YOUR NAME: Sofie/Sofo
PERSONAL JOURNAL: sochan.dreamwidth.org
EMAIL: sofie.pettersson@gmail.com
AIM: sakuraofrureo
CHARACTERS IN TAXON: Wyatt Cain and Mick St. John
CHARACTER NAME: Bagoas, son of Artembares, son of Araxis, of the old royal tribe Pasargadai. Noble blood, that, yes indeed.
CANON: Mary Renault's The Persian Boy, with a touch of influence from the film Alexander by Oliver Stone. ...said influence mostly extending to visual input, as my brain works better with that for getting a feel for landscapes and architecture and such. Also, Bagoas' PB as it were, works brilliantly for a twenty-something Bagoas.
MEDIA: Historical novel (PB from Alexander)
BIRTHDAY/AGE: 24, birthday unknown. I'll saaaay (throws some dice onto desk) September. 21st. 9/21.
CANON POINT: I'll be bringing Bagoas in at the age of 24, shortly after the death of Alexander the Great, at the end of The Persian Boy. Bagoas has tended to his King's every need for a fortnight, and said his goodbyes while the royal court is abuzz with rumours of regicide. This will provide him with a tiny bit of closure before the massively shocking onslaught of finding himself in a metal chamber full of ghosts.
WHY THIS CHARACTER AND CANON POINT?: Bagoas was my first ever non-OC rp journal. Being a history buff, I'd only absorbed the vaguest of snippets about him by the time I got to see Oliver Stone's massive Hollywood production Alexander. I wanted to love the film for many reasons, and yet, to me, it's sole redeeming feature was Bagoas. He piqued my interest. I did some research, found a handful of accounts of who this eunuch love slave was, and for me, he ticked a fair deal of my character/backstory boxes. He got me thinking, and headcanoning, and placing an order for Mary Renault's The Persian Boy. The rest is history.
When I first played Bagoas, it was in a highly free form, anyone-can-join type of comm. The setting was a hub of worlds and universes and timelines, where literally anyone could bump into anyone else. As such, there was no structure, no framework, no plots aside from those different players plotted together, and in the end it became a bit tedious. He was also much younger when I played him last. I would love to play him somewhere he can't come and go as he pleases, somewhere he'll face not only people from vastly different cultures and worlds, but technology that he has absolutely no frame of reference for.
Another thing that I think would be real neat to play out in Taxon, is the fact that, while Bagoas was groomed to essentially be a Persian equivalent of the Japanese geisha, he's still a baseline human. He may be tough as nails due to his life experiences, but he has no super powers, he breaks easily, is emotional, and there's only so much he can do in a life threatening situation.
I'm looking forward to the difficulties of acclimatizing to Taxon, actually. While Cain and Mick both dealt with Taxon differently from the start, neither one of them had basic tech problems with the setting (and while Gump had lots of initial problems, he never really got to rp a lot of it, but that's neither here nor there). Cain's no stranger to machinery, and Mick loves wi-fi and Tivo and all sorts of stuff.
It would be nice to play a character that has no point of reference for all the alien-esque techno mojos. Or for fast food, or kitchen appliances, or cars or pavement or stop signs or modern social cues. Everything. All of it.
I've long wanted to see regular human beings in Taxon. Real people thrown into extraordinary circumstances. We love super heroes and want more of them, of course we do, but we're also lacking in the non-powered variety. People who are perhaps really good at what they do, but it's still mundane abilities.
He might just be the first of my Taxon pups to actually make something of himself, once he realizes he can.
PROGRAMMED POSSESSION: A kohl set, to provide some base comforts for the vain one. Because why give him what he really wants?
HISTORY: So. Vast, massive background is condensed and still massive. I apologize for that. First, a quote taken straight out of RL history:
“We are told, too, that he was once viewing some contests in singing and dancing, being well heated with wine, and that his favourite, Bagoas, won the prize for song and dance, and then, all in his festal array, passed through the theatre and took his seat by Alexander’s side; at sight of which the Macedonians clapped their hands and loudly bade the king kiss the victor, until at last he threw his arms about him and kissed him tenderly.” Plutarch
Names of note:
Artembares: Bagoas' father, and an upstanding citizen in every way as per the cultural context. He teaches his son about honour, and how to be a warrior with a clear sense of right and wrong.
Vizier Bagoas: Equivalent to a chief of staff and advisor rolled into one: serves King Ochos and his son, as well as Darius III. Suspected of murdering the two kings that came before Darius III by way of tinkering with poisons.
Arses: Oldest son of the late King Ochos, and next in line to the throne. Murdered by Vizier Bagoas.
Oromedon: Kind, charming eunuch at King Darius III's court. He teaches Bagoas everything he needs to know of serving the King as catamite/body servant.
At ten years of age, Bagoas shares his name with the Vizier to the late King Ochos. There is turmoil in the land after the King's suspected murder at the hand of his Vizier, and Bagoas' family home and fort is often visited by court and country lords. On one occasion the visiting lords talk with Bagoas' father of the events:
'So now,' said one of my father's guests, 'the throne comes down by treachery, even though to the lawful heir. Myself, I acquit Arses; I never heard anything against the boy's honour. But his youth will double Bagoas' power; from now on he might as well be King. No eunuch before has climbed so high.'
'Not often,' my father said. 'But sometimes this lust for power will rule them. It is because they will see no sons.' Finding me near him, he took me in his arm. Someone uttered a blessing.
The guest of highest rank, whose land was near Persepolis but who had followed the court to Susa, said, 'We are all agreed that Bagoas shall never rule. But let us see how Arses deals with him. Young though he is, I think the Vizier has reckoned without his host.' (p. 2)
Soon after the news of King Arses' young brothers dying, a messenger comes to Artembares' house with a letter bearing the royal seal. It states the King calls for him, and he must leave soon. In the meantime he fortifies his home to stand against the coming war. He tells Bagoas that soon he will no longer share names with such a monster. 'It is you who will carry it down in honour; you, and the sons of your sons.' (p. 3)
The day before Artembares is set to leave, a party of warriors come to his door, again with a letter bearing the royal seal. Unaware he is being tricked, that the letter is stolen and the real messenger slaughtered, Artembares bids them to come in. The gates were opened and the men rode in. Bagoas watches his family die at the hands of these men - his father's nose and ears cut off, he's dragged into the courtyard while screaming for Bagoas to remember the name Orxines. 'Orxines betrayed us! Orxines, remember the name!' (p. 3)
He is later sold to a captain (the only one of his family to survive, as far as he knows), who wants him gelded.
