Babylon, Persia - June 323 B.C.
On the 10th of June, a month short of his 33rd year...Alexander's great heart finally gave out.
And as he vowed, he joined Hephaistion.
But in his short life, he achieved, without doubt...the mythic glory of his ancestor Achilles and more.
Olympias' transgression in the murder of his father...is, to my mind, a probability. His, a burden.
Alexander was too in love with glory for him to steal it.
But by blood, and blood alone, he was guilty.
Bolt the doors.
The body stays in Babylon.
The body belongs to Macedon.
This must be decided...
Within hours...we were fighting like jackals for his corpse.
The wars of the world had begun.
Forty years, off and on, they endured. Cassander in Greece. Crateros and Antigonus in western Asia. Solucas and Perdiccas in the East. Myself in Egypt. Until we divided his empire in four parts.
Gentlemen, we are not savages. We are the future...
I think Alexander would have been disappointed in us.
Naturally, rumors grew he'd been poisoned by one faction of his generals or another...but the truth in these matters has long since been driven from currency.
Cassander saw to that with his fake diaries...painting Alexander as a sick and bloated drunk.
Many believed, to remove suspicion from himself.