Divine Science: Chapter 2 – Kyros of Zarax

Chapter 2 of the Divine Science pack from the Facebook game, Assassin's Creed: Project Legacy.

Memory Details

Subject: Kyros of Zarax

Location: Ancient Greece

Time Period: 6^th Century BCE

In-Game Introduction Video

Video Summary: The DDS is attempting to synchronize millennia old memories. Because the memories you'll explore are ancient, you may feel disoriented even confused. You may also find it hard to discern reality from fiction. This is normal, please remain calm.

Following the events we unlocked in the last sequence, you will now explore the origins of the Hermeticists tradition. You will follow the exploits of the Pythagoras of Samos, the Greek mathematician and scholar. You are one of his protégé, Kyros of Zarax.

Harmony

I return to Samos a champion. The people are proud of my accomplishments, as though they had reaped the honor themselves. How gracious of them.

Adagio

Adagio.

Pythagoras, my master, awakens me before dawn. I am fatigued, but happy to serve him. I owe him everything, starting with my victories at Elis.

• I follow Pythagoras through the empty, quiet streets of Samos. Helios has not yet risen in the heavens and the chill of the morning still lingers.
• Pherecydes, an acquaintance of my master, greets us. He is up early. Pythagoras says my performance at the games was nothing short of spectacular. I grin.
• My master compares my exploits with those of Coroebus of Elis. Coroebus! Coming from anyone else, I would have laughed, but he is wise in all things.
• Pherecyde s' hands are soft and clammy when he congratulates me. He is a learned man, but he does not abide by my master's high moral and ethical standards.
• Pherecydes leaves us. Like countless others, he will never experience the liberating power of abstinence and asceticism. I feel truly blessed.
• We continue at a leisurely pace, quiet and contemplative. The people will soon forget I was their champion, but it is of no consequence, for I will not.

Accelerano

Accelerano.

Samos slowly awakens. We enjoy a frugal breakfast— bread dipped in wine— at the agora as the morning chill vanishes. It will be a blistering day.

• We are near the local smithy when Pythagoras abruptly stops and shuts his eyes. What has caught his attention, I cannot tell over the bustle of the city.
• Pythagoras moves with increasing speed toward the smithy. He enters it and, gasping for air, urges the blacksmiths to continue their work.
• My master's face glistens with sweat as he moves from one smith to another, paying close attention. He suddenly picks up a hammer and strikes an anvil.
• The smiths drop their work to form a circle around Pythagoras. He takes another hammer. "Twice as heavy," he rasps, striking the anvil again.
• "Listen! Can you hear it?" Pythagoras asks, his voice quivering. "See the difference?" The blacksmiths stare at him, dumbfounded. So do I.
• Pythagoras continues to strike the anvil with hammers of various sizes. He is drenched, but a broad smile distorts his usually austere features.

Allegretto

Allegretto.

We leave the smithy with ten hammers of different sizes. It is not yet midday, but the air outside is almost as unbearable as it was inside the smithy.

• The load I carry makes every muscle in my body ache. My back burns by the time we reach my master's home. This heat is not helping. Helios is furious today!
• As soon as we arrive at the villa, I drop the hammers next to Hestia's altar, in the enclosed courtyard. My back will thank me later.
• The temperature in the courtyard is tolerable , but I recognize the look on my master's face. There will be no midday meal today!
• Following my master's instructions, I place the anvil the blacksmiths have brought to the villa in the middle of the courtyard.
• I hit the anvil, then hit it again, and again. Four strikes with one hammer, and then four strikes with another weighing twice as much. My arm is numb.
• Pythagoras imitates the sounds the hammers make, his voice echoing in the inner courtyard. At dusk, he tells me to stop. Our work, whatever it was, is complete.

Allegro

Allegro.

Pythagoras, on his knees, draws lines in the courtyard's sand. He writes at a furious pace, then throws sand over most of his scribbles, only to begin anew.

• My master writes for hours without rest, refusing any food or drink Theano, his wife, offers. Soon, notes and diagrams cover the courtyard‘s ground.
• Slaves light torches. My master examines and reexamines his notes, occasionally adding a number or two. He mumbles words like "ratios" and "octaves."
• Pythagoras barely touches the food Theano has prepared for the evening meal. "Everything is related," he declares. "Everything adds up!"
• "The first four numbers,“ Pythagoras mutters. "The four elements... The perfect number!" He suddenly stares at me. "I see it now! The tetractys!"
• My master finally sleeps. This will give me a chance to take a look at his notes. I should not be doing this, but I must read them!
• Pythagoras‘ notes in the sand reveal a triangular figure with four rows; a large triangle formed by various smaller ones. His tetractys?

Presto

Presto.

Several men have gathered at my master's villa; renowned scholars and venerable elders crowd the inner courtyard. One of them leans on Hestia's altar! I glare at him until he moves away.

• Most of these men share Pythagoras' beliefs in the fate of the soul. A few of them even follow his strict way of life. Unbelievers are also present.
• They are skeptical when my master explains his theories. They do not understand what he means by "music of the spheres" or what the tetractys represents.
• "There is geometry," Pythagoras says, “in the humming of the strings; there is music in the spacing of the spheres!" His guests stare in silence.
• "Music," Pythagoras explains, "can be expressed as whole number ratios of the first four numbers, which form the tetractys!" Skeptics begin to leave.
• Many guests, however, seem to grasp Pythagoras' hypothesis. I envy them. They question him, so they can better comprehend his theories.
• Orestes, a learned mathematician, raises his cup to honor my master. "The tetractys is the sum of all wisdom!" he declares. "Praise Pythagoras!"

