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The Persian King

Chapter 1: The Beggining

When I awoke all I could feel was hunger.

It festered inside me like a wound, for what they gave me to eat had become spare. In my cell I could only see that it was daylight from the small hole too high for me to see from. I was to young to learn to count from my mother when she died, I had only turned 7 before my father had sold me for his debts.

"Rotten Bastard" I couldn't help but say those were when I remembered that day. It was the day I got a new name, one that signified that I was no longer a member of my father's family, someone not worthy of being loved, not worthy of a name.

'I have been a slave for 8 years, I am lucky to survive until now '

Unfortunately, from what I have heard there is a war going on between Greece and Persia, many people have died and thigs are becoming more unstable. This has led to many slaves being used to fight and I don't know any that have come back alive.

I hear chatter from outside which has been more frequent

"Πού είναι οι σκλάβοι"

As ive never learned to communicate verbally I have no real understanding of what there saying, but the sound "σκλάβοι" its what they call us. What do they want with more slaves? I wonder this as I hear my cell door open.

A man taller then I enters and yells at me

" Σήκω σκλάβος αλλιώς θα πεθάνεις την ώρα του πολέμου"

I have no idea what he is saying before he yanks me out of the cell, I cant hold my body up without support so he ends up half dragging me while I try to keep up.

After a what seemed like ages we stop in front of a large wooden door covered in Greek symbols, the prison guard? Pushes the door open and there is a warm breeze that flows by, I see colors that I haven't seen in years that are vibrant and bright.

Its Time to Find a new name, One that I create for myself