Title: "Letters"

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 12, "Nearchus, Craterus, and Carmania"

A/N: Love the reviews, as always. You guys are the reason that I keep writing. Thanks for the dedication. It is always appreciated.

H/N: In 325 Alexander had another big year. For this chapter you need to know that Alexander united his forces in the Indus. He also crushed the Brahman rebellion. Craterus left for Carmania. Alexander later joins Craterus' forces at Carmania. Nearchus makes his own voyage to Gedrosia, where Alexander later meets him. By the end of 325 Alexander takes a short break (a few days really) in Carmania, and then advances in January 324 into Persis.

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He was silent as he stared over the balcony and across the land. The answers were not written in the sands. However, he would have liked it to be so. Instead he just stared out at the world he had striven so hard to create. But what was it worth now? There was no one that would appreciate it as much as Hephaestion would have. Even should Roxanne bring him a legitimate son, that son would never understand, not like Hephaestion had. As he stared out, gazing at absolutely nothing in truth, he heard the door open. Cassander entered the room, just in time to watch the sun set, another miracle of nature that he had not seen in ages.

"Let me ask you something," Alexander said as he shifted his weight. Cassander seemed unaware of the movement. He too was looking out at the horizon. He did not see the blur that Alexander saw though. Instead, he saw each detailed landscape and home, even though he claimed the world here meant nothing to him. He claimed it, as Hephaestion had at times, yet clearly it meant something to him or he would have found a way to leave long ago.

"Do you think that Hephaestion was meant to be here?"

"You must be researching the Brahmins," Cassander replied, yet avoided the question, with a slight laugh. He was unsure how to answer such a question. He could form an opinion, yet, he was not sure what Alexander would think of it. Therefore he would rather not say it at all if he had the opportunity.

"Perhaps," answered Alexander with a nod. "But tell me. What do you think? I want to know."

"Say what you really think," Alexander then nodded after a pause. Cassander let the silence sink in during that time. The uprising of the Brahmins was bringing much into question. It was perhaps the first time that Alexander had needed to sit down and research a culture. He actually had seemed to cherish their culture. They had risen up once before, about a year ago, and were trying to do so again. Alexander was here in Ecbatana though, so he was trying to figure out what message to give his remaining forces…or at least he had been. Now he was concerned only with Hephaestion's letters.

"I believe," stated Cassander, "that this life is all that you get. You get one chance to make it in this world. You are living yours, I am living mine, and Hephaestion lived his life to the fullest."

"You do?"

"I believe he was meant for you, and that you were meant for him. That is what I believe he was here for, if the gods –any gods– have a plan for us. He was here for you and you were for him. Hephaestion used his life by giving it to you, and that was how much he loved you."

"Do you think he knew," he began. He then sucked in a breath and tried to swallow the tears that were choking him. "That I loved him just as much?"

"Yes," Cassander whispered. "He waited for you, you know. I do not think he would have lasted so long had it not been for his love for you."

"Don't say that," he pleaded. He did not want to hear the words. It pained him to think that he was the cause of Hephaestion's death. That was not what Cassander was saying. However, that was how he took it.

"He waited," Cassander whispered quietly. Silently he made sure not to look at Alexander as he said the rest. "You and I both knew him, Alexander. Hephaestion was ill, he was always going to be ill. The physicians told you, he told you, I would stake my life that the oracle at Delphi told you the same things the physicians had said. Had it not been in Ecbatana, it would have been here, or Ares forbid on the plains of Arabia. Hephaestion was meant to die. He was cursed at the beginning."

"No," Alexander said as he sunk down on the balcony. Cassander glanced over at him as he slid down against the cold stone. Alexander wrapped his arms around his knees and cried softly, his body shaking at the same time.

"He was ill," Cassander continued. "Or he was poisoned, if you still believe that. Either way, he died. He sat there though, and he waited for you, because that was what he wanted. He wanted you."

There was silence between the two of them. Cassander stared out at nothing now. Anyone could have looked into his eyes and seen that. Instead, he was thinking of something, something that had already come to pass. Silence lingered between them for some time before finally the silence was interrupted with the faintest words ever spoken.

"I was there."

The words drifted to Alexander but he barely heard them. He looked up, tears burning his eyes, and he stared at Cassander. Cassander nodded his head in a slow manner, but was agreeing to nothing. He just nodded for no apparent reason as he bit his lower lip and tried to still his hand from trembling. Alexander was unable to say anything, and Cassander was still staring off into an abyss that never would exist in the mind of another.

"I was there," he finally whispered again. Alexander could see the blood on his lower lip and the strain of his hand, which was pressed firmly against the railing. He was vulnerable, which distressed him beyond anything he had ever come to face, yet it was his vulnerability that caused Alexander to calm. "That morning, there was no one there. It was just him. He didn't want that."

Slowly Alexander pulled himself up. He said nothing, knowing that Cassander had not even noticed. Instead, Cassander was still standing firmly, yet on the inside he was hollow. Alexander continued to stare at him, and in the faint light of the moon, he saw silver streaks upon his cheeks. They were the deepest wound that Cassander had ever been dealt. They were tears of pain.

