Atlifia. It was a name I would say over and over again to myself. Atlifia.

I had loved her since the day she arrived to our world, been dubbed a Macedonian.

Aristotle had brought her over with him from Sparta and she had indeed been a treasure. In Sparta, the most beautiful among women are sent to serve the oracles and can be used as they would by those who are servants to them. Atlifia was one such beauty.

Her parents, who she never knew, begged Aristotle to bring her to Macedon as he came to tutor the then young, Alexander. Of course, being a king of a man, the great teacher had consented and she was hailed a Macedonian, raised as one of the royal.

I was around ten when she came…

"Go on dear boys," Olympius said, waving her delicate hands. "You shall have a new teacher today, one well known for his intelligence and skill. We shall have the finest, brightest boys in the entire world."

I smile and we boys begin an argument on who shall be the most well known.

Alexander puffs out his chest with a grin and says, "Of course, you will all be under my rule."

I grimace. If only I were king.

There is a knock at the door in with all our scrabbling, no one really hears it before Olympius shushes us and opens the door into the chamber. A woman, nurse, stands in the doorway with a bundle in her arms. "Milady," she says with a generous curtsy.

I am anxious to see the gift she bears. Perhaps it is something worth a lot of coin, or maybe it is something exotic from across the lands.

Olympius gasps and throws her hands to her throat. "What is this?" she asks, running her hands through her hair. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Milady, she is a gift from the great philosopher, Aristotle."

Olympius claps her hands together. "I can hardly accept," she says.

"He says she has no family," the nurse says quietly.

"Is she christened? Where is she from?"

The boys are all standing on the tips of their toes, trying to get a good glimpse of what the woman holds. I am impatient to see, as well.

"Spartan, milady. She is unclaimed and not yet christened."

I guess that perhaps the bundle conceals a live creature, mayhap an animal or child.

With a decisive nod, the queen takes the bundle into her arms. "We shall call her Atlifia," she says.

Only then do we see the treasure, the Great treasure.

"What is it?" Nearchus asks.

I look at her. An infant with shiny black hair and bright blue eyes stares up at us, mesmerized. She is the most beauteous thing I have ever seen, the most beautiful creature I will ever run across, I know. She had pale skin with bright, red lips and long eyelashes rimmed her vivid blue eyes.

"What sort of gift is this?" Alexander asks, angrily. "Mother, take it away!"

"Hush, Alexander. You will upset her," Olympius says, rocking the child back and forth.

"I don't want another one," Alexander stomps. He crosses his arms and purses his lips, trudging around the room swiftly. "We already have too many!"

Alexander is not one that throws many fits, but he is clearly troubled by the presence of this young goddess in his premises. Alexander has indeed had a selfish streak lately and it something we all grow bored of fast. He has constantly been battling for his mother's attention ever since we returned from one of our harsh lessons in the north. I never beg for attention like this young prince does.

"Alexander, look at her," his mother coos. "She is beautiful."

Alexander reluctantly glances down at the innocent bundle. He has a scowl on his face and his fists clinch. "I-" he begins, but breaks off.

The tiny child reaches out a little hand and touches Alexander's face with a soft giggle.

Everyone's eyes widen and she has stolen all of our hearts as she touches each of us as we gather around her.

I bend over her and stretch out two fingers to touch the soft skin of her arm. I look at her, watch her eyes look all about the room, then focus on me. She claps her hands together and points one of her long, fragile fingers at me. I laugh and she giggles again before blinking her big, sapphire eyes up at me.

"Atlifia," I say with a smile. I am smitten by the child eight years younger than myself.

"Cassander!"

I twist around and see Philotas standing in the opening of my small barrack. He is wearing naught but a thin layer of fabric around his waist. He is smirking broadly and shakes his mane of fair hair, sending droplets of water all about the tent.

"To whom do I owe the pleasure of your company on this hot day?" I ask, a little annoyed. It is damned hot outside, the sun scorching down on us. We have been gone for many a month now and I am anxious to return home to my young bride. I wonder how far she is with child.

"You owe no one the pleasure," Philotas says with a sneer. "No one would seek your pleasure."

Philotas and I do not get along. It was a battle for Atlifia that drove us apart and a battle for Atlifia that keeps us at one another's throats.

"Then leave."

"Alexander bids me send you a message," Philotas says.

