Alexander, he may not have been a wise king, but a great conqueror. Alexander, son of Philip II, son of Zeus, son of Dionysus. He spent his entire life following mythical heroes. He is Hercules, carrying torture, exploring the unknown world, and accomplishing great heroic deeds; he is Achilles, he is not fighting for the Greek city-state, he is fighting for the glory of his own son of God, he is proud Brave and fearless. His whole life was under the shadow of a woman. His mother was the mythical Medea, who hated Jason who betrayed his old love after retrieving the Golden Fleece. She controls her son like a sorceress, is ambitious, and casts a shadow over Alexander's brilliance. He had three wives, one mistress, and countless slaves. But his love is only the companion who has accompanied him for life, Hephaistion. They are Achilles and Patroclus. One dies, the other follows. Throughout his short life he followed in the footsteps of God. Go east, go east. The empire he established extended from Greece to Daxia, from the Balkans to Egypt, and the Greek city-states and eastern barbarians all surrendered to the flag of the sixteenth-awn sun of Macedonia. He climbed the Caucasus Mountains where Zeus imprisoned Prometheus, he left eighteen cities with his namesake in the east, and he erected statues in India to declare the conquest of the descendants of the Titans. He died of illness in the Persian Empire, which was destroyed by his own hands, and the luxurious and rich Babylon became the land behind Alexander the Great. He never returned to his hometown of Macedonia. Thirteen years of the empire fell apart, his generals built new kingdoms, and the war of the successors raged in the once glorious land. But nothing matters. He was the Son of God, the man closest to God, and he became one of the mythical heroes he had followed. Like Hercules, he got rid of the mortal body, and like Achilles, he fought and chose freedom over longevity. Glory to Greece.
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