"I…There was no reason," he softly said, while shaking his head and in between breaths biting his already bleeding lip. "I just walked in…just him…and he…so I sat…and he wrote…and I sat…then you were sent for…and…then I left…you…and he…he…he…he."

He never finished. Instead he just continued to nod his head and let the tears stream down his cheeks. All the while he continued to grip firmly to the railing and tried so ease the pain by biting his lower lip. The lip that Alexander could now see looked like it had been mangled by a savage jungle cat. For a moment Alexander just stood, and watched him nod. Nodding, and then nodding, and Cassander then nodded as he tilted his head so he could look upon Alexander. He nodded, and said 'he' once more, again not finishing, and Alexander threw his arms around him.

"He…," Cassander finally wailed as he clung to Alexander, who clung just as desperately back. For the first time Alexander heard Cassander show an emotion that was completely voided of any anger. Crying, he sobbed, joking on his own tears. Alexander placed a hand on the back of his head, running it soothingly over his soft locks.

"I know," Alexander soothed quietly as he grieved along with him, and then wrapped his arms firmer around Cassander. "I know."

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Alexander,

They are not so very different from us you know –the Brahmans. They believe as we do, just to a different extent. We have our many gods, and they have their many gods, so in that aspect we are the same. The men do not understand them. You I believe are the only one that tries to because you want to. You want to understand them, because that is who you are, the one that will unite all. To unite, you must comprehend. However, your men will never understand them because they will refuse to.

There is simplicity though, Alexander, one that you do not see. You try to delve too deeply. Believe me, I tried doing that at first as well. Yet then I realized something. We are the same not because of what we believe, but because we believe. That is the answer. We believe.

The Brahmans believe in their own religion, one that we may never understand. Yet to them, we believe in gods and such that they shall never comprehend. Nonetheless, we believe in something, something that may never be explained. It is just a hope, a feeling that we have, a belief that no one can take from us. I cannot say that I believe in Krishna, as I know the Brahmans do. Nor can I say that I even find myself believing in Zeus anymore. After all of this I have lost my faith with the gods.

My only faith, a certitude that has never changed, lies with you. I have conviction because you are the realest god to me. You are the god that I may reach out and touch, confide in, and I know that you will always be there. You cannot be assured that Zeus will listen to you when you pray to him. I am sure that Krishna, or the others Brahmin gods, may at times not side with a true believer if they exist at all. The gods are not trusted. They are not faithful. You, no matter what faults you have, are always there.

You are my god Alexander. You are my life, my love, my soul, and I give it all to you freely because I believe in you and what you are trying to accomplish. The men may not want to go on. But I want to go on. If you can look into your heart, and you can assure me that things will go as planned, then I will go. If it comes down to it, you and I can conquer the rest of the world. It will be more difficult, but we could do it. Your dreams are my dreams. Your wishes are my wishes. Our hopes, hearts, souls, and minds are one.

Craterus may go to Carmania. Yet I remain with you. That is all that you have asked of me so that is what I know. Alexander, you will fail at nothing that you do, because you do what is needed, and you do what the gods have willed you to do. I say it often, that the gods have willed you to do this feat you take day by day. Perhaps it is not the gods that deserve the credit anymore. There have been many times I have stopped believing in them. Perhaps now the only man that can take credit for your victories, and for this gallant feats which the world has never seen, and shall never see again –is you. You are the one that strives.

Gods do not bless you. I do not bring you any great luck and neither do the others because you have no luck. This Empire was built on something stronger than luck. It was built on the sweat, the blood, and the complete faith of your visions. There is nothing more great in the world than what you have given it, Alexander. The gods may be on your side, and would be foolish not to be, but you are the one that commands your future. Have faith in yourself Alexander, for I fear that you do not have such faith, the faith that I have found for you.

You are Alexander. That is all that I need to know, and it is all that you need to see to understand anything. The Brahmins are just like us. They choose to believe, whether it be gods, or in those that they cherish and love most in the world. I have put my faith in you Alexander, a faith that can never be destroyed. Now, all you must do, is put that same faith in yourself.

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Alexander took a breath after he finished reading the passage. He then ran a hand through Cassander's hair. Cassander had fallen asleep letters ago. It was a better change though, for he had ceased to stop crying for at least a good half-hour. Now he lay silently sleeping above the blankets of the bed. Alexander had decided not to wake him. Instead, he continued to read, thinking that perhaps in his dreams Cassander could still hear the words.

He continued to read until finally Cassander shifted. He placed a hand over his eyes as he rolled onto his back. Alexander noticed as well that light was not creeping into the room. So he had been reading throughout the night.

"Alexander," Cassander said dryly as he propped himself up on an elbow. He glanced at the book that Alexander had not put down or stopped reading. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and then fell back against the bed. He knew that nothing had happened between them. Yet, if he left the room now and someone saw, everyone would soon presume that they had.

"Good morning," Cassander then said.

"You just woke. How do you know it is a good morning?"