I smile and Philotas' lips part into a snarl. "I am no messenger, Cassander," he says hastily, spitting my name with palpable disgust.

I raise my brows. "Out with it, Philotas."

"We are leaving for home tomorrow." And with that, Philotas marches out of the barrack.

Home. Macedon, the sweet grasses of the meadows billowing in the winds, brushing across the lake, making it ripple, the birds singing sweetly as they perch in the branches of the tall trees, their feathers glistening in the bright sun. Home. Atlifia sitting below the singing birds, laughing merrily as she caresses her round stomach, harmonizing with the birds. Her dark hair would be wafting around her, her eyes shining bright, lips red, skin vibrant from the child in her womb. Atlifia.

"Cassander," she whispers as she reaches for the book in my hands.

She is young, beautiful. "Teach me," she demands. "I want to know how!"

I smirk at her. "I didn't even learn to read until I was older than you, Atlifia. I think eight is a little young to learn how to read."

"No! I want to learn now!" she says. "I want to be like you and Alexander and Hephaestion. I want to show Nearchus and Perdicus I am not foolish and stupid. I want to show them I am just as good as they are."

"You can't always get what you want," I say, smiling. I am flirting with the little girl.

She throws out her bottom lip and my heart drops. Her brilliant eyes fill with tears that threaten to drown the world. Her lush lips begin to quiver and her face flushes.

"But…I wish I knew…how," she says, her eyes blurred and voice thick as she tries to hold back her tears. "If I c-could have o-one t-thing," she shakes, "it w-would be someone to t-teach me how to r-read," she says. Her voice drops down to barely a whisper and I have to struggle to make out the words. "I just…want to learn so…badly."

I am close to tears myself. With her eyes pleading up at me, droplets of water running down her face, and her face flushed with defeat, I consent. "Atlifia," I say, wrapping my arms around her tiny body and hugging her softly. "I'll teach you how to read, little one."

"Really?"

"Yes." I would never say no to her again. That would killed me! "You can ask me for anything."

She smiles up at me with those wet eyes. Her lips are parted to reveal her white teeth. "Thank you, Cassander."

And just that way she says my name with a little bit of a husky hiss, I am hers.

"If you could have one thing in the world, what would it be?" I ask Alexander as we ride the long journey back to home. Home. We are so close now. No more than a few days, now.

"I would wish to never be defeated," Alexander says. "My father says a man that is never defeated earns respect that lasts an eternity. He says to never be defeated is to be as mighty as a god."

I laugh and my horse whinnies. "That is a steep aspiration."

"Wishes usually are."

"And what of you, Perdicus?" I ask the man whom I am proud to call my friend.

He looks away. "That is best left unspoken."

I nod. I understand entirely.

"I don't know about anyone else," Nearchus says, "but I'd do anything for a feast with all the meat and skin, fresh off the boar or bull. The tables stacked high with heaps of pies and soups, sweet liquor, cool in my mouth, woman in my lap. A soft cushion under my ass, breeze in the air for a change," he fans himself for effect and grins. "Perhaps even a warm bath and soft silk to lie on, a pillow stuffed with white feathers."

I sigh. We all miss home so badly.

A cloud passes over the sun for a moment and we are thankful for the minute of relief from our everlasting, faithful companion. Damn sun.

"Do you suppose I could ever travel on one of your missions with you?" Atlifia asks. She is so beautiful, just eleven. I have never wanted something so severely.

"That is out of the question," I say, my voice cracking. So gorgeous, so young, soft, attractive, innocent, fresh.

"Why?" she asks, every full of questions. I can see she is on the peak of hitting womanhood, her body just beginning to change. The newfound curve of her body beginning to make itself more noticeable. I wonder how long she stood looking at herself in the mirror, wondered if she noticed she was starting to change and develop. No doubt, she would be a fine, young woman.

"You could get hurt," I finally answer. "You might even die."

"No I wouldn't," she says, crossing her arms. "I can fight just as well as you can."

I snorted and bit my lip. "Do you think so?"

"Well, perchance with a little practice," she said. "Could you teach me to fight?"

"Women do not fight, Atlifia. You know that."

"No one would ever know about it," Atlifia said, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention to our conversation. We were sitting in the palace courtyard below a young sapling.

"It would be pointless. You'd never need to fight."

"What if we were attacked one day?" she asked defiantly. "What then?"

"The guards and men would protect you."