They say women forget the pain of childbirth. Well, they are in nature's hand. No hand took mine. I was a body of pain in an earth and sky of darkness. It will take death to make me forget. (p. 5)
Bagoas is soon sold on to a jeweller merchant, still at the age of ten, to tend the merchant's harem. There he finds out that the next in line to the throne is heir only through side descent, by the name Darius. Meanwhile, there's trouble stirring in the west. North of the Greeks, barbarians of a tribe called Macedonians come to pillage and plunder, and to wage war. They're immediately discounted as a threat to the Persian empire, as the sole heir to King Phillip is just a boy. Time passes, and in summertime, the head eunuch brings exciting news: Bagoas the Vizier is dead, after King Darius saw through his attempt to poison his wine, and made the Vizier drink from his own cup as a 'token of honour'.
In Bagoas' third year at the jeweller's house, King Darius goes to war against the young King of Macedon. As was Persian custom, the King took his royal court with him, along with his army, leaving the jeweller without customers. So in Susa, Bagoas says on page 10, only such people were buying jewellery as are content with chippings stuck in clay. Food becomes scarce due to the jeweller's decrease in business, and he can no longer give his wife pretty things. He sends Bagoas to various clients in the district, all of whom pay handsomely for the company of a beautiful boy. At first it's just the one client, but soon his friends and acquaintances all come wanting Bagoas' favours. Before long, Bagoas has twenty regular clients, a lot of whom abuse him (...apart from the sexual assault of a thirteen-year-old, I mean. They hit and degrade and harm him for fun). And then one day, to use a well worn phrase denoting auspicious twists in the story, Bagoas is sold, though he isn't aware for a while yet that King Darius is his new owner. First, his eunuch teacher tells him, he must be fit for his new master's household.
Some time after Bagoas is introduced and made part of the royal Household, King Darius recognizes him as the son of one of his allies. The King makes it clear that he is not merely a love slave, but a favourite set apart from all the others. He is given a new room, and a servant.
When Bagoas turns fifteen, King Darius has suffered two losses in battle against the Macedonian king. They flee their camp at Babylon, heading west for Media, knowing Alexander has reclaimed Egypt and received open arms for it. Twice King Darius had fled the King of Macedonia. The third time, he wouldn't get the chance.
King Darius is betrayed by his two most trusted generals (his cousin and his Queen's brother), and dies as a captured bargaining chip against Alexander. Bagoas' fate could have been sealed right then and there, but instead he escapes. All around him, the countryside is rife with bandits and warriors much like those who killed his family and stole him like some kind of thoroughbred horse. He knows the traitors and those still faithful of King Darius are both marching towards the sea. He aims for the Persian column, but finds himself catching up to the Greek mercenaries, the only group who remained fully loyal to Darius. He travels with them for a time, and parts ways when coming close to an encampment in the woods. The Greek believe it's Persian, and Bagoas hopes he isn't walking into a death trap. He knows he's different from the other eunuchs. He's loot.
The camp belongs to one of the traitors, who despite everything treats Bagoas kindly. The general sees him as an asset, a suitable gift to bring a man who has everything. What he's heard of the Macedonian is mostly good. Perplexing, plain weird in some ways, but he seems to 1) take good care of his prisoners of war, and 2) he enjoys the company of pretty young men/boys. Bagoas sees an opportunity that he can't allow to pass him by. He has to play along with the general's scheme, or face death, at best.
He said also, 'When I had my command, I made it my business to learn about Alexander. One should know one's enemy. Among matters of more use, I found his pride extends into the bedchamber. He has never lain either slave or captive. I daresay the first thing he will ask is whether you are free, and have come there willingly.'
'Well,' I answered, 'then I shall know what to tell him.'
At first, being accepted into a Macedonian Household is a shock. No one stands on formality, the servants do a mediocre job at best, and to Bagoas everything seems below standard. Alexander dines like a peasant, sleeps in quarters more fit for a general than a king, and so the list goes on. It takes him a while to acclimate to his new lot in life, his duties different from the rituals of the Persian King. He is the only eunuch, there are no others, because there's no such thing in Macedonia.
When it becomes clear that Alexander has no sexual interest in him, Bagoas despairs for a time. Then he resolves not to be reduced to the lowliest of servants - he'll make himself useful. Indispensable, even. He gets things done, gradually setting himself apart from the Macedonian youths who serve as clerics and such. He becomes gatekeeper of a sort for Persian emissaries, giving each the level of respect in accordance to their status. He interprets Farsi to Greek and vice versa. He learns to read and write Greek. For the first time in too many years, Bagoas isn't only a pretty face. Of course, this stirs up a lot of resentment from the Macedonian youths. They consider him a barbarian, unfit to serve, to be preferred over Alexander's own kinsmen. After a vicious encounter with a few of them, being used for javelin target practice, Bagoas gets a new impression of Alexander, who steps in to help. This is his King, and he shall have him even if it kills him. From there grows lust and greed, then devotion, then affection and love. If it's within his grasp, and Bagoas wants it, he'll take it.
Over the years, he wins approval among the Macedonian warriors, becoming known for his sharp wit and tongue. Others find him too outspoken, too brash for his station. Alexander is the only one who sees him as a person - not a slave or a servant, certainly not as a whore. Bagoas stays with him through battle campaign after campaign, through crippling battle injuries, through assassination attempts one after another, through Alexander's declining mental state and increased paranoia (at one time that paranoia ends with Alexander killing one of his most trusted generals, Kleitos, who served his father before him). Bagoas consoles him as best he can when Hephaistion dies, always there, until the bitter end. Alexander dies at 32 years of age, leaving his vast lands in turmoil.
PSYCHOLOGY/PERSONALITY: Bagoas is, looking back on his life so far, very aware of the dual (multiple?) nature of life. You may be born as one thing, yet portray something completely different as you grow up. He is proud, but also humble. Vain, but grateful for his looks and what luxuries they have afforded him (not merely material wealth, but being fortunate enough to come into King Alexander's good graces thanks to his beauty (and a bit of bold faced concealing the truth). He's stubborn, a touch arrogant, a bit too outspoken to be entirely popular with the other servants and courtiers. He is sweet, soft spoken, possessing of wit and a sense of humour. He began his life as a warrior's son, destined to walk in his father's footsteps - then made into a catamite fit for a king, then set free by another. He's been demoted from eunuch servant to a whore by his first master, he's been referred by one of his clients to the man who purchased him on behalf of King Darius. He's more than conscious of how others perceive him, and isn't above using preconceptions to his advantage. He isn't a master manipulator, but he knows that people play roles in life, and most often see what they want to see. Sometimes he'll let them assume things of him, other times he'll object.