"Well," he said with a yawn, "the sun came up. That is commendable at least. I can still breathe, which means there is air. You're alive and breathing so no one will suspect me of killing you. So, the morning is looking bright enough."

Alexander smiled a little as he turned to another page. For the first time, Cassander had no bitterness in his voice. The sarcasm was still there. Yet, at least he was coming around. However, he rolled off of the bed and straightened his chiton. Running a hand through his hair, in an attempt to make it look presentable, he grabbed the tray he had brought Alexander. For the first time, nearly everything was gone.

"I came to a deep realization last night," Cassander said as he headed to the door.

"What did you realize?"

"For you alone, I realized what Hephaestion meant and how many things I should have said to him, yet never got the chance to. Perhaps I should have insulted him just a fraction of the time less, and said what I meant."

"He knew," Alexander whispered.

"But, if anyone else asks," he said with his back-to-normal sense of sarcasm. "I realized that the line between general and servant really has begun to blur in my involvement."

"Maybe you are both," Alexander responded with a laugh.

"Damn," was all that Cassander muttered. He then left the room as if he had been up for hours. Alexander watched him go, unsure of what to say, if he were able to say anything at all. He then went back to reading.

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Alexander,

You are all that I have ever cared for. We have been to Carmania and again, what you want is yours. You did the oddest thing today. You asked me what I wanted to have from the treasures the men have taken. Do you still not know what I want, Alexander?

I want only you. You are all that I have ever wanted. You are all that I have ever cared for. I love you more than anything in this world. I do not need any worldly possessions. You cannot take them with you when you die. So I need no gold. I need no exotic animals. The only thing that I need is your love. That is all I will be able to take with me when I leave this world.

You saw another oracle in Carmania. You have seen many oracles yet this is the only one that you have forced me to see as well. I did so only because you were so adamant. You told me she was the wisest of them all, this old woman, and so I did as you asked. I saw her. Yet I lied to you when I said there was nothing but good thoughts given to me. There was so much more.

I asked her if you love me. I know that I should not have. I should not be suspicious of your heart, because I know that I am not entitled to it, but I asked. There are things that you need to know I suppose. Things that I could not be told by you. So I asked her, "Does Alexander love me?" She did tell me that at times questions such as those are never good. I felt my heart stop. I couldn't breathe. Yet she told me what I needed to hear.

"Alexander," she said as smoke drifted around the two of us, "is not a man that can love. He recognizes your love for him and returns it the best that he can. Yet he shall never love you in the way that you view love. Love is viewed by all as different. Alexander loves you in the only way that he can. He cherishes you. He would never part with you. So yes, he loves you, even when he at times does not know how to."

I needed to hear that. There were other things that I asked her. Yet she said, at one point, that I did not need to ask her anything. I was nervous. I asked her too many things I already knew the answer to. She just sat there then and stared at me. I tried not to stare too hardly at her, for fear of being rude, yet she began to speak.

"You will be sick," she said quietly to me. I could have told her that. I continue to feel ill, or be ill, on these long journeys. You yourself have told me at times to remain in cities, in palaces where I do not feel at home, in hopes to recover fully. I never could leave you though. "You will be sick again, not like you are now, but sicker. Your heart will ache with the wear of time. There shall be battles where you are injured. In one you will fall, and hard, to a point where you will need help up. Alexander will fall as well in such a battle."

She paused. I never told you that she said all of this. I would like to believe that she was old and senile. If she is right, I do not want to know such things. I curse the idea of going. I should never have seen her. But she went on.

"When you are sick, you will remain sick, and you will not recover. You will be tempted to go yet must wait for him. Your heart will ache eternally if you do not see him before you die. Yet you will die. You will die, and Alexander will grieve, and he too will die. First, he will die inside. Then, he will die months later, before he can go on. His heart will fail him, his dreams will wither away as well, and he will meet you in the life beyond."

"Stop," I can remember whispering. She did not stop though and I think I may have cried. That is a blur now. All I know is that I cannot let this happen. It cannot come to pass.

"Your heart aches now, with words you have not said. You leave them behind though. I sense that about you. You leave the words behind. They will ache with you, those words, until he gets them. He gets them…in your death…and in his own."

"I kill him," I asked her quietly, trembling.

"Alexander has long been dead. He lets go, because of his love for you, but you are not the cause of his demise. You keep him alive now. You shall keep him alive for some time, with what you are planning to leave behind. The gods, of all of the ones I know, they do not bless Alexander."

"They do," I tried to say, but she immediately was speaking again.

"They do not bless him with victories. You know this. They bless you, Hephaestion Amyntor. They bless you with the breath they give you each day, for you have been ill many a times before, and they do not fail you. They bless you with Alexander's love, the only medicine your body needs. They bless you, by keeping you alive, and you are the one that blesses Alexander."

Not much was said after that. I am not sure what to think anymore, Alexander. If I love you, and I do, I should leave now so that this could never come to pass. Yet, I find that I am unable to leave. Whenever I think of it, I see only your face, and know that I cannot. The gods are not gifting me with anything, if those gifts will only lead me to your demise.