalry.
Echo (watching, grinning):
I think we're going to need a bigger table.
Antheia:
Or a longer story.
Night falls. Lanterns glow. Thebes and the caravan feast together, laughter and music echoing off the city's stones. For a moment, suspicion fades, and the city is simply alive—curious, hungry, hopeful.
Chorus (closing):
Thebes has opened its gates,
And the world has stepped inside.
What comes next is anyone's guess—
But it will not be dull.
As the stars rise, Antheia stands at the city wall, watching the new arrivals settle in. Echo joins her, arms full of strange fruit and stranger questions.
Echo:
Do you think we made the right choice?
Antheia (smiling):
Ask me tomorrow.
Tonight, let's just listen to the world knocking.
Chorus:
Thebes is awake,
The story is new,
And adventure is at the door.
End of Episode 1.
Ready for Episode 2: Strangers at the Table?
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