"I don't need anyone to protect me. I just need to know how to fight."

I smile at her and look up to the sun. "What is it you fear, Atlifia?"

"I fear nothing!"

"Everyone fears something," I say.

"I fear that which I know nothing about."

"Alexander's horse once feared its own shadow. It did not know what it was. It was dark, could change its size and shape, and sometimes it would just disappear. Everyday he walked out into the sun the thing would chase after him no matter how fast he ran. The beast didn't know that shadow couldn't hurt him."

Atlifia sighed and said, "He was once a foolish animal was he not?"

"Yes, and you are not foolish, Atlifia. You are very smart." And temptingly sweet, stunning, and not to mention, I want to ravage your young body.

"You are very intelligent, as well," she said and took my hand in hers.

"Look! See the walls! We are almost home!" Antigonus cried as he charged his mount forward.

"Finally!" I say and the men echo their thanks and finalities.

"Father Zeus was generous to us," Alexander says as he prances by on his black stallion.

The men nod at him and Hephaestion is quick to ride up beside his young prince. "Alexander," he says. "I am happy to be home."

"As we all are, Hephaestion," Alexander says. "It is always a wonderful feeling to return back to Macedon in one piece."

"Perhaps the peace will last a little longer this time," I say. I would dread going off many miles to fight a skirmish over cattle or land. I miss my wife all too much.

"Cassander!" she calls. "Come! Let us go see all the horses."

"Atlifia, Atlifia," I say. "The horses aren't going anywhere." I am busily brushing my own mount in the stables, shooing flies off his back.

"What if he sells one or gives one away? I want to see them all!"

"Wait a moment, Atlifia," I say. She is giddy with excitement.

She hops from foot to foot.

"Atlifia-!"

She slips and falls. I race over to her, scooping her up in my arms. "Are you injured? Where are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?"

"No, no!" she says, laughing.

I look over her and see nothing looks broken. "Be more careful!" I snap.

"Put me down! Let's go!"

"Are you sure you are not harmed?"

"Yes!" she said, exasperatedly. I look into her annoyed eyes and she tips her chin back so her lips are a few inches from mine.

"Atlifia, I do care about you, silly girl," I say slowly, putting her on my horse and climbing on behind her. "So do not go and kill yourself."

"I plan on living for a long time, Cassander. I am going no where."

"That's right. You do not need to go anywhere. All you will ever need are right here in Macedon, right here in the land, in the water, the skies, and the sun."

"Will you visit me whenever you are not journeying?" she asks as we race off towards the stables on the other side of the palace where the new horses are bred and kept. Atlifia has a sort of obsession with horses, wanting to have her own to ride around. She always wanted what all the other, privileged, boys had, like Alexander, Philotas, Antigonus, Perdicus, Nearcus, Hephaestion, and myself. She wanted to be everything she could not. She knew little about what was proper for a lady, but that could always be taught.

A loud rumble arose from the palace as they rode into the courtyard. "Alexander! Alexander!" Their beloved prince had returned home, safe and sound, his men riding alongside him.

Within moments, the streets were crowded with those to welcome their young group of noble sons home. Everywhere, people swarmed, throwing flowers in the streets. "Welcome home!" they called or "Thank Zeus!"

I was anxious to make my entrance and then to make a hasty exit. I wanted to see her. Atlifia. She could be anywhere and if I looked close enough…

"Cassander! Cassander!"

I looked and saw her, hands waving back and forth above her head, eyes wide and full of tears. "Oh, my Atlifia! Atlifia!" I said, smiling brightly at her, jumping off my horse and running to her, throwing my arms around her, feeling the bulge of her stomach and hearing the pounding of my heart hammering in my ears. "Oh, Atlifia," I said, repeatedly. "I have missed you so much, my wife. My beloved, lovely, precious, wife."

"Any day now," she said, kissing me over and over again. "You're just in time." She pats her enlarged, swollen stomach.

I bend and capture her mouth in mine, my tongue jutting in between her lips, her teeth, and reaching out to caress hers, to claim her. I tilted her head back and drove my tongue deeper into her mouth, wrapping my tongue around hers and drawing her breath into my lungs, holding it until neither of us could breathe, and only then did I give it back.

At twelve years old, her body was just mature enough to bear child. Atlifia.

It had taken all I had, all I owned, to have her.

It was all worth it.