'The king himself, they say, lived in Susa or Ectbana, invisible to all, in a marvelous palace. Outside the palace doors, the leaders and most eminent men were drawn up in order, some called 'guards' and the 'king's eyes and ears', so that the king himself might see everything and hear everything.'
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-Babylon, 464 BC-
In the vast throne room of the Southern Palace, sat Artaxerxes on his throne, elevated meters above the terrace floor. Artaxerxes looked down on his sycophants and admirers like a god.
The throne room was supported by a dozen columns on either side, each of which was filled to the brim with reliefs, precious stones, and gold. The reflective marble tiled floors shone through the gaps between each column in the morning sunlight.
"A priest of Yehud seeks an audience, my King." The royal steward announced.
Hearing Parnakkas announcement, Artaxerxes was intrigued.
'Yehud... If I remember correctly, in my past life it went by a different name...Judah!'
"Bring him to me," Artaxerxes said authoritatively.
Nodding at his Kings command, Parnakka signaled to the guards to fetch the Judaean. It wasn't before long that a pair of Immortals strode into the throne hall, flanking an average-looking man dressed in robes of worship.
Performing a hasty courtesy, unfamiliar with court etiquette, the priest then introduced himself, "I am Ezra, of Yehud, and I wish to bring a petition to the Great King!"
Perhaps out of nervousness or fright, the man had spoken quite loud, and his octaves varied frequently.
Artaxerxes, realizing he didn't have anything else planned today, decided he could spend some time listening to what this man had to say.
His head resting on his fist, Artaxerxes voice echoed throughout the throne room, "Speak, Ezra of Yehud."
Elated at surmounting the first hurdle of his audience, Erza continued on, "My King! The people of Yehud have served the Achaemenids faithfully and loyally for generations as repayment for the deeds of the Messiah, King Cyrus!"
Listening to Ezra's petition, Artaxerxes was reminded of his mother's stories as a child, where his great-grandfather Cyrus conquered Babylon and freed the enslaved Jews. And ever since, the people of Yehud have served the Achaemenids with honor.
"However, my King, the past decade has been hard on my people. With famine and war signaling the end of times, I believe it is paramount for the holy city of Jerusalem to be rebuilt! God wills it!" Ezra announced with a zealous revelry.
"Thus, Great King, I only ask of you for permission to rebuild Jerusalem's holy temple and formidable walls!"
Having finished his Petition, Ezra anxiously waited with his eyes facing the ground, praying to God that the Great King will approve.
Artaxerxes, his head still resting on his fist, and his posture leisurely laid back, thought about Ezra's words.
'Rebuild Jeruselum huh? Though I never knew much of history in my other life, I certainly remember that any empire that stood in the way of its construction collapsed. The Romans, The Egyptians, and The Babylonians.'
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Deciding to take history as a lesson, Artaxerxes spoke, "Ezra of Yehud, your words have resonated with me and your God has sent me a message:
'Fund the building of the holy city to immortalize the Achaemenid dynasty'
Thus, I, King Artaxerxes, King of Kings, an Achaemenid proclaim; 50 gold talents are to be issued from the royal treasury to fund the building of Jerusalem."
Elated by the King's words, Ezra immediately said, "Bless you, my King! Truly a descendant of the noble Cyrus! With god as a witness, this day will be remembered for all of history!"
Smiling at Ezra's eloquent flattery, Artaxerxes motioned for Parnakka to show him the way out and give him his gold for the gargantuan construction project he faced ahead.
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-Syria, Damascus, 464 BC-
A hulk of a man feasted amongst family, courtiers, and advisors. His massive frame alone took up enough space for three men to sit as he chew on a lamb chop with passion, this man was Megabyzus, brother-in-law to Artaxerxes, King of Kings.
Megabyzus had distinguished himself not only in the greek campaigns of Xerxes but also in the Eastern campaigns with Artaxerxes, decisively defeating a weary Gandaran foe.
The sounds of flutes and lyres created a festive atmosphere as men and women feasted under the night stars and the Damascus skyline outlines their surroundings. Not the hellhole it is known for today, Syria was the heartbeat of Persian trade, wealth, and commerce. Damascus as its capital city especially benefited, with countless sprawling palaces and mansions showcasing the wealth of society's upper echelons
As Megabyzus burped uproariously, an attendant dashed into the mess hall and whispered something into the general's ear.
A grimace appeared on his face as he listened to the messenger's words. "Agh! I get peace for six months! six months! and war brews yet again!"
Interrupting his quivering attendant, Megabyzus got up and out of his lavish seat and walked out of the hall, leaving behind the shouts and yells of revelry.
After navigating through his palace's zigzagging halls, Megabyzus soon reached a pavilion that was supported by a pair of marble columns, built by a greek artisan.
Entering the pavilion and earning respectful courtesies from the soldiers who guarded its entrance, Megabyzus strolled into the council chambers. Inside the council chambers already waited a dozen or so of his high-ranking lieutenants and strategists who had all received word of war.
Seeing their general enter, all the men inside courtesied in respect and awaited his first words. Taking a seat around the table that was being used for maps and other important intel, Megabyzus spoke, "This better be good! One minute we're at war with the Bactrian rebels and the next we're at war with someone else!"
His aides, all sweating nervously at their general's tirade shuffled around uncomfortably. Noticing his advisor's discomfort, Megabyzus asked, "What is it? Who are we at war with?"
When the messenger was informing Megabyzus of the situation, he frankly tuned everything out after it was mentioned that he was being summoned to war, after all, he had wanted to rest his weary bones for while longer!
Finally, one of the lieutenants stepped forwards, "My lord, Athens has been acting unscrupulously on our territorial waters, King Artaxerxes has rallied you to raise an army in Anatolia to ensure its defense!"
Megabyzus, whose arms had been resting on the cedar wood table, cracked. That's right, so much pressure had built up inside his tense muscles that the wooden table beneath his elbows began to show cracks.
His vision red, Megabyzus growled, "I see! Those Athenian barbarians didn't have enough when we razed their little acropolis to the ground!"
Standing up, Megabyzus no longer carried the indifferent and petulant attitude of a noble, but rather the ferocious force that had led to his famous reputation as a merciless war god broke through the surface.
Without wasting time, Megabyzus immediately commanded, "Rally all of Syria! I want no man of fighting age left behind! And send word to the straps of Anatolia, tell them, be ready for war..."