Gates Of Fire

I had to write an epilogue for Gates of Fire, so here it is:

TWENTY - EIGHT

I’ve been curious about the woman that had been at the ceremony for the Spartan warriors. I was so intrigued by the difference of her eyes and reaction during the service. The captain had no idea what her name was or who she was, but I was determined to find out. I recalled when Xeones had mentioned his cousin, his star-crossed lover, Diomache. When I had first seen the woman at the ceremony part of me had sparked a fire, a fire telling me that it was her paying her respects to the one she truly loved, the narrator of the story once told to me.

I beared in mind that Xeones had told me that she last resided in Athens with a husband and kids. I set off for Athens with the consent of His Majesty, Xerxes.

“I would like to continue the story of the Spartan that you saved, Xeones. My curiosity lingers about Diomache, the woman he had loved and where his body lies, if it had not been the ashes brought by the Aeginetan vessel,” I told His Majesty.

“Go on. Find Diomache and bring her here,” His Majesty replied. His Majesty wanted to hear her story, her story about the Spartan that left her behind in Athens, her take on their childhood.

So, I went. I arrived in Athens and went straight to Alexius, a member of the Delian League. I knew he would be able to help find the woman I was looking for. A woman like her wouldn’t go unnoticed by members of Athens for so long, she had a past with the storyteller of the Spartans, and everyone knew it.

“My Alexius, under the ruling of His Majesty, Xerxes of Persia, I come to ask of your help in finding an Athenian woman named Diomache. I once was held here captive as your scribe for the transformations taking place in here Athens. Help me sir for I come with no harm,” I said in need of some information hoping he would help me.

“Scribe, under the ruling of His Majesty, Xerxes of Persia, why am I to help you find the Athenian Diomache, wife of Methodius? What is the purpose of your inquiry?”

“I come under the purpose of the story of the Spartan warrior, Xeones.” I told him impatiently, anxious to get to her, “ He was killed during the Battle of Thermopylae.”

“I understand. The lady Diomache should be at the courtyard of the temple, just follow the shore as Xeones did,” he kindly spoke pointing me the right direction.

I walked along the shore until we reached the temple, which looked just like a common house, as I remembered what Xeo had told me. Xeones’ life was the main of my life since I was given the job of recording his dictation.

I walked along the outer path, and roamed around the courtyard as a dam went to retrieve her for me. The same eyes hidden beneath the sheathing veil sauntered towards me, and I stared into them, into her soul and story.

“I received news before you came that a scribe under the ruling of Xerxes was in search of me. It is for the purpose of my young Xeo, is it not?” She bantered with a sly grin pasted on her face, though her eyes showed a river of sadness flowing through her.

“Was it you at the ceremony that—” “Yes. I was the one escorted out by the captain. Suicide mission of 300—”, she interrupted, her voice trailing away as she completed the thought with the tears streaming down her cheek.

I allowed her to explain her story to me, in greater detail than what I had heard from Xeo. Xeones knew important pieces of why him and Diomache could not have the love he wanted, but not each and every one. Ariston had been right. The essence of women’s courage is superior to men’s. Diomache’s strength amazed me in so many ways.

I had entered the courtyard at daybreak, and as Diomache finished, it came to my realization that the sun had set hours before. We sat in the light of the night sharing the details of our relationship with Xeones.

Her last words before returning back into the temple were, “Those were the last tears of mine for him, my lord, that the sun will ever see.” Her dear beloved cousin uttered just years before the same words, before the gods took him away, but I knew she would stay. The wife Diomache would stay on this earth with Methodius and her kids, the gods owed her that.

I stood, breathing in the cold, fresh air of the night and walked. His Majesty will be waiting for me. I knew the story, the story he had been as curious about, or even more. But, what would I tell His Majesty? The pain, joy, and private thoughts of a woman were not meant to spread to others; they were meant to stay secret, hidden, veiled like the face of the woman at the ceremony. I would leave it there, every detail that had been said to me. It was meant to stay there.

My writing is so amateur and lame, I know. It was the best I could do in a short period of time. If I recommend reading Gates of Fire, by Steven Pressfield, I would be lying. (I was about to say half-lying and half-telling-the-truth, but there is no such thing. A lie is a lie.) The book at times can be quite entertaining, but if you're not a fan of reading, "Don't read it!" Also, there is fairly large amount of profanity in this book. Beware.