The eunuchs of the Household would travel like the women, in covered carts with cushions; but no one expected this of me. (p. 38)
They meant that unarmed eunuchs taken in war count as women, but with weapons not. [...] There are eunuchs who become women, and those who do not; we are something by ourselves, and must make of it what we can. (p. 38-39)
My song drew to its end. I said to myself, Who am I to judge? What action shall I ever see? He has been a good master; that should be enough for me, who will never be a man. (p. 42)
A recurring theme of the novel is Bagoas' determination to be grateful, despite his misfortune in life. Things are bad, sure, but they could be worse. His life may have taken a very different route than he'd hoped, but he must make do. Not only will he make do with what he has, he'll accept it, make the most of his situation any way he can.
I went up to the walls, and looked to the north, and thought, I am fifteen years old. I would have my manhood, if it had not been taken away. If my father had lived, he would have brought me with him; he never held me back from something I dared to do, not even for my mother. I would be with him now, among our warriors, laughing and making ready to die. That I was born to; this I am. I must make the best I can of it. (p. 54)
One of the major, major events to cast Bagoas' life a different shade of gray is the cold blooded murder of his family and his own abduction. It uprooted him from the safety and comfort of a noble's life. In one fell swoop as it were, he lost the path laid out for him. He lost everything, with no hope of ever recovering it; reduced to the same thing as his namesake, the Vizier. From that moment on, his father's words stay with him, that eunuchs grow hungry for power in the here and now rather than look to future heirs to bring glory to the family name. From that moment on, he looks for somewhere to belong. He needs to be someone.
Then he said, 'I don't think, Gazelle-Eyes, you have very much more to learn.'
His words dismayed me like news unknown before. I clung to him, saying, 'Do you love me? You don't only want to teach me? Will you be sorry when I am gone?'
'Have you learned to break hearts already?' he said. 'I never taught you that.'
'But do you love me?' I had asked it of no one since my mother died. (p. 23)
Bagoas needs affirmation that he's still a human being like some need air, and while his masters aren't directly cruel to him, Alexander is the first in several years to look at him and really see him for who he is. That alone is enough to trigger some definite post traumatic Stockholm syndrome responses.
Bagoas falls in love for the first time in his life - but I'm not entirely sure it is love. Bagoas is a romantic, for sure, but I think part of it stems from his need for validation, his dependency, and the fact that Alexander comes to rely upon him. He needs him. Just by existing, Alexander validates Bagoas' existence. He's incredibly jealous of Hephaistion for being so close to the king, up to and including considering killing him at one point (and equal parts regretting he didn't, and being thankful of the same). Hephaistion isn't just a rival for Alexander's affections, he poses a real threat. Should Alexander tire of Bagoas, he'll be reduced to being one of many servants. He won't be special anymore, and without the King's favour, he'd be at risk of abuse or assault, or worse. After Alexander murders Kleitos in cold blood (what was perceived by Persians as his God-given right as King, but a criminal offense by the Macedonians), he locks himself up in his rooms and doesn't eat or drink or so much as change the bloodied clothes on his back. At one point, Bagoas faces off Hephaistion, who says no one is to enter. "Not even you." (...in Oliver Stone's movie, it's Alexander's wife Roxane who has that chat with Hephaistion. In the novel, she hasn't even met Alex yet). He makes the eunuch promise not to insist, to only come when beckoned. The last thing Alexander needs, according to Hephaistion, are Persian influences. Bagoas notes then, that the one thing separating him from Hephaistion is power.
He went away. He had taken my promise, and given nothing back. I had never craved for power, like some eunuchs do; only for love. Now I understood what power is good for. He had it. If I had had it, someone would have let me in. (p. 226)
Bagoas is vain, and admits he is, recounting an event from his childhood/early youth when he barely caught a glance at himself in the mirror and his mother cautioned him not to be vain. Now, it's become habit. Even though he isn't prized solely for his beauty in Alexander's court, he still wants to look his best. He considers it his duty, in a way, to reflect well on his master. No matter how bitter he may be, he still enjoys being pretty. He loves pretty things, and splendour and all the fineries of life. He can't help it. He has the 'true Persian looks', and takes pride in it. He comes from a noble bloodline, and takes pride in that as well.
Another thing he owns to is his kind's predilection for curiosity and eaves dropping and gossiping. He says he makes no pretense of it... But while Narrator!Bagoas is somewhere in his forties, I'd guesstimate, Bagoas as recounted is everything between ten and twenty-something. And he is a sneaky little bugger. Back then, he had to pretend not to be a big snoop, or someone would have made him think better of it and stop being so goddamn nosy. Soooo, he's not exactly humble. At least in his forties, he hasn't lost his pride.
So. To sum it up: Needs affirmation. Vain. Slightly arrogant. Bitter-but-in-denial. Stockholm syndrome (which he presents in both kings' employ). Resourceful. Nosy.
Physical strengths/weaknesses:
* Bagoas is a eunuch. Here's a quote on what that means in a historical context (taken from wikipedia):
"Castration was typically carried out on the soon-to-be eunuch without his consent in order that he might perform a specific social function; this was common in many societies. The earliest records for intentional castration to produce eunuchs are from the Sumerian city of Lagash in the 21st century BCE.[1][2] Over the millennia since, they have performed a wide variety of functions in many different cultures: courtiers or equivalent domestics, treble singers, religious specialists, government officials, military commanders, and guardians of women or harem servants."
* One of the side effects of castration, especially if carried out before the boy has reached puberty, is the way it affects the skeleton. The limbs grow elongated, the rib cage extended - which is one of the secrets to why what's commonly known as castrati singers had such otherworldly voices. For Bagoas, I am going with long graceful limbs and a propensity towards osteoporosis (another side effect that castrated men (and transpeople) have to face). No one knew about calcium or vitamin D back in those days.
* Heart condition. Being castrated, Bagoas is at greater risk for coronary "events" than your average guy his age. What a difference a testosterone deficiency makes, alas. (Neither this nor the above physical weakness is canon, as such. But it is science, and I'm including it for the purpose of giving him a few physical weaknesses despite his body and looks being his only (both self proclaimed and by others) asset). Sometimes, if a shock is too great, he'll simply sag to the floor in a dead faint. And of course, be humiliated for it. He doesn't do so in the novel, but then he was never quite so cruelly ripped from everything he's come to know as his world.
* He's in good shape, but will have to deal with a few symptoms on a daily basis. Back when I played him last, I even compiled a list of physical/cognitive consequences of male castration. http://thepersianyouth.livejournal.com/594.html. Some of the symptoms contradict each other, others I find a teeny touch questionable, but nonetheless I'll be keeping it in mind when playing Bagoas.
