Inside "ALEXEIN," I'm back to rewriting and editing!

Inside "ALEXEIN," I'm back to rewriting and editing!

Back in the world of ALEXEIN! The holiday rush led to some timeline inconsistencies in my initial drafts, and I've been overwhelmed by the need for revisions. But I'm back on track, meticulously proofreading and editing, adding extended scenes to deepen the narrative and characters. My understanding of historical accuracy has grown significantly.

I'm unearthing fascinating details hidden beneath the well-trodden narrative of Alexander the Great's life, revealing surprising connections to his father, Philip II, and his mother, Olympias. As I previously mentioned, Alexander's path to military genius has its roots in his father's formative years as a political hostage in Thebes. There, young Philip witnessed firsthand the legendary Sacred Band of Thebes – the 300, comprised of 150 pairs of male lovers – a military unit unlike any other in the Greek world.

The Sacred Band was the brainchild of generals Pelopidas and Epaminondas, two men who profoundly shaped Philip II's military education. Their strategic brilliance and tactical innovations were passed down to Alexander. Building upon that foundation, Philip further refined and elevated Alexander’s military prowess and that of his young generals, creating a powerful and exceptionally effective fighting force with Alexander at its center.

This detailed exploration of young Philip's time with Pelopidas and Epaminondas is crucial to Volume One of ALEXEIN.

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The decision to educate Philip—a Macedonian prince, a potential enemy—had been a gamble for Pelopidas and Epaminondas. Sent as a political hostage, a price paid by Macedon, he was initially viewed as a possible threat. Yet, they saw something more, something beyond mere political strategy. They chose to impart to Philip the best of their knowledge—the intricacies of Theban military tactics and the subtle art of political maneuvering, shaping narratives, and navigating the treacherous currents of power. He wasn't just a student; he became, in a way, their adopted son, a role neither could ever truly fulfill biologically, a yearning for fatherhood that life had denied them. In Philip, they found not only a worthy pupil, but a reflection of their hopes and dreams, a chance to cultivate the fatherly affection and legacy they had been denied. His presence gave them a sense of purpose that transcended the simple mentor-student dynamic; they poured their knowledge into him, hoping to transmit more than just tactics, conveying the essence of their lives, their commitment to Thebes, and their vision for its future. Pelopidas and Epaminondas saw in him the potential for greatness, a leader worthy of carrying their knowledge forward, of keeping the spirit of the Sacred Band—the very heart of Thebes—alive and burning bright in the changing landscape of Greek history. He was to be the gem that shone forth, carrying their legacy and the fulfillment of their paternal longings into a new era.

The time spent with Philip was a profound experience for both Pelopidas and Epaminondas—a chance to nurture a son neither had ever had, a substitute son who offered them a renewed purpose, a chance to impart the knowledge and experience they had amassed over long years of service to Thebes. They were not simply his teachers; they were, in many ways, his fathers. They guided him toward becoming a great warrior and a skilled general, instilling their mastery of military maneuvers. Pelopidas, the master of political strategy, instilled in him the subtle art of political maneuvering, weaving together military prowess with shrewd political acumen. Epaminondas, a genius of tactical brilliance, shared his unparalleled military insights, forging Philip's understanding of combat strategy and innovation. Their collaboration was legendary, born from a shared commitment to liberating Thebes from Spartan dominance and restoring the city's glory. Their complementary skills—Pelopidas's charisma and diplomacy, coupled with Epaminondas' tactical brilliance—had proven instrumental in Thebes' rise to power.

King Amyntas III, an aging ruler watching the political tides shift and threaten his kingdom, saw in his youngest son, Philip, not a successor but a formidable general. His older sons, Alexander II—heir presumptive—and Perdiccas II, along with Perdiccas's young son, Amyntas IV, all lacked the military acumen their father recognized in Philip. Philip's path to the throne was fraught with obstacles; his older brothers loomed large, their claims to succession undeniable. Amyntas's plan was subtle, even desperate. Sending Philip to Thebes as a political hostage was not a sacrifice but a calculated move. It offered Philip unparalleled access to Theban military expertise, a chance to absorb their sophisticated tactics and cutting-edge technology and forge a great general's skills within his young mind. This strategic decision, born from an intelligent assessment of his sons' strengths and the precarious political climate, aimed to ensure the continuation and expansion of the Macedonian kingdom—a kingdom teetering on the brink of either continued growth or conquest by Athens. It was a gamble—a carefully calculated risk to ensure his legacy was not merely inherited but built through conquest, secured not by succession but by military dominance.

One night, nestled in the warmth of the hearth, a fire casting flickering shadows on the walls of his temporary home, Philip turned to his mentors and surrogate fathers. "How did it begin?" he asked, his voice calm, "The forging of the Sacred Band? That legendary killing machine?"

Pelopidas chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. "We met within the military complex," he recalled, "I was young then, just beginning to grasp the complexities of military and political dynamics. Epaminondas, however… he was already demonstrating his exceptional military brilliance."

Epaminondas nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Our Theban system of rule is unlike yours, Prince Philip," he said, his voice calm and measured. "You have a Basileus, a living god-king, ruling through supreme command. Courtly politics don't challenge his authority. In Thebes, while our kings retain ceremonial roles, they're overshadowed by influential political figures. Kingship here does not hold the absolute authority wielded like your father."

Ever mindful of his lineage, Philip responded, "My divine heritage stems from Heracles, the legendary demi-god hero. Our ancestors established Macedon as his direct bloodline.”

