First Chapter. A bit different from the movie but, oh well.
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie 300. No, I did not direct 300 the movie. I wish I was a spartan but I'm not.
Before the age of modernization was introduced, the world's most splendid warriors were the Spartans. Heavily disciplined warriors, the Spartans were taken away from their parents to a military camp at the early age of seven. Tested ever since they were born for signs of birth defects, the Spartan boys were trained to never fear, and never surrender and that the greatest glory was to die in battle. Spartans who were sent to battle were told to"Come back with their shields or upon it." Sparta's greatest Spartan was King Leonidas. Rumored to be the descendent of Heracles, Leonidas was the ultimate Spartan. This is his story of how he faced Xerxes's vast army.
This is the story of the 300 Spartans at Thermoplyae.
The sky was dark, and wind was blowing from the west. Night had begun sooner than the King had expected. The moon was barely a crescent. He felt it portentous. A great pearl was upon the Spartans. One so great it might even wipe out the entire Greek race.
Leonidas was rarely worried, but tonight, he felt something was wrong. Something told him that Sparta will fall. He got up from his bed and began to contemplate. This started happening only a few days ago. He couldn't sleep. His dreams were often bloody and consisted of killing. In one of them, he saw a head chopped off by a sword. He couldn't make out who's head it was. Blood was splattered all over the blade before he would wake up and began his contemplation again.
His mind was somewhere else when Queen Gorgo, his wife, spoke.
"My King, what troubles you?"
"It was another dream again. The same one, except this time, someone was beheaded."
"What do you think this means?"
Leonidas didn't want to bring worry upon his wife too, but he couldn't keep the lie forever. He kept nothing from his Queen.
"I think Sparta will go to war again." He said softly to his beloved Queen. "This time, it would decide the fate of all of Sparta."
It was morning; the sun had just begun to make its journey upwards. Outside in the busy streets of Sparta, the citizens moved industriously to and fro. Merchants from other places were coming in to trade with Sparta. It was going to be a long day for the Spartans.
One of the outsiders didn't carry any trade or any money. Instead, he wore a white turban wrapped around his face and a jagged sword swinging from his belt. He wasn't alone. There were five or six others that stood at his side, all with the same attire except each one of them had a large jar strapped to their backs. But the jars were empty. Their dark complexion showed that they were Persians.
Nearby, out of the Persians' eyesight, Spartan guards stood alert. Completely aware of the new visitors. Each with a hand on their hilt. Ready to draw their blades out if anything disruptive was evident. They knew these Persians were no ordinary travelers.
A bearded merchant at a stand, however, didn't know they were Persians, andsaw the strange newcomers and their large jars. The leader of the Persian pack watched the busy streets without expression. He led the pack into the city.
"I'd like to buy your jar sir?" The merchant's Helot accent was clear and distinguished. The Persian leader still expressionless eyes looked straight ahead. Completely ignoring the merchant was even there.
The merchant tried again.
"Do you hear me? I 'm interested in your jar? How much would you sell it for?"
This time, the Persian too note ofthe merchant. Without a warning, he drew out his sword. The merchant wasn't even able to yelp. His swing moved swiftly and soundlessly as if he barely used a muscle. A quick swing. The merchant's head disconnected from the body and the body fell lifelessly to the soft, sandy ground.
The surrounding people were screaming. There was blood everywhere. Themurderer was still expressionless as if nothing had happened. The Spartan guards scrambled toward the scene. Obviously, they were too late.
Swords were drawn from its sheath as the skilled Spartan warriors drew them upon the Persian. The Persian leader, seeing the weapon pointed at his face, finally showed some sign of feeling as he slowly put down his weapon. However, there was still no sign of worry on the Persian's face.
"We wish to see your King." He said phlegmatically.
"The nerve of you, Persian!" Grunted the taller of the two Spartan Guards. "I should've killed you were you stand. It's nothing short of a miracle you're still breathing."
Unlike the other Greek city-states, Sparta was one of two that didn't care how powerful Persian Empire was. The other was Athens.
"You know it is a law not to harm messengers, especially Persian ones." The Persian said confidently. He was a little too confident.
The gaurd looked at him with disgust.
"We don't care about your Persian reputation! There will be no toleration for what you just did." The tall guard said preparing his weapon. "Any last words, Persian?"
"A word with your king is all I wish." The Persian was beginning to get worried. They weren't expecting this.
The other guard, the shorter one,knew better than not to tell the King. It was vital to inform the King of any newsbearer, murderer or not. As much as he hated to admit it, the Persians must be kept alive, for now.
He signaled his comrade to stop what he was going to do.
"You know better than this, Xander. Go tell the King. He must be informed." The shorter guard said. Xander realized this and reluctantly put down his weapon but snarled at the Persian.
"Doesn't make a difference. Leonidas would never let these Persians out of Sparta alive." was his last words before walking off.
Despite Xander's clear warning, the Persian actually relaxed. He returned to his expressionless state.