Chapter Twenty: Thebes at the Turning
Chorus:
A city is a living thing—a beast with a thousand voices, a heart that never stops beating, and a memory longer than the oldest olive tree. Tonight, Thebes stands at the turning of its story: not the end, not the beginning, but that wild, wobbly moment when you take a breath and leap.
The moon is fat and smug above the rooftops, as if even the gods are watching to see what happens next.
Scene One: The City Wakes (and Wakes Again)
Thebes, morning. The city is hungover from celebration, but not from wine—rather, from hope. The Festival of Names lingers in the air like the last notes of a catchy tune you can't quite forget.
A rooster crows. Then another. And then, inexplicably, a third rooster crows in perfect harmony, as if auditioning for a poultry opera.
Chorus (deadpan):
Even the chickens are feeling dramatic.
Antheia (formerly The F*** It All) sits on her windowsill, hair wild, eyes bright. She's wrapped in a blanket and sipping something that is either herbal tea or the world's least effective potion.
Echo bursts in, waving a scroll.
Echo:
The council wants to know if we're coming to the Great Debate.
Antheia:
Do they want an answer, or just a dramatic entrance?
Echo:
Both. Jocasta's already there, and Agent Gray is timing speeches with a sundial.
Antheia:
That's optimistic. Last time, the bakers union filibustered with a bread recipe.
Echo:
It was a very good recipe.
Antheia:
It had four kinds of olives.
(pause)
Let's go make history.
Chorus:
Or at least, let's go make a scene.
Scene Two: The Great Debate (Now with 23% More Laughter)
The council chamber is packed. Representatives from every walk of life—farmers, merchants, bakers (with samples), healers, scribes, and, for reasons no one quite understands, a goat named Persephone—are present.
Agent Gray stands at the front, holding a sundial and looking faintly traumatized by democracy.
Gray:
Order, please!
Let's remember, every voice matters, but not all at once.
Baker (whispering to the butcher):
If he drops that sundial, I'm claiming it for the bakery.
Jocasta (raising her hand):
Let's begin with the proposals for the city's future.
A scholar stands, unfurling a scroll that unrolls, and unrolls, and unrolls…
Scholar:
I propose a library on every corner, and a corner for every library!
Echo (to Antheia):
That's… ambitious.
Antheia:
I'm still voting for the public bathhouse with heated floors.
A farmer stands, holding up a turnip.
Farmer:
I propose we name the city's new mascot "Turnip the Brave."
Persephone the goat bleats, as if in protest.
Chorus:
Democracy in action:
Half ideas, half chaos, all heart.
Amid the laughter, real work happens. Laws are debated, stories are shared, and the city's wounds are named and faced.
Scene Three: The Heart of the Matter
As the debate winds down, Jocasta stands. The room hushes.
Jocasta:
We have come far, but we are not finished.
We must remember our pain, but not let it define us.
Let us honor what was lost by building something new—together.
Antheia rises, voice strong.
Antheia:
We are not the city we were.
We are not the city we will become.
We are Thebes—unfinished, unbroken, and unafraid.
Echo:
And we have the best bread in the world.
Baker (proudly):
With olives!
Chorus:
Hope is a strange thing—
It grows in the cracks,
It laughs at old wounds,
It dares you to keep going.
Scene Four: The Night Before Tomorrow
The city square. Lanterns glow. Children chase each other, giggling. The bakers have set up a midnight feast (with more olives). Musicians play, and the air is thick with possibility.
Antheia, Echo, and Jocasta sit on the steps, sharing a loaf of bread and watching the stars.
Echo:
Do you think we did enough?
Jocasta:
Enough for today. Tomorrow, we do more.
Antheia:
Tomorrow, we start Volume Two.
They laugh, the sound rolling out over the city.
Chorus:
Thebes is not perfect.
But it is alive.
A shadow falls over the group. It's Agent Gray, holding a tray of pastries.
Gray:
I brought… something.
I think they're called "optimism rolls."
Antheia:
Are they filled with hope or just raisins?
Gray (deadpan):
Both. And a little cinnamon.
They eat, and for a moment, all is well.
Scene Five: What Comes Next
A hush falls. The Chorus gathers in the square, unmasked and unafraid.
Oldest Chorus Member:
We have watched kings rise and fall.
We have sung of sorrow and hope.
Now, we sing of beginnings.
Chorus (singing, with a wink):
Thebes is a city of stories—
And the best ones are still to come.
A messenger arrives, breathless.
Messenger:
There's news from the border—
A caravan of strangers, bearing gifts and questions.
The city stirs. Possibilities bloom.
Antheia (smiling):
Looks like tomorrow's already knocking.
Echo:
Should we answer?
Jocasta:
With open arms. And maybe more bread.
Chorus:
The world is wide,
And Thebes is ready.
Scene Six: The Final Word (For Now)
The moon is high. The city sleeps, but dreams boldly.
Antheia stands atop the city walls, Echo and Jocasta beside her. Lanterns flicker below, stars burn above.
Antheia:
We've written the first chapter.
Tomorrow, we write the next.
Echo:
With more jokes.
Jocasta:
And fewer tyrants.
Gray (from below):
And better pastries!
Chorus (closing, with a grin):
This is not the end.
It's the pause before the next great adventure.
Thebes is waiting.
And so are we.
Epilogue: The Promise of Tomorrow
Chorus:
So here we are—at the end of Volume One.
No cliffhangers, just the sweet ache of anticipation.
Thebes is alive, and so is its story.
There will be new challenges, new laughter, new heartbreak,
And always, always, more bread.
We'll see you in Volume Two—
Where the world gets bigger, the jokes get better,
And Thebes dares to dream even wilder.
Until then, remember:
Every ending is just a new beginning in disguise.
Curtain falls.
Laughter echoes.
The story waits.
Thank you for reading Volume One. Volume Two: "Thebes and the Wide World" coming soon!