* He is pretty. Long black hair that once shimmered like copper in the sun, now dyed (using indigo mixed with henna) for a bluer tint. At one point dubbed Gazelle-Eyes by Oromedon. He was gelded, but skillfully so, leaving a clean scar that healed with little trouble. He's not too tall, but keeps physically fit both to please his master (initially King Darius), and because of his vanity. He doesn't want to end up like some of the older eunuchs - fat, bald, and with breasts.
It was then that I learned to dance.
As a child I had liked it, following the men, or prancing and spinning to some tune out of my head. I knew, if I were taught, I still had it in me. The King was glad for me to learn accomplishments and hired me the best master in the city. It was not like my infant games; one had to train as hard as a soldier; but this I welcomed. It is idling makes eunuchs flabby; standing about, gossiping, waiting for something to do. It was good to get in a sweat and stir my blood.
* He has a dancer's physique and stamina, somewhere between the slim build and narrow waist of a woman, and the angular shoulders and ribcage of a man.
* He's just human, and breaks easily. He could defend himself in a fight, even kill if cornered (which he does after Darius' capture, when being assaulted by a not so helpful Greek mercenary - stabs him in a mix of self defense/victim's past trauma coming back to haunt him. And then stabs him again, taking out the abuse of the twenty odd men the jeweller merchant 'lent' him to). He knows how to use a bow and arrow, but, again, not very useful here.
POWERS/ABILITIES:
* Bagoas has received training in the arts of servitude, up to and including how to sexually please a man. He has ten-eleven years of practical experience, as he stayed on in Alexander's court as a servant. He can dance and sing, play the lute, and outdo any woman in grace (and beauty, if his looks strike your fancy). Again, I'll go with a Japanese comparison: While the geisha were mysterious and their services in high demand, it took years of training to become a true geisha. You had to learn dancing, singing, to play an instrument, calligraphy, the tea ceremony, you had to be eloquent and demure and something seemingly unattainable. The geisha weren't technically prostitutes in the contemporary sense of the word, and neither were the eunuchs necessarily love slaves. They could be servants, attendants, body guards, chamberlains, entertainers - or several of the above. Only those who were most skilled in several areas were ever fit to serve in a noble household. Beauty played a big part in it, but that was just the beginning. In Bagoas' case, his beauty is his ticket into Darius' court, and subsequently his one way ticket into Alexander's entourage.
(If push comes to shove, Bagoas might try to use his subservience and Pretty to get him out of trouble - not out of malice or some sort of manipulative streak, but because his currency is his trade, and his trade is services rendered in exchange for shelter or whathaveyou. He'll use his "womanly wiles" if he has to, because he has had no other options for his entire adult life.
At this point, he isn't above offering himself on a platter to someone he perceives as in power. The only thing he has of any value is himself and his body - and it's not as though he hasn't done the exact same thing before. He'd rather be the one initiating a transaction, as it were, rather than have someone else treat him as a commodity to be sold. It would let him feel a bit more in control, though it's a fine line indeed.)
* He speaks Greek from his eight-or-there-abouts years with Alexander and his Macedonians and Greeks. His native language is Farsi.
ADDITIONAL SAMPLE:
Ptolemy, who came to rule the Alexandria of Egypt after Alexander's death; also the final destination for his bier and myself; was some twenty years my elder, and had become prone to wandering the great halls at night. On one such night, neither one of us could find rest. I found him in his study, which was more than one would think from the term. It was a hall of giants, with great marble pillars and bookcases that groaned under the weight of tome after tome, seeming one and all to reach for the heavens. I remembered him as an imposing man from his height alone, but with age his spine had begun to bend like the wilting stem of a flower in a vase. Sometimes I wondered what held him, that he shouldn't fall; the vase to his flower; but to this day I never learned his secret. He had seen so much of battle. It was his right to grow old and bent out of shape.
I found him sitting in a slump on the floor, parchment and scrolls arranged about him. He was mumbling to himself, his wrinkled old hands moving from parchment to parchment, from one scroll to the next. I joined him then, coming to stand behind and to the left of him. He always seemed aware of me, even in a room full of clerics and squires, he could always single me out.
"Bagoas," he said, one of his hands hovering in the air between us. To keep my distance, or to beckon me closer, I could not tell. His mind was going; some would deem it a small price for such riches as he had surrounded himself with.
"Yes, I am here," said I. He looked at me then, with eyes that were once bright with knowledge. They still were, but their colour had faded with age.
"Bagoas... Beautiful boy. Oh, how we underestimated you."
I kneeled beside him, offering a small smile. This was more consideration than he had ever given me when Alexander was alive. Back then, he had felt as many of his Macedonian brothers did; that they were superior, and Persia a land of simpering, sycophantic barbarians. There was a time he thought my mere presence a disgrace. But that was a long time ago, and I cared very little for dwelling. At once he grasped my hand, pressing to his cheek the signet ring Alexander had gifted me that cold winter in the Valley of the Benefactors, for all the birthdays I had lost. "Ever loyal. Ever faithful. More willing than any Macedonian to follow him into death, to actually follow him where ever he would lead."
"Yes," I answered him, closing my fingers around his spotted hand. He was but a shadow of himself, and I had been taught to always look to the Light, not the Lie. I was a boy no longer, but still I felt a faint touch of pride to be called beautiful. "It is late, and you are an old man who should find his rest in the comfort of his bed."
Ptolemy shook his head; my hand remained. "Rest!" He scoffed. "How can I rest when I know my successor?" He spoke of his son, who would be a very different ruler from his father. It did not bode well for Alexandria, nor its people. Nor, as it seemed, for me.
"If he is half as thoughtful in your absence, half as just, he shall do you proud. One can ask no more," I told him, knowing he needed to hear it, though not strictly true. His son coveted the throne too hotly, and already there were signs of him enjoying overmuch the taste of power. He knew this as well as I. If his son ever reached half as high as he, we would all consider ourselves fortunate. Where Ptolemy had erred in his youth, he had learned from it. He had made amends, even with me. The same could not be said for his son, who could still be called young.
"Come now, Ptolemy, the night grows weary of such brooding," I said, making to raise myself and take him with me. With a sigh, he struggled to his feet. I took his arm, his hand in mine, and led him towards his bedchamber. Halfway there, he turned to me, asking if I knew what Ptolemaios meant. It means aggressive, war-like. Sotïr means saviour, which was his chosen name as King. I simply said, "Will you tell me?"
A light went on behind his eyes. He smiled, and once again told me the story, which I had heard many times before, of how he came to be called a warrior even from birth, and how he had chosen instead to become its opposite, and now dedicated his remaining life to write the true story of the Great King. He was happy to tell me.
