Author's Note:

Hey, this is a monologue based on the character of Alexander the Great. I wrote and performed for my creative writing class. I actually got an A for it :D

I would really appreciate it if you reviewed!

Enjoy! :D

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Eternity's End

A monologue based on the character of Alexander the Great, from the novel "Alexander: The Ends of the Earth", by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

By Nancy A.

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They say the dream is the infinite shadow of the real, the reflection and echo within us of the gods who created us. For it is they who put dreams in the hearts of men. . . dreams, desires, aspirations, those that are often inescapable, impossible to deny for they are forever consuming upon the soul. There is but one dream for each man, one destiny that he is set to pursue. . . and mine has always been one of warfare and glory.

I was a child of five years when I first ran away from my father's palace. . . I had wanted to go to the mountains of the gods. I never got there, but since then I have always wanted to know what lies beyond the other side. . . of what you may ask? It is indefinite. . . of anything and everything I suppose; the dusk and the dawn, the mountains and the deserts, the light and the darkness. I used to complain of my father's conquest, I feared that there would be nothing left for me to conquer. I wanted not to inherit riches and power but to earn them myself. . . I still want this, I dream of going beyond and conquering all these things. And to do this I can never stop. For this dream that drives me is relentless in its pursuit. I can never end it, for I fear what may come of it if I do. I suppose it is the price one pays for such power and glory.

It has been years now since I've seen home, since I've seen the beautiful lands of Macedon. Sometimes though, on rare and lucky occasions, I dream of home. I dream of the mountains to east, white with the fallen snow, of the lakes, their waters clear and blue, and of the meadows, green and covered with a sea of flowers. I dream of Mieza, where I spent my youth, learning under the teachings of Aristotle. It was a beautiful place, nestled under the shadow of Mount Bermion in the greenest of hollows, run-through with a small stream and bordered by woods of oak. . .

But no, I cannot always remember, for when they are not in my dreams my memory trembles to recollect the past. I have almost lost all thoughts of my youth, almost forgotten that I ever was a child, that I had a father, a mother. I think of them often, but it's as though they are distant images, like things that happened a lifetime ago. It is seldom when battle and bloodshed do not darken the memory, and the fires of war are so intense it makes each hour seem like a year.

In this lifetime alone I have seen things both terrible and wondrous. . . things such as Persepolis, the most beautiful city in the world. Its great Persian palace, the apadana is beyond imaginable; decorated by gold, silver and thousands of precious stones, surrounded by exotic gardens of soaring cypresses and silver poplars. . . such beauty and wonder. . . razed to the ground, burnt to naught but dust and ash. . . I remember it clearly, for things as dark and terrible as that do not leave the human mind, but rather imprints itself in eternal memory. I remember my men, the soldiers that served so valiantly and courageously at battles past. . . possessed by the demons of greed and bloodlust. They became a horde of beasts, fighting like dogs for the last scrap of prey left in the streets, setting ablaze the gardens and palaces and devastating the sanctuaries of Ahura Mazda, great god of Persepolis. In the end, what we had worked so hard to conquer was destroyed. . . by my own command.

But that is not what frightens me the most, no, not the fact that I had condemned the city to be razed with its inhabitants slaughtered and enslaved, but rather because I felt no remorse in doing so. I saw it as merely another strategy, another plan, perfect from the political, military and ideological point of view. Perfect for warfare.

And when I had defeated Darius, King of Persia, I felt an irony in life itself. For after he fled the battle of Gaugamela, into the Zangros mountains of Media, I pursued him only to find his body, bloodied and lifeless, murdered by his own men. . . the King of Kings, Lord of the four corners of the earth. . . tied up and killed like common slave.

I suppose it is war that does this to a man, even if he never was such a man. Blood and battle often harden the soul and scorch the heart. . . I have felt it. My father once told said, "Alexander, Alexander, you see the glory, but war is above all else horror. It is blood, sweat, excrement; it is dust and mud; it is thirst and hunger, unbearable frost and unbearable heat." (extract from Alexander: Child of a dream, p.139)

And as I looked upon my men, at their faces, dirtied and worn over the years of battle, I feel their suffering bear down upon myself. . . and I finally know now the meaning of Philip's words.

Many have ask me why I pursue this dream. They ask if I feel I will find true happiness in this expedition, in this life of war and battle, if I will find peace and content in spilling blood and conquering more lands, more cities, more riches. . . The truth is. . . I do not know. For the answer, like the destiny that the gods lay before a man's path is veiled in shadow.

But I know this; as one bears the scars of war, always will there be the crowns of glory and power to seize. And it is these crowns, that are worth everything I possess; youth, war. . . life itself. For whilst the defeated sink into oblivion, the victors will never be forgotten. And so to surpass the limits of time and all those who came before me is the dream itself. The dream that I cannot escape, that continues to haunt me through long, silent nights. . . The dream that I cannot relinquish. And though I am tired and pained with sorrows no mortal should have to endure, for I have lost so many I grew to love. . . I cannot stop until I reach the farthest corners of the lands. . . the ends of the earth. . . forever, until death itself conquers me.

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