One day... 'Myrinia was precisely in need of these medicines, Rhodes Island mercenary madam. You have our boundless thanks for coming all this way!' 'Elżbieta Bosak, operator codename Ela.' 'Hah! There was an old local saying before Sargon came: 'Respect the Minoan, even should they come bearing gifts.' You may be of Kazimierz, but that striking majesty—in you is the stuff of Minos!' 'I'm not sure that saying means what you think... Anyway, I'd like to ask you something, seeing as you're the leader around here.' 'Very well! As temple priest, I promise you that any answers I hold are yours!' 'I'm told this nation only recently gained independence?' 'Yes and no. Minos and Hymnoi were born to walk together, two peas in a pod, their histories as one; that said, speaking solely of when we drove out the Sargonians... Hah! The great River Delphi has seen neither pike nor polearm in decades! While West Vouivre still battles with Sargon...' 'And since your independence, you've been working on a large-scale cultural revival and art restoration?' '...Oh, so that's what you meant—I should be clear, placid as Myrinia is, it is by no means in dire straits. All the daily medicines and inhibitor doses used by the villagers are, as you can see, a duty easily borne by my temple. Let alone the claim that the sculptures outside—dating from the ancient city-states—are left unrepaired for a lack of funds!' 'Then why are you leaving your marble statues out there in pieces?' 'The course and prayers of our ceremonial rites, the neighbors and their village, all I know by heart; the bygone affairs of the three capitals, and the wider state of the greater land, I am likewise well-informed. 'Yet how can I possibly know the who, the what, and the why of those sculptures' makers and molders? Whither did strike their chisel, and whence did fall their hammer? 'I know not, the villagers know not, and nor do the masters of crafts or the sophists of the scholastic—how then, can I repair them? Hence, they have never been repaired.' 'Why not use your imagination?' 'Nay, nay! The chroniclers shall be anonymous, as shall the heroes! The man in the wine jar with not a coming nor a going has biographers still to testify of him to this very day. 'Think about it, now. Supposing today I went to the wilds beyond the village and sought a statue, unknown and unnamed. Presumably by my Forte's strength, I could on my own have it standing anew. 'Yet I could also go out today and plant a stake in the ground, and what difference would that make?' '...When the artist is known by no one, the art transcends society.' 'If you were to put it in baffling terms, then more or less, yes!' 'But it's not like you want art that transcends society.' '...If you were to put it in baffling terms, then more or less, yes!' 'Then how about art that <i>records</i> society?' Another day... The fowls commence their recital of the verse of daybreak, Minos's golden sun dawns His golden gift upon the village of Myrinia as He always has, and the villagers are startled to find that the temple's solemn walls do not, as was their custom and theirs alone, return that gift with the purest white dazzling gleam. 'Priest, what are these garish drawings?' 'The artist claims them to be our very selves—this is a kind of foreign wall art by the name of 'graffiti'!'