I was happy to listen.
PERSONAL JOURNAL: sochan.dreamwidth.org
EMAIL: sofie.pettersson@gmail.com
AIM: sakuraofrureo
CHARACTERS IN TAXON: Wyatt Cain and Mick St. John
CHARACTER NAME: Bagoas, son of Artembares, son of Araxis, of the old royal tribe Pasargadai. Noble blood, that, yes indeed.
CANON: Mary Renault's The Persian Boy, with a touch of influence from the film Alexander by Oliver Stone. ...said influence mostly extending to visual input, as my brain works better with that for getting a feel for landscapes and architecture and such. Also, Bagoas' PB as it were, works brilliantly for a twenty-something Bagoas.
MEDIA: Historical novel (PB from Alexander)
BIRTHDAY/AGE: 24, birthday unknown. I'll saaaay (throws some dice onto desk) September. 21st. 9/21.
CANON POINT: I'll be bringing Bagoas in at the age of 24, shortly after the death of Alexander the Great, at the end of The Persian Boy. Bagoas has tended to his King's every need for a fortnight, and said his goodbyes while the royal court is abuzz with rumours of regicide. This will provide him with a tiny bit of closure before the massively shocking onslaught of finding himself in a metal chamber full of ghosts.
WHY THIS CHARACTER AND CANON POINT?: Bagoas was my first ever non-OC rp journal. Being a history buff, I'd only absorbed the vaguest of snippets about him by the time I got to see Oliver Stone's massive Hollywood production Alexander. I wanted to love the film for many reasons, and yet, to me, it's sole redeeming feature was Bagoas. He piqued my interest. I did some research, found a handful of accounts of who this eunuch love slave was, and for me, he ticked a fair deal of my character/backstory boxes. He got me thinking, and headcanoning, and placing an order for Mary Renault's The Persian Boy. The rest is history.
When I first played Bagoas, it was in a highly free form, anyone-can-join type of comm. The setting was a hub of worlds and universes and timelines, where literally anyone could bump into anyone else. As such, there was no structure, no framework, no plots aside from those different players plotted together, and in the end it became a bit tedious. He was also much younger when I played him last. I would love to play him somewhere he can't come and go as he pleases, somewhere he'll face not only people from vastly different cultures and worlds, but technology that he has absolutely no frame of reference for.
Another thing that I think would be real neat to play out in Taxon, is the fact that, while Bagoas was groomed to essentially be a Persian equivalent of the Japanese geisha, he's still a baseline human. He may be tough as nails due to his life experiences, but he has no super powers, he breaks easily, is emotional, and there's only so much he can do in a life threatening situation.
I'm looking forward to the difficulties of acclimatizing to Taxon, actually. While Cain and Mick both dealt with Taxon differently from the start, neither one of them had basic tech problems with the setting (and while Gump had lots of initial problems, he never really got to rp a lot of it, but that's neither here nor there). Cain's no stranger to machinery, and Mick loves wi-fi and Tivo and all sorts of stuff.
It would be nice to play a character that has no point of reference for all the alien-esque techno mojos. Or for fast food, or kitchen appliances, or cars or pavement or stop signs or modern social cues. Everything. All of it.
I've long wanted to see regular human beings in Taxon. Real people thrown into extraordinary circumstances. We love super heroes and want more of them, of course we do, but we're also lacking in the non-powered variety. People who are perhaps really good at what they do, but it's still mundane abilities.
He might just be the first of my Taxon pups to actually make something of himself, once he realizes he can.
PROGRAMMED POSSESSION: A kohl set, to provide some base comforts for the vain one. Because why give him what he really wants?
HISTORY: So. Vast, massive background is condensed and still massive. I apologize for that. First, a quote taken straight out of RL history:
“We are told, too, that he was once viewing some contests in singing and dancing, being well heated with wine, and that his favourite, Bagoas, won the prize for song and dance, and then, all in his festal array, passed through the theatre and took his seat by Alexander’s side; at sight of which the Macedonians clapped their hands and loudly bade the king kiss the victor, until at last he threw his arms about him and kissed him tenderly.” Plutarch
Names of note:
Artembares: Bagoas' father, and an upstanding citizen in every way as per the cultural context. He teaches his son about honour, and how to be a warrior with a clear sense of right and wrong.
Vizier Bagoas: Equivalent to a chief of staff and advisor rolled into one: serves King Ochos and his son, as well as Darius III. Suspected of murdering the two kings that came before Darius III by way of tinkering with poisons.
Arses: Oldest son of the late King Ochos, and next in line to the throne. Murdered by Vizier Bagoas.
Oromedon: Kind, charming eunuch at King Darius III's court. He teaches Bagoas everything he needs to know of serving the King as catamite/body servant.
At ten years of age, Bagoas shares his name with the Vizier to the late King Ochos. There is turmoil in the land after the King's suspected murder at the hand of his Vizier, and Bagoas' family home and fort is often visited by court and country lords. On one occasion the visiting lords talk with Bagoas' father of the events:
'So now,' said one of my father's guests, 'the throne comes down by treachery, even though to the lawful heir. Myself, I acquit Arses; I never heard anything against the boy's honour. But his youth will double Bagoas' power; from now on he might as well be King. No eunuch before has climbed so high.'
'Not often,' my father said. 'But sometimes this lust for power will rule them. It is because they will see no sons.' Finding me near him, he took me in his arm. Someone uttered a blessing.
The guest of highest rank, whose land was near Persepolis but who had followed the court to Susa, said, 'We are all agreed that Bagoas shall never rule. But let us see how Arses deals with him. Young though he is, I think the Vizier has reckoned without his host.' (p. 2)
Soon after the news of King Arses' young brothers dying, a messenger comes to Artembares' house with a letter bearing the royal seal. It states the King calls for him, and he must leave soon. In the meantime he fortifies his home to stand against the coming war. He tells Bagoas that soon he will no longer share names with such a monster. 'It is you who will carry it down in honour; you, and the sons of your sons.' (p. 3)
The day before Artembares is set to leave, a party of warriors come to his door, again with a letter bearing the royal seal. Unaware he is being tricked, that the letter is stolen and the real messenger slaughtered, Artembares bids them to come in. The gates were opened and the men rode in. Bagoas watches his family die at the hands of these men - his father's nose and ears cut off, he's dragged into the courtyard while screaming for Bagoas to remember the name Orxines. 'Orxines betrayed us! Orxines, remember the name!' (p. 3)
He is later sold to a captain (the only one of his family to survive, as far as he knows), who wants him gelded.
