Colossus
Persepolis. From this city King Darius III had governed an empire. He had orchestrated wars. He had controlled a people. He had ruled all, seemingly.
This city was the heart of the Persian Empire, its capitol. The heart of the enemy. It was filled to the brim with gold and riches. Contained within it were innumerable wealthy houses and the royal palace. And of course, within the palace was the royal treasury, famed to be the richest in the world.
Alexander had taken much pleasure in riding through the gates as the new ruler of the city. He had happily handed her over to his men to be plundered. He had gleefully basked in the light reflecting off the expanse of gold and silver in the royal treasury. He sat cheerily in Darius's throne hall (they tell him that Xerxes himself sat there). He had entertained merrily in the fallen king's audience hall.
He had blissfully took revenge for the multitude of atrocities committed against the Greeks by generations of Persian scum.
Now, he looked down on Persepolis. He watched her burn.
Standing on the ramparts of the outer wall, he saw flames engulf the historic palace.
He knew in the moment that he had thrown down the first torch that he was very drunk. But it did not faze him. The happy warmth of an extracted revenge had burned nicely within him.
After the army had marched into the city and he had handed it to his men to loot, he had held games to celebrate his great victory, he gave sacrifices to the almighty gods, and entertained his friends extravagantly.
And this night sitting amongst his Companions, the wine had flowed freely. Alexander had not been sure what to make of it when a some Athenian woman of Ptolemy's had approached him and declared before all that it would be his greatest achievement to burn the palace to the ground, to exterminate in an instant the city that the Persians held most dear.
In an instant, cries were heard to gather torches and start a procession. And so the men had lit their flames and in honor of Dionysus, they had cast their fires throughout the palace, following Alexander in suit.
Now the men stood on the ramparts, grinning like boys who just got away with something wickedly fun, watching their flames engulf the palace of Persian kings.
They called out that this was revenge for the sacrilege committed against the Acropolis of Athens by Xerxes.
They watched the pride of their enemy crumble.
Alexander felt a new kind of power swelling put inside him.
He had not succeeded in smoting his cowardly enemy on the field of battle, but he had decimated him in every other way.
He had entered his capitol, pillaged his people, sat on his throne, held banquets in his hall, and picked through his treasure. His men had died at the hand of a Greek. His women and their children will serve Greeks for generations. And now Alexander had reduced his palace, the shiny epicenter of his empire, to a smoldering pile of ash.
Alexander had taken revenge for his people.
The woman who had been the catalyst for this great ocean of fire before him, Thais, approached once more.
She smiled minutely and said, "You are a true colossus. Your name will echo through the ages."
Quietly as she had come, she turned and left.
Alexander grinned devilishly, his pride getting the best of him.
Colossus.
He was certain that this word would forever be connected with is name.
Never before had there been a colossus such as Alexander of Macedon. And there never will be.
Sure, he had heard much of great kings. He even knew of the Persian ruler Darius I. They called him Darius the Great. The man had brought the use of a money system to Persia. He had developed a complex system of communication and divided up the Persian Empire into the territories it was still sectioned into. He had expanded the empire. And his son, Xerses, was infamous among the Greeks.
And for this they called him Darius the Great.
Alexander sniffed.
He had just brought down everything that this Great had constructed in one fell swoop. He had thoroughly defeated his descendent, taken his city, and destroyed his palace.
Great, indeed.
Alexander's smile broadened. For he knew what true greatness was.
There would only ever be one Great.
There was only one Colossus. One Behemoth. One Leviathan. One Titan.
There was only one Alexander.
And he was Great.
Fin
So this was written very, very quickly. But when the creative juices get flowing theres no holding them back. :)
I know that this is basically Alexander having a big ego and being full of himself...but lets face it, he kinda was.
Anyways, this was was actually inspired by a class that I am taking right now, so broadly named "World Civilizations". And today it talked about the fall of great empires and, specifically, the burning of Persepolis by Alexander. So I was suddenly inspired to hop on to my computer and spew out this little thing. I hope you enjoyed it!
Now you've stuck with me this far, so why not finish it out and review! Por Favor! ;)
xxcrazymacxx