In Search of Truth: A Hayasdan AAR

[BerkeleyBoi]

Chapter Eleven – To Find the Truth

The roads were filled with refugees as we marched towards Babylon, but they were not fleeing from us. They cheered as they passed by, with little gifts shoved into our hands. The children ran around our army, waving poorly made banners of the New Persian Empire, while old men bowed from the side of the road. We could not understand what was happening, for we have slaughtered thousands of peasants since we first began our campaign, but at least, truth has reached our years.

Babylon for ages was in the hands of a kind Seleucid governor who tolerated all people within the ancient city. Even as Seleukeia was being built to replace it, the old man still acted as if he still stood at the center of the world and the people within it were gods among men. That all changed when our armies smashed the Seleucid Empire into dust.

The Ptolemies took advantage of their old rival’s weakness and snatched Babylon away from the old governor, displaying his tortured body for weeks at the old blue gates. The people suffered tremendously under the rule of a cruel new governor and now they fled for our lands, hoping that we would be more merciful.

But we were soldiers of war, not peace. We brought only death and suffering to others while enriching ourselves. I had no delusions about that, yet I have grown numb to killing. It has all become routine to me now that there was nothing left to fear. I have grown to love only my comrades and the Persians we trained long ago. When we are in battle together, we are like one mind, one body with only one purpose: to kill all who stand against us.

Siege was laid upon the city of Babylon. There is little to speak of. The enemy was weak and we crushed. We piled their corpses within the ancient Hanging Gardens and slit their throats to water the plants with blood.

Arbela was our next target and it went with barely a fight as the remaining Seleucid mercenaries deserted their young general.

Finally, we marched for Edessa. Our general told us that after the city was taken, we would finally be released from our service with great honor and reward.

There were forty of us left in our unit and a little over a hundred Greeks including the Thureophoroi. As we sat in our camp, we talked of our home, trying to remember the greatness of us Greeks, the heroics of our ancestors, the glory of our land, but there was nothing. All we remembered was the cowardliness of our fathers, the pompous lies of our great history, and mostly, the poverty under which we struggled. Only our shell remained Greek, our hearts, our minds, our blood, our souls have become the same as that of our Persian brethren.

And so we drank. We drank to our transformation into true men. We drank to the ancient Persian gods and heroes, we drank to the victories that we ourselves have won, and we drank to our fallen brothers, Greek and Persian, who have died so that we may live.

But most of all, we drank to truth. We drank to the truth that war is killing, that empires are built on the bones of the innocent, that we are nothing but tools to empower our betters. We drank to the truth that greatness is not a birthright, the truth that honor must be earned, and the truth that we have earned it.

We expected another easy battle, for the enemy to flee before we could meet them in battle, but this time, it was different. It seemed all that was left of the Seleucid Empire had gathered to face us one last time. Which is quite fitting for our last battle, for after all the suffering the Seleucids have inflicted upon us, it would have been a pity if they disappeared with barely a whimper.