Opus

We arrive in Croton three years to the day after I was named "Periodonikēs," winner of all four festivals— for the second time! Pythagoras views this as a good omen.

Prelude

Prelude.

Croton does not rival Athens in size, and its fortifications are nothing compared to those of Paraeus or Rhodes, but the reputation of its citizens is second to none.

• The city is cast in a golden light as our ship approaches. Like everyone in our party, I cannot take my eyes off Croton. It is as if the city was calling to us, as if we had all heard its Siren's song.
• Pythagoras is the first to speak, interrupting everyone's reveries. "After a long journey, we have finally arrived home. Here, in Croton, we will thrive!"
• Word of my master's coming preceded our arrival, for representatives of the leading citizens welcome him at the harbor. They urge him to meet with the Council of Citizens.
• We follow our guide through the city. Helios has disappeared, but the citizens of Croton have not yet gone home. A crowd gathers around Pythagoras!
• I stay close to my master, gently pushing people out of his way as we make our way to the bouleuterion, the rest of his entourage in tow.
• At the bouleuterion, more people await Pythagoras' arrival. There are hundreds of them! No, thousands!

Overture

Overture.

Members of the Council share Pythagoras' beliefs and value his wisdom. They urge him to speak to the city's youth.

• Hundreds of young men and women gather before my master in front the palaestra. Older citizens have also come to heed his words.
• Most in the crowd have tears in their eyes when Pythagoras completes his speech. I am also deeply moved, but remain calm.
• The people of Croton cheer! Everyone in town, it seems, wants to talk to Pythagoras. They also want to touch him, as though his knowledge and wisdom were contagious.
• The citizens of Croton pose no threat to Pythagoras, but I carefully observe everyone approaching him. One can never be too careful.
• One man shoves a young woman out of his way to reach my master. I grab his arm and twist it so hard I almost break it. That should teach him some manners.
• The woman, an athletic, olive-skinned youth about half my age, smiles at me. Her friends pull her away, giggling. I am going to like it here.

Etude

Etude.

The people of Croton readily follow my master's teachings. Word of his presence quickly spreads to neighboring cities and foreigners come seeking his guidance.

• The academy attracts countless students; hundreds of men and women eager to follow my master's ways. They do not yet realize how fortunate they are.
• A youth named Alcmaeon arrives at the academy. He is intelligent, but arrogant and undisciplined. For some reason, Pythagoras takes him under his wing.
• I meet an athlete named Milo. This giant young man has seen me run at Nemea, and he wants me to help him become a champion.
• Milo has already won the boys' wrestling championship at the Olympics. He has great potential and I am happy to teach him everything I know.
• Contrary to Alcmaeon, who ceaselessly questions Pythagoras, Milo embraces my master's lessons. S urely, he will become the greatest athlete of his generation.
• Pythagoras' philosophy reaches far and wide. More and more men and women adhere to his ways. I am gratified, but not surprised. He is, after all, a truly great man.

Progression

Progression.

Milo brings honor to Croton, and to my master. He has won all four tournaments! I have mixed emotions about being surpassed by my protégé.

• We celebrate Milo's victory with my master's family. It is an intimate affair, but Pythagoras, the master of ritual, turns it into a grand occasion.
• I praise Milo and announce I will not participate in next year's games. Damo, my master's daughter, raises her cup. "To our former champion, and truest friend!"
• The food Theano has prepared is worthy of kings, but everyone eats sparingly, as my master teaches. Only Alcmaeon drinks more than one cup of wine.
• Milo's face turns red when Myia addresses him; a giant of a man, a champion, intimidated by a young girl! I feel for him. Myia is, after all, Pythagoras' youngest daughter.
• Alcmaeon comments Milo's malaise. How tactless! I bite my lip, but Myia laughs, kissing Milo's cheek before disappearing into the kitchen.
• Alcmaeon leaves, slamming the door behind him. For a long while, Pythagoras stares at the door, then he turns to us. "No man is free who cannot control himself."

Suite

Suite.

We are on our way to the academy when Pythagoras abruptly stops. "Listen!" All is quiet in the early morning, save for the distant sound of yelping.

• Pythagoras is surprisingly fast when he needs to be. I follow him toward the sound, and discover the owner of a young mutt beating it with a stick!
• Pythagoras grabs the man's stick and moves between the pup and its owner. I stay close, keeping an eye on the aggressor. People begin to gather around us.
• The mutt's owner moves toward Pythagoras, glances at me, and stops. He shakes his head and opens his mouth, but remains silent.
• "Do not harm this dog!" Pythagoras' commands. The crowd around us grows. "This animal bears the soul of an old friend! I hear his voice in its cries."
• It is not the first time my master uncovers proof of the immortality of the soul, but his extraordinary instinct never ceases to astound me.
• "Of rational beings," someone declares, "one sort is divine, one is human, and another is such as Pythagoras!" People cheer.

Grand Finale

Many influential citizens of Croton are now devoted to Pythagoras' ascetic way of life, but some important elders continue to question his wisdom.