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FATHER’S SHADOWS

At a young age, I used to think that my father had left no more land for me to conquer. Eventually I realized how much more there was for me to conquer. The glass was half-empty, not half-full.

Initially when I came into power, I had to sustain my base by ensuring the confederation’s unity. But soon thereafter I shifted my sights abroad. Otherwise, I would have limited myself to a legacy of civil war amongst the Greek city-states.

I set my sights on world conquest and domination. Unlike any other leader of my time, I accomplished it. A few leaders have tried since but failed in the process, ending their lives disgracefully. Some have lost their heads, others been hung by it, some even shamefully took their own lives.

I set my own goals, my own objectives. Despite my father’s impressive résumé, I never fell into the trap of living within his shadow. I stepped out it and cast a net wider than anyone could have imagined possible.

And after one victory on foreign soil, I looked yonder. Mere mortals would have grown complacent before even striking on Persian soil, I wasn’t happy until I crossed into India. Even then, I wept for there were no more worlds for me to conquer.

What drove me wasn’t material gain per se. Unlike many rulers before (and after) my time, I never really cared much for the spoils of war.

I cared about glory, victory and indirectly, respect to the point of admiration. For example, I would rush to sit in Darius’ throne under its golden canopy because of its symbolism, but would otherwise shun other hollow material objects.

I longed for more; I yearned to win. I was not only competing with myself, I was racing against time. In fact, I sought to transcend it. It was this same race that arguably robbed me of time. I succumbed at the age of thirty-two, one month shy of my thirty-third birthday.

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