Pelopidas smiled knowingly. “That’s the power of spiritual authority, Prince Philip, a force transcending both military might and political maneuvering. The Greeks are deeply drawn to myths and legends, particularly those involving heroes—demi-gods, sons of Zeus, mortal women, and goddesses and mortal men. Your ancestors, Heracles and Perseus, and the lineage of Achilles all hold power over the hearts and minds of people in a way that mere kings and generals cannot. Our vision for the Sacred Band was rooted in that idea—to embody those legendary heroes, to fight for what we believe in, for our people. The Thebans and other rulers like those in Athens and Sparta are acutely aware of this, though they lack such a divinely sanctioned authority.”

Epaminondas added, "Athens seeks to control Delphi, the oracle, to gain divine confirmation from Pythia, Apollo’s mouthpiece. They seek legitimacy and the spiritual authority your ancestors already possess."

Pelopidas nodded. "Pythia's charisma, her position as Apollo's messenger, her divine authority… that's true power. People don’t just follow or obey; they believe.” The fire crackled, the flames dancing in the shadows, mirroring the complexities of power, faith, and the enduring legacy of real and mythical heroes.

"I understand the dynamics of the Sacred Band," Philip began, his voice hesitant, "but why is it composed exclusively of male lovers? Surely, many warriors—far more than just a few—are attracted to men, but also women."

Epaminondas met his gaze, a quiet intensity in his eyes. "That, my son, is precisely the point."

Philip frowned, his confusion evident. "I'm having difficulty grasping the significance…"

Pelopidas leaned forward, his voice low and intense. "We are a minority, Prince Philip," he said, his gaze meeting Philip's directly. "Societal expectations of marriage and family do not bind us. Men bind us, for better or worse; that's how our gods made us. Human sexuality is fluid, and many men are capable of loving both men and women, but it is our bond of comradeship that is paramount."

Epaminondas nodded. "The norms of family structure—marriage, children, the daily toil of supporting a wife and family—do not define us. We admire those bonds, those family structures, but they do not bind us. You, Prince Philip, are like an adopted son to us—not of blood but forged in the crucible of our shared masculinity and world. It's our battlefield, the endless pursuit of conquest. That’s our way of life, which can make us feel like the legendary heroes we admire, like Heracles or Achilles."

Pelopidas’s voice was rougher, tinged with a hint of shared experience. "Many of us were born to parents who were lost to us by fate or misfortune. We became orphans and were left to find our ways to survive. Entering military service became the most straightforward, simple, but essential choice. We were given food, training, purpose, a roof over our heads, and a life of adventure in exchange for our unwavering loyalty."

Philip shifted uneasily. "To be a warrior… to fight in battle… it’s a life that demands a great risk."

Epaminondas’s gaze sharpened. "Are you afraid, Prince Philip? Afraid to die?"

Philip hesitated, unsure. "I don't know. I've never been in actual battle, never faced death. I don't fully understand what it means, my life or my death..."

Pelopidas reached out, placing a hand on Philip’s shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Have you ever lost someone dear to you, Prince Philip? Someone you loved?”

Philip shook his head. "Not yet. My father and mother are still alive."

Epaminondas's gaze was steady, unwavering. "We all die, Prince Philip, sooner or later. We all journey to Hades' realm. The question isn't if we die but how we live and how we choose to meet our end. Do you want to die with regret? With the burden of unfulfilled ambition? The worry for your family weighing heavily on your soul?" He paused, then took Pelopidas' hand, their fingers intertwining. "We are not afraid to die. When death comes, it comes. But we choose how we live until that moment. We fight for each other, live for each other, and love each other. And when we die on the sacred battlefield, we die together."

Epaminondas squeezed Pelopidas’ hand, then looked back to Philip. "That, Prince Philip, is the heart of the Sacred Band." The fire crackled, its light reflecting in their intense, unwavering eyes.

Epaminondas leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "By the way, Prince Philip," he said, his voice deceptively casual, "we do have women warriors in our army. Though not in the Sacred Band, their contributions to Thebes' military strength are undeniable." Philip's eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly in surprise. He had never considered such a thing—female warriors in a Greek army.

"Women… warriors?" Philip managed his voice barely a whisper. The concept was so foreign, so radically different from the rigid gender roles of his Macedonian society.

Pelopidas, ever the pragmatist, threw back his head and laughed, a hearty, unrestrained sound that surprised Philip. "Some women, my boy, are just as fierce and capable as any man. And some… well, let’s say that I have a particular fondness for the lesbian warriors. There's a fire in their eyes, a raw intensity… undeniably sexy." His words were blunt and direct, starkly contrasting to the more measured pronouncements of Epaminondas.

Epaminondas, however, returned to a more serious tone, his gaze intense and unwavering. "On the battlefield," he said, his voice low and resonant, "gender becomes irrelevant. When a woman is driven by the same fierce passion, the same unwavering loyalty, and the same dedication to glory as the men of the Sacred Band, she transcends the limitations of her sex. The fury they unleash when provoked is breathtaking; they are warriors, pure and simple, not defined by gender. They fight alongside their male comrades, driven by their desire for glory and immortality. They fight for Thebes. They fight for our cause. They become legendary." His words seemed to hang in the air, challenging Philip’s preconceived notions. His eyes are focused and sharp, and his statement carries power and a vision of equality beyond simple societal norms.

The implications of Epaminondas’s words—the idea of women warriors as equals in battle, unconstrained by conventional gender roles—were staggering. Philip pondered the nature of strength, loyalty, and the meaning of combat. This vision of female empowerment and equality was far ahead of its time and radically different from anything he had known in Macedonia. It was a subtle yet powerful challenge to the rigid societal norms of his homeland, a glimpse into a world where warriors were defined not by gender but by unwavering courage and loyalty.

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