The strife between Xerxes and Arslan

Rufus has dragged up a winding staircase, his arms held tightly by two Ursangs. He couldn't help but feel his heart racing as he was thrust into a small, dimly lit tower room. He was surrounded by stone walls and a small window that barely let in any light.

"Welcome to your new home," Hemael, the priest of Xerxes, announced with a tone of finality.

Rufus was allowed to look around his cell. It was sparse, with a thin mattress on the floor and a bucket in the corner for waste. But what caught his attention were the thick black cords that were attached to the walls.

"What are those?" Rufus asked, pointing to the ominous-looking cords.

Hemael's eyes flicked to the Ursang standing at attention in the corner of the room. "This is Anonush. He will be charged with guarding you during your stay," Hemael explained, turning back to Rufus. "And those are the twines of Erlik. Forged by her and given to Xerxes."

As Hemael spoke, the cords sprang to life, stabbing into Rufus's legs and arms. He cried out in pain, but as quickly as it had come, the pain faded away.

"They are not connected to your body, but to your soul," Hemael continued. "You try to escape, the cords will drag your soul back at least."

Rufus felt his stomach churn at the thought of being trapped in this cell for the rest of his life. "Tell me. Are you an Ursang as well?" Rufus asked Hemael.

"I am not. I am a priest and the caretaker of the ziggurat of Xerxes," Hemael explained.

"Are there many of you priests here?" Rufus asked, trying to gauge his chances of escape.

"I am the only one," Hemael said. "I will take my leave now, as I am a busy person. But you, for the rest of your life, won't be."

"What do you mean?" Rufus asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Hemael's eyes bore into Rufus's. "Learn to pass the time," he said before turning and walking out of the cell, leaving Rufus alone with Anonush and his thoughts.

~~

Days passed and nothing happened. Rufus's fate was the same, the cell had just improved.

The days blurred together as Rufus tried to adjust to his new life. The small window in his cell let in a sliver of light, but it was barely enough to keep him sane. Anonush remained vigilant, watching Rufus's every move, never letting him out of his sight.

As the days turned into weeks, Rufus began to feel the weight of his isolation. He was trapped in this cell, his only company the stone walls and the Ursang guard. The food that was brought to him every day tasted bland and unappetizing, but he forced himself to eat every bite.

The food was always delivered always by Hemael. Most of the time he quickly gave the plate and hour later retrieved it an hour later.

"So tell me. I understood Xerxes and Arslan are brothers. Why can not they patch their understandings?" Rufus asked.

The Ursang moved slightly after hearing the question and Hemael also fidgeted a bit.

"Lord Xerxes has always looked for the best interest of our people. Even if it has hurt his pride."

"What do you mean?"

"The heaven was left reeling after Cyrus was mortally wounded by the human conqueror Iskander after the battle of Gaugamela. Cyrus was mortally wounded and couldn't even eat anymore and was rushed here. To this very ziggurat.

Arslan, consumed by grief and anger, immediately sought to resist Iskander and avenge their father. But Xerxes, who had always been the more measured and wise of the two, knew that such actions would only lead to more bloodshed and suffering for their people. Iskander had proven that neither of the brothers was a match for him or his warriors.

Arslan left Babylus and moved north, to continue to fight Iskander, to resist, with no chance of winning. He knew this, but he was a stubborn one and rather went down dying and trying. Before long, the host of Iskander marched here, and the city surrendered without a fight.

Xerxes chose to bow before Iskander and give his allegiance to spare their people, while Arslan continued his foolish quest for revenge. Iskander, surprisingly, showed mercy and tried to save Cyrus's life with the best healers at his disposal. But even with their best efforts, Cyrus passed away. Iskander himself wept, feeling quilt for mortally wounding Cyrus, surprising Xerxes. Even the enemies of Cyrus admired the great god.

Arslan's reckless behavior continued as he rallied more warriors from the north to join his cause. But Xerxes, ever loyal to their people, knew that their only hope was to give their allegiance to Iskander and prevent further destruction.

Xerxes acted with wisdom and foresight, knowing that his decisions would have lasting consequences for their people. Arslan, on the other hand, acted impulsively and selfishly, blinded by his thirst for revenge.

As Iskander flew away, his back turned on Arslan, it was clear that the mad scethian god was no match for the conqueror's power and cunning, shown as Iskander completely and utterly ignored him. But even in his defeat, Arslan refused to back down, continuing to rage against Iskander and his perceived injustices. It was then that Iskander left behind the monster Antigonus to rule in his stead, a beast so terrifying, not because of his strength, but purely by the malice of his actions. He and his men brutalized our people and all sassan and in fear of Iskander, no one resisted.

But when Iskander finally fell to sickness, not long after his departure, in god's years of course, it was Xerxes who was ready to rise to power, ready to take on the mantle of leadership and guide our people forward. He quickly set his sights on Babylus, wiping out all the humans who had once oppressed their people. It was a victory for the sassans, and they celebrated their newfound freedom and power.

However, as Xerxes moved on to Parsana, the last holdout of Antigonus, he found Arslan already there, having taken matters into his own hands and disposed of the humans himself. Thousands of humans, slain by Arslan personally. But to Xerxes' dismay, his brother blamed him for being weak and not doing enough to protect their people, even though it was Arslan's resistance that had caused their people to suffer for so long.

From that moment on, the two brothers went their separate ways, each with their vision for the future of their people. Arslan refused to heed the law preventing Scythian raids, allowing his bloodthirsty barbarians to kill and maim as they pleased. The tension between the two brothers grew, and it seemed that there was no hope for reconciliation.

And here we are now. But as a devoted follower of Xerxes, I know that he is the true leader our people need - strong, wise, and just. May his reign be long and prosperous, and may the Scethians finally find peace in death." Hemael explained.