April 4, 2012
Sometimes I cry just because Hephastion died.


He died.

Why did he die?


It’s not okay.

It’s better than if Alexander had died first, though. Because then Hephastion would have had to witness as the Diadochi tearing Alexander’s empire apart. And he would have been sucked into the chaos and then one day he would have rode into battle on Bucephalas (who obviously didn’t die, and who obviously could only be ridden by one person other than Alexander and that person would have been Hephastion), and for a moment everyone would have looked at him and seen Alexander. And then they’d have fought and killed him even though in their hearts they knew that would have been the last thing Alexander wanted.

Oh, god, why did Hephastion and Alexander not just die side by side in battle.

Or live forever.

Or walk into the desert and turn into birds.

It happens, okay.

I believe it. They did turn into birds.

And have been reborn numerous times since. Finding each other through time and space.

They live forever.

(Quelle: aturinfortheworse)

April 1, 2012

Cycnus, the son of Sthenelus witnessed this marvel, who though he was kin to you Phaethon, through his mother, was closer still in love. Now, though he had ruled the people and great cities of Liguria, he left his kingdom, and filled Eridanus’s green banks and streams, and the woods the sisters had become part of, with his grief. As he did so his voice vanished and white feathers hid his hair, his long neck stretched out from his body, his reddened fingers became webbed, wings covered his sides, and a rounded beak his mouth. So Cycnus became a new kind of bird, the swan. But he had no faith in Jupiter and the heavens, remembering the lightning bolt the god in his severity had hurled. He looked for standing water, and open lakes hating fire, choosing to live in floods rather than flames.

From Book II of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Cycnus (mourning the death of Phaeton)