They say women forget the pain of childbirth. Well, they are in nature's hand. No hand took mine. I was a body of pain in an earth and sky of darkness. It will take death to make me forget. (p. 5)
Bagoas is soon sold on to a jeweller merchant, still at the age of ten, to tend the merchant's harem. There he finds out that the next in line to the throne is heir only through side descent, by the name Darius. Meanwhile, there's trouble stirring in the west. North of the Greeks, barbarians of a tribe called Macedonians come to pillage and plunder, and to wage war. They're immediately discounted as a threat to the Persian empire, as the sole heir to King Phillip is just a boy. Time passes, and in summertime, the head eunuch brings exciting news: Bagoas the Vizier is dead, after King Darius saw through his attempt to poison his wine, and made the Vizier drink from his own cup as a 'token of honour'.
In Bagoas' third year at the jeweller's house, King Darius goes to war against the young King of Macedon. As was Persian custom, the King took his royal court with him, along with his army, leaving the jeweller without customers. So in Susa, Bagoas says on page 10, only such people were buying jewellery as are content with chippings stuck in clay. Food becomes scarce due to the jeweller's decrease in business, and he can no longer give his wife pretty things. He sends Bagoas to various clients in the district, all of whom pay handsomely for the company of a beautiful boy. At first it's just the one client, but soon his friends and acquaintances all come wanting Bagoas' favours. Before long, Bagoas has twenty regular clients, a lot of whom abuse him (...apart from the sexual assault of a thirteen-year-old, I mean. They hit and degrade and harm him for fun). And then one day, to use a well worn phrase denoting auspicious twists in the story, Bagoas is sold, though he isn't aware for a while yet that King Darius is his new owner. First, his eunuch teacher tells him, he must be fit for his new master's household.
Some time after Bagoas is introduced and made part of the royal Household, King Darius recognizes him as the son of one of his allies. The King makes it clear that he is not merely a love slave, but a favourite set apart from all the others. He is given a new room, and a servant.
When Bagoas turns fifteen, King Darius has suffered two losses in battle against the Macedonian king. They flee their camp at Babylon, heading west for Media, knowing Alexander has reclaimed Egypt and received open arms for it. Twice King Darius had fled the King of Macedonia. The third time, he wouldn't get the chance.
King Darius is betrayed by his two most trusted generals (his cousin and his Queen's brother), and dies as a captured bargaining chip against Alexander. Bagoas' fate could have been sealed right then and there, but instead he escapes. All around him, the countryside is rife with bandits and warriors much like those who killed his family and stole him like some kind of thoroughbred horse. He knows the traitors and those still faithful of King Darius are both marching towards the sea. He aims for the Persian column, but finds himself catching up to the Greek mercenaries, the only group who remained fully loyal to Darius. He travels with them for a time, and parts ways when coming close to an encampment in the woods. The Greek believe it's Persian, and Bagoas hopes he isn't walking into a death trap. He knows he's different from the other eunuchs. He's loot.
The camp belongs to one of the traitors, who despite everything treats Bagoas kindly. The general sees him as an asset, a suitable gift to bring a man who has everything. What he's heard of the Macedonian is mostly good. Perplexing, plain weird in some ways, but he seems to 1) take good care of his prisoners of war, and 2) he enjoys the company of pretty young men/boys. Bagoas sees an opportunity that he can't allow to pass him by. He has to play along with the general's scheme, or face death, at best.
He said also, 'When I had my command, I made it my business to learn about Alexander. One should know one's enemy. Among matters of more use, I found his pride extends into the bedchamber. He has never lain either slave or captive. I daresay the first thing he will ask is whether you are free, and have come there willingly.'
'Well,' I answered, 'then I shall know what to tell him.'
At first, being accepted into a Macedonian Household is a shock. No one stands on formality, the servants do a mediocre job at best, and to Bagoas everything seems below standard. Alexander dines like a peasant, sleeps in quarters more fit for a general than a king, and so the list goes on. It takes him a while to acclimate to his new lot in life, his duties different from the rituals of the Persian King. He is the only eunuch, there are no others, because there's no such thing in Macedonia.
When it becomes clear that Alexander has no sexual interest in him, Bagoas despairs for a time. Then he resolves not to be reduced to the lowliest of servants - he'll make himself useful. Indispensable, even. He gets things done, gradually setting himself apart from the Macedonian youths who serve as clerics and such. He becomes gatekeeper of a sort for Persian emissaries, giving each the level of respect in accordance to their status. He interprets Farsi to Greek and vice versa. He learns to read and write Greek. For the first time in too many years, Bagoas isn't only a pretty face. Of course, this stirs up a lot of resentment from the Macedonian youths. They consider him a barbarian, unfit to serve, to be preferred over Alexander's own kinsmen. After a vicious encounter with a few of them, being used for javelin target practice, Bagoas gets a new impression of Alexander, who steps in to help. This is his King, and he shall have him even if it kills him. From there grows lust and greed, then devotion, then affection and love. If it's within his grasp, and Bagoas wants it, he'll take it.
Over the years, he wins approval among the Macedonian warriors, becoming known for his sharp wit and tongue. Others find him too outspoken, too brash for his station. Alexander is the only one who sees him as a person - not a slave or a servant, certainly not as a whore. Bagoas stays with him through battle campaign after campaign, through crippling battle injuries, through assassination attempts one after another, through Alexander's declining mental state and increased paranoia (at one time that paranoia ends with Alexander killing one of his most trusted generals, Kleitos, who served his father before him). Bagoas consoles him as best he can when Hephaistion dies, always there, until the bitter end. Alexander dies at 32 years of age, leaving his vast lands in turmoil.
PSYCHOLOGY/PERSONALITY: Bagoas is, looking back on his life so far, very aware of the dual (multiple?) nature of life. You may be born as one thing, yet portray something completely different as you grow up. He is proud, but also humble. Vain, but grateful for his looks and what luxuries they have afforded him (not merely material wealth, but being fortunate enough to come into King Alexander's good graces thanks to his beauty (and a bit of bold faced concealing the truth). He's stubborn, a touch arrogant, a bit too outspoken to be entirely popular with the other servants and courtiers. He is sweet, soft spoken, possessing of wit and a sense of humour. He began his life as a warrior's son, destined to walk in his father's footsteps - then made into a catamite fit for a king, then set free by another. He's been demoted from eunuch servant to a whore by his first master, he's been referred by one of his clients to the man who purchased him on behalf of King Darius. He's more than conscious of how others perceive him, and isn't above using preconceptions to his advantage. He isn't a master manipulator, but he knows that people play roles in life, and most often see what they want to see. Sometimes he'll let them assume things of him, other times he'll object.
