Title: "Letters"

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 7, "Bessus and Aristotle"

H/N: In 329 BC, Alexander captured Bessus. For those of you that do not know (just incase, you never know who reads these I guess) Bessus betray Darius and killed him. That is a very watered down version, but that was it. Because he was so low, Alexander decided to torture him in a very interesting way. He tied Bessus' limbs to two separate trees that were stretched together. He then cut the bonds, and the trees pulled apart, tearing Bessus limb from limb. That is what Hephaestion writes about in the first letter below.

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Alexander, Summer, 329

Do you ever find it hard to sleep at night as I do?

I know what we do in battle. We kill because if we do not kill, then we will be killed. It is only the way of things. I kill for you because you are my king. I would kill for you if you asked me to outside of a battle I believe too. However, it still haunts me at times.

Sometimes when I sleep I see those that I have killed. I want it to leave my mind but I know why it does not. If it were to leave, then we would never remember it would we? Tonight was worse. I thought of Bessus tonight as you slept beside me. I am not sure how I did not wake you, for when I opened my eyes it was clear that I had thrashed around quite a bit. I suppose it was the wine you drank. Overall, I am glad that you did not wake. Never would I tell you that I am this weak.

Bessus deserved the fate of death. I do not argue that because to do so would mean that all killers and betrayers should be freed. That is almost every criminal to walk the lands. However, maybe you were too harsh. Or perhaps I should not have watched his execution.

Will I ever sleep again? I wonder as I write this. I cannot imagine not being able to sleep an entire night. However, you do not stir. Should I not stir as well? Alexander, why do the gods curse me as they do? They gift me you, and I can never truly have you. They give me the strength to give you everything that you want from me as a general. However, then to spite me, they make me weak so that I cannot live with what I have done.

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Alexander,

I am beginning to think that Jaxartes is where our favor stops. There are no elements helping us now. The gods have even turned away from the armies. What is this place?

Alexander, for the first time, I think that I do not want to fight.

When can we go back?

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Alexander,

Again the men ask me when we can go back. They tell me to speak with you because they know that I can help influence you. I told them that I would. Yet I have not brought it up. None of the times that I have said I would have I done so. It makes me a liar to them, if they found out I suppose, but I do not care. I cannot make you go back. I see how badly you want to go forward and I cannot tell you that we should not go further.

It would be wise. It would be the right thing to do. You should do as many suggest and strengthen Babylon. From there you can rule what you already have. But again, how can I crush your dreams?

For what other dreams do you have Alexander, if not these?

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"You," Alexander whispered as he stared down at the page. "I dreamt of you Hephaestion."

He shut the book, for he could not bear to go on further. He sat for a moment thinking of nothing. He did nothing. He just ceased to exist. Then he stood and went to his door. He pulled it open and saw a young page walking down the hallway. He called out and the young boy stopped. His eyes grew wise and he tried to prostrate himself before Alexander.

"No," Alexander said quickly. "There is no need to do that now. It is late. You should be sleeping. Would you do me a favor though?"

"Of course my lord Alexander!"

"Get me a scribe," he ordered. His voice was still firm. He was still the king. The page nodded and scurried off. Alexander was not in the mood to write by himself. Usually when he was not in the mood he would dictate letters to Hephaestion. However, he could no longer do that. Only when he entered his room did he think of something else.

"Wait," he said as he reentered the hall. The page was luckily still in range and heard him. He slid to a stop and then turned. It was clear that he was frightened. Alexander supposed that he should not have yelled. When he gave a new order, the page nodded, then ran off once more. This time Alexander could not call him back.

"Get me Cassander instead!"

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"Write down what I say," the king said as Cassander sat down. Cassander picked up a pen and twirled it for a moment. He hated writing. It was not a gift that he had. He supposed that he would be able to write what Alexander spoke. Yet even doing that was nothing great.

"Aristotle," Alexander began. Cassander wrote the name. No, it was not that bad, not yet. But then Alexander continued and the pain began.

"Aristotle, my dearest teacher in all things, I have now learned the lesson you said you hoped I never would. I understand what it is like now to see life through hollow eyes. By now I am sure that you have already heard of Hephaestion's death. As you know, his death surely means my death as well.

"I know what loss is now, not like that of my father or my men, but instead of the only thing in the world that I have ever lover. What I failed to realize that I know now is that I was not guaranteed his love. He gave it to me freely and I took it and did not give my own back in turn. I believed what I did was good enough. Such a lesson you never told me how to handle.

"While I am not in Ecbatana I wish to be in Pella, years ago. That is where the hollows in the eyes of men come and I understand your teachings now. We both know that Hephaestion listened far better than I. Aristotle, you taught me so much, and I feel that now I must give you something back. I shall tell you something that you should tell all youth that you come across.

"My message, my teaching, is simple. If you love something, then do not shadow it in your heart. You must let it grow in the light of the sun as if it is a rose, for shadows only kill. It is when you have nothing that you realize you before had the greatest possession of them all.

"Due to Hephaestion's death I am hollow. I do not believe that I shall be able to go long without him. I feel life slipping away from me as you said Achilles did after the death of Patroclaus. My friend, should I never return to tell you how much I appreciated you, know that I did. Know also that I found the faith you told me to look for. Know, above all, that there are no great men. I myself and not great. For imperfection lines us all. Definition comes only from what you have done in your life, but definition only comes from love, and I fear I did not love enough in my life. I should have conquered my heart before I tried to conquer the world."

Silence again. Cassander was not sure what to say. He wrote the letter out and then stared at the drying ink. There was nothing he could say to such a letter.

"Have it sent out," Alexander said. "It will be the last task I give you."

"Alexander, do not speak like that."

Nothing more was said though. Alexander was silent. Taking his cue to leave Cassander did just that. After doing to he made sure that the letter was given to the best courier that Alexander had working for him. Then, he went back to sleep.