The Murder of a King

To Zeus,Father of Gods,God of Sky and Thunder,Mount Olympus.Greece. Dear Father,I beg in my epistle with a sedate and somber plea that after reading this, you would assist me in my task of justifying the 'sotto - voce' mysterious death of your son, Alexander, which took place nearly 2500 years ago. Nobody till the time being, has ever given it a thought that the one whose death gave rise to the Hellenistic civilization, new culture, literature, and politics, should at least effectuate a  relatively decent cause for his death. I am no Plutarch or Dryden or Aristotle himself to be an epistemologist of Greek lore or legend, but being a simple witted greek mythomaniac, I would create a new path en route to the factors that occasioned his death. A prophecy that foretold the gruesome co

Thebes was a long way from Athens. It was once ruminated as a metropolis of social intercourse and trade. But all of a sudden, after the conquest of Persia, orthodox people denied the rule of Alexander. They kicked over the traces and rose in arms against his lately adopted practices which were so unknown to them. They feared that he was doing some crime by changing cults and forsaking their so ancient religious values. Chaos reigned freely driving its wild horses among unruly mobs pillaging and slaughtering without restraint. Thebes wanted to become free from the shackles of the united empire of the young Macedonian prince. In this formidable ambiance, the three young people galloped towards the chaotic city. 

The journey to the lair of the Krakens was long and tedious. They passed many hills and valleys, barren lands, roads flanked by forests on both sides, and villages. At last, they reached a valley, with a very narrow pass where they had to snake through it. After crossing the pass, they found themselves on a wide-open ground with forest in the far backdrop.  Little straw huts were scattered everywhere. Women were tending fires in front of each house. Upon each fire was boiling little pots of porridge. Children were playing and the atmosphere here was different than any other Greek villages they had known. Each woman carried a dagger tied around the waist and each of the children they saw was lithe and strong. They weren’t delicate and childish like

Argus’s heart stopped for a second. He guessed what could have happened. Both of them ran down the stairs towards the place where the shrieking was coming from. It was from the great hall.Karmen laid sprawled on the floor with a knife plunged into his chest. Blood was spilling from the wounds of his chest. Platters of food laid scattered everywhere. It seemed there had been a fight, a hustle maybe. Selene dropped down on the floor beside he

‘Friends! Listen to me’, cried the young man in white blood-stained chiton, whose sister has been forcibly abducted by the prince of this tribe. Everyone had gathered there to listen to what Argus had to say.Argus, along with Selene and a few others stood on a high platform in front of the fort, made especially for announcements and delivering speeches. Fabian has been carried to his chambers for rest and treatment. The corpse of Karm