The eunuchs of the Household would travel like the women, in covered carts with cushions; but no one expected this of me. (p. 38)
They meant that unarmed eunuchs taken in war count as women, but with weapons not. [...] There are eunuchs who become women, and those who do not; we are something by ourselves, and must make of it what we can. (p. 38-39)
My song drew to its end. I said to myself, Who am I to judge? What action shall I ever see? He has been a good master; that should be enough for me, who will never be a man. (p. 42)
A recurring theme of the novel is Bagoas' determination to be grateful, despite his misfortune in life. Things are bad, sure, but they could be worse. His life may have taken a very different route than he'd hoped, but he must make do. Not only will he make do with what he has, he'll accept it, make the most of his situation any way he can.
I went up to the walls, and looked to the north, and thought, I am fifteen years old. I would have my manhood, if it had not been taken away. If my father had lived, he would have brought me with him; he never held me back from something I dared to do, not even for my mother. I would be with him now, among our warriors, laughing and making ready to die. That I was born to; this I am. I must make the best I can of it. (p. 54)
One of the major, major events to cast Bagoas' life a different shade of gray is the cold blooded murder of his family and his own abduction. It uprooted him from the safety and comfort of a noble's life. In one fell swoop as it were, he lost the path laid out for him. He lost everything, with no hope of ever recovering it; reduced to the same thing as his namesake, the Vizier. From that moment on, his father's words stay with him, that eunuchs grow hungry for power in the here and now rather than look to future heirs to bring glory to the family name. From that moment on, he looks for somewhere to belong. He needs to be someone.
Then he said, 'I don't think, Gazelle-Eyes, you have very much more to learn.'
His words dismayed me like news unknown before. I clung to him, saying, 'Do you love me? You don't only want to teach me? Will you be sorry when I am gone?'
'Have you learned to break hearts already?' he said. 'I never taught you that.'
'But do you love me?' I had asked it of no one since my mother died. (p. 23)
Bagoas needs affirmation that he's still a human being like some need air, and while his masters aren't directly cruel to him, Alexander is the first in several years to look at him and really see him for who he is. That alone is enough to trigger some definite post traumatic Stockholm syndrome responses.
Bagoas falls in love for the first time in his life - but I'm not entirely sure it is love. Bagoas is a romantic, for sure, but I think part of it stems from his need for validation, his dependency, and the fact that Alexander comes to rely upon him. He needs him. Just by existing, Alexander validates Bagoas' existence. He's incredibly jealous of Hephaistion for being so close to the king, up to and including considering killing him at one point (and equal parts regretting he didn't, and being thankful of the same). Hephaistion isn't just a rival for Alexander's affections, he poses a real threat. Should Alexander tire of Bagoas, he'll be reduced to being one of many servants. He won't be special anymore, and without the King's favour, he'd be at risk of abuse or assault, or worse. After Alexander murders Kleitos in cold blood (what was perceived by Persians as his God-given right as King, but a criminal offense by the Macedonians), he locks himself up in his rooms and doesn't eat or drink or so much as change the bloodied clothes on his back. At one point, Bagoas faces off Hephaistion, who says no one is to enter. "Not even you." (...in Oliver Stone's movie, it's Alexander's wife Roxane who has that chat with Hephaistion. In the novel, she hasn't even met Alex yet). He makes the eunuch promise not to insist, to only come when beckoned. The last thing Alexander needs, according to Hephaistion, are Persian influences. Bagoas notes then, that the one thing separating him from Hephaistion is power.
He went away. He had taken my promise, and given nothing back. I had never craved for power, like some eunuchs do; only for love. Now I understood what power is good for. He had it. If I had had it, someone would have let me in. (p. 226)
Bagoas is vain, and admits he is, recounting an event from his childhood/early youth when he barely caught a glance at himself in the mirror and his mother cautioned him not to be vain. Now, it's become habit. Even though he isn't prized solely for his beauty in Alexander's court, he still wants to look his best. He considers it his duty, in a way, to reflect well on his master. No matter how bitter he may be, he still enjoys being pretty. He loves pretty things, and splendour and all the fineries of life. He can't help it. He has the 'true Persian looks', and takes pride in it. He comes from a noble bloodline, and takes pride in that as well.
Another thing he owns to is his kind's predilection for curiosity and eaves dropping and gossiping. He says he makes no pretense of it... But while Narrator!Bagoas is somewhere in his forties, I'd guesstimate, Bagoas as recounted is everything between ten and twenty-something. And he is a sneaky little bugger. Back then, he had to pretend not to be a big snoop, or someone would have made him think better of it and stop being so goddamn nosy. Soooo, he's not exactly humble. At least in his forties, he hasn't lost his pride.
So. To sum it up: Needs affirmation. Vain. Slightly arrogant. Bitter-but-in-denial. Stockholm syndrome (which he presents in both kings' employ). Resourceful. Nosy.
Physical strengths/weaknesses:
* Bagoas is a eunuch. Here's a quote on what that means in a historical context (taken from wikipedia):
"Castration was typically carried out on the soon-to-be eunuch without his consent in order that he might perform a specific social function; this was common in many societies. The earliest records for intentional castration to produce eunuchs are from the Sumerian city of Lagash in the 21st century BCE.[1][2] Over the millennia since, they have performed a wide variety of functions in many different cultures: courtiers or equivalent domestics, treble singers, religious specialists, government officials, military commanders, and guardians of women or harem servants."
* One of the side effects of castration, especially if carried out before the boy has reached puberty, is the way it affects the skeleton. The limbs grow elongated, the rib cage extended - which is one of the secrets to why what's commonly known as castrati singers had such otherworldly voices. For Bagoas, I am going with long graceful limbs and a propensity towards osteoporosis (another side effect that castrated men (and transpeople) have to face). No one knew about calcium or vitamin D back in those days.
* Heart condition. Being castrated, Bagoas is at greater risk for coronary "events" than your average guy his age. What a difference a testosterone deficiency makes, alas. (Neither this nor the above physical weakness is canon, as such. But it is science, and I'm including it for the purpose of giving him a few physical weaknesses despite his body and looks being his only (both self proclaimed and by others) asset). Sometimes, if a shock is too great, he'll simply sag to the floor in a dead faint. And of course, be humiliated for it. He doesn't do so in the novel, but then he was never quite so cruelly ripped from everything he's come to know as his world.
* He's in good shape, but will have to deal with a few symptoms on a daily basis. Back when I played him last, I even compiled a list of physical/cognitive consequences of male castration. http://thepersianyouth.livejournal.com/594.html. Some of the symptoms contradict each other, others I find a teeny touch questionable, but nonetheless I'll be keeping it in mind when playing Bagoas.
* He is pretty. Long black hair that once shimmered like copper in the sun, now dyed (using indigo mixed with henna) for a bluer tint. At one point dubbed Gazelle-Eyes by Oromedon. He was gelded, but skillfully so, leaving a clean scar that healed with little trouble. He's not too tall, but keeps physically fit both to please his master (initially King Darius), and because of his vanity. He doesn't want to end up like some of the older eunuchs - fat, bald, and with breasts.
It was then that I learned to dance.
As a child I had liked it, following the men, or prancing and spinning to some tune out of my head. I knew, if I were taught, I still had it in me. The King was glad for me to learn accomplishments and hired me the best master in the city. It was not like my infant games; one had to train as hard as a soldier; but this I welcomed. It is idling makes eunuchs flabby; standing about, gossiping, waiting for something to do. It was good to get in a sweat and stir my blood.
* He has a dancer's physique and stamina, somewhere between the slim build and narrow waist of a woman, and the angular shoulders and ribcage of a man.
* He's just human, and breaks easily. He could defend himself in a fight, even kill if cornered (which he does after Darius' capture, when being assaulted by a not so helpful Greek mercenary - stabs him in a mix of self defense/victim's past trauma coming back to haunt him. And then stabs him again, taking out the abuse of the twenty odd men the jeweller merchant 'lent' him to). He knows how to use a bow and arrow, but, again, not very useful here.
POWERS/ABILITIES:
* Bagoas has received training in the arts of servitude, up to and including how to sexually please a man. He has ten-eleven years of practical experience, as he stayed on in Alexander's court as a servant. He can dance and sing, play the lute, and outdo any woman in grace (and beauty, if his looks strike your fancy). Again, I'll go with a Japanese comparison: While the geisha were mysterious and their services in high demand, it took years of training to become a true geisha. You had to learn dancing, singing, to play an instrument, calligraphy, the tea ceremony, you had to be eloquent and demure and something seemingly unattainable. The geisha weren't technically prostitutes in the contemporary sense of the word, and neither were the eunuchs necessarily love slaves. They could be servants, attendants, body guards, chamberlains, entertainers - or several of the above. Only those who were most skilled in several areas were ever fit to serve in a noble household. Beauty played a big part in it, but that was just the beginning. In Bagoas' case, his beauty is his ticket into Darius' court, and subsequently his one way ticket into Alexander's entourage.
(If push comes to shove, Bagoas might try to use his subservience and Pretty to get him out of trouble - not out of malice or some sort of manipulative streak, but because his currency is his trade, and his trade is services rendered in exchange for shelter or whathaveyou. He'll use his "womanly wiles" if he has to, because he has had no other options for his entire adult life.
At this point, he isn't above offering himself on a platter to someone he perceives as in power. The only thing he has of any value is himself and his body - and it's not as though he hasn't done the exact same thing before. He'd rather be the one initiating a transaction, as it were, rather than have someone else treat him as a commodity to be sold. It would let him feel a bit more in control, though it's a fine line indeed.)
* He speaks Greek from his eight-or-there-abouts years with Alexander and his Macedonians and Greeks. His native language is Farsi.
ADDITIONAL SAMPLE:
Ptolemy, who came to rule the Alexandria of Egypt after Alexander's death; also the final destination for his bier and myself; was some twenty years my elder, and had become prone to wandering the great halls at night. On one such night, neither one of us could find rest. I found him in his study, which was more than one would think from the term. It was a hall of giants, with great marble pillars and bookcases that groaned under the weight of tome after tome, seeming one and all to reach for the heavens. I remembered him as an imposing man from his height alone, but with age his spine had begun to bend like the wilting stem of a flower in a vase. Sometimes I wondered what held him, that he shouldn't fall; the vase to his flower; but to this day I never learned his secret. He had seen so much of battle. It was his right to grow old and bent out of shape.
I found him sitting in a slump on the floor, parchment and scrolls arranged about him. He was mumbling to himself, his wrinkled old hands moving from parchment to parchment, from one scroll to the next. I joined him then, coming to stand behind and to the left of him. He always seemed aware of me, even in a room full of clerics and squires, he could always single me out.
"Bagoas," he said, one of his hands hovering in the air between us. To keep my distance, or to beckon me closer, I could not tell. His mind was going; some would deem it a small price for such riches as he had surrounded himself with.
"Yes, I am here," said I. He looked at me then, with eyes that were once bright with knowledge. They still were, but their colour had faded with age.
"Bagoas... Beautiful boy. Oh, how we underestimated you."
I kneeled beside him, offering a small smile. This was more consideration than he had ever given me when Alexander was alive. Back then, he had felt as many of his Macedonian brothers did; that they were superior, and Persia a land of simpering, sycophantic barbarians. There was a time he thought my mere presence a disgrace. But that was a long time ago, and I cared very little for dwelling. At once he grasped my hand, pressing to his cheek the signet ring Alexander had gifted me that cold winter in the Valley of the Benefactors, for all the birthdays I had lost. "Ever loyal. Ever faithful. More willing than any Macedonian to follow him into death, to actually follow him where ever he would lead."
"Yes," I answered him, closing my fingers around his spotted hand. He was but a shadow of himself, and I had been taught to always look to the Light, not the Lie. I was a boy no longer, but still I felt a faint touch of pride to be called beautiful. "It is late, and you are an old man who should find his rest in the comfort of his bed."
Ptolemy shook his head; my hand remained. "Rest!" He scoffed. "How can I rest when I know my successor?" He spoke of his son, who would be a very different ruler from his father. It did not bode well for Alexandria, nor its people. Nor, as it seemed, for me.
"If he is half as thoughtful in your absence, half as just, he shall do you proud. One can ask no more," I told him, knowing he needed to hear it, though not strictly true. His son coveted the throne too hotly, and already there were signs of him enjoying overmuch the taste of power. He knew this as well as I. If his son ever reached half as high as he, we would all consider ourselves fortunate. Where Ptolemy had erred in his youth, he had learned from it. He had made amends, even with me. The same could not be said for his son, who could still be called young.
"Come now, Ptolemy, the night grows weary of such brooding," I said, making to raise myself and take him with me. With a sigh, he struggled to his feet. I took his arm, his hand in mine, and led him towards his bedchamber. Halfway there, he turned to me, asking if I knew what Ptolemaios meant. It means aggressive, war-like. Sotïr means saviour, which was his chosen name as King. I simply said, "Will you tell me?"
A light went on behind his eyes. He smiled, and once again told me the story, which I had heard many times before, of how he came to be called a warrior even from birth, and how he had chosen instead to become its opposite, and now dedicated his remaining life to write the true story of the Great King. He was happy to tell me.
I was happy to listen.