Iｎ the Persian Bazaar: The Roar of an Empire

Episode Two: Iron Boots March Beyond the Border

1. Trembling Water, Vanished Birds

After the messenger’s passage, the bazaar fell into a silence like the breath before a storm.

At the front of Danesh’s stall, a brass water jar began to tremble—its surface rippling in small, perfectly spaced circles.

“…What is this shaking? An earthquake?” Danesh muttered.

But this was not the earth’s anger.

It was the marching quake of tens of thousands of iron-shod feet—

the advance of the Macedonian phalanx, heavy infantry moving in flawless rhythm.

Above them, the sky was empty.

Not a single bird remained.

“Birds sense the smell of death,” Inaz said, tying her saffron bags with trembling hands.

A fear she had never known before darkened her eyes.

2. The Bell of Decision: Cyrus and King Reza

The northern palace gates opened with a thunderous groan.

King Reza descended into the market on his famed steed, clad in golden armor.

At his side stood Hossein, the royal guard, expression unchanging.

“People of the bazaar—hear me!”

Reza’s voice echoed across the square.

“The young king of the West, Alexander, has stained our border rivers with blood!

He comes for our wealth, our gods, and the pride of this market!”

Cries erupted.

From among them, Cyrus stared back at the king with the eyes of a cornered beast.

He leapt from his camel and stepped forward.

“My King. I am a merchant—and I hate bad deals.

But I’m no peddler who stays silent while his home burns.

Add my caravan and my men to the edge of your army!”

Reza studied Cyrus’s dirt- and sand-stained face, then smiled sharply.

“Merchant… what is your weapon?”

“Knowing the desert.

And the obsession to never give up.”

3. The Spice Fortress: Inaz and Danesh

After the king’s departure, the bazaar chose not flight—but fortification.

Leading this choice were the most peace-loving of all: Inaz and Danesh.

“Danesh! The ancient texts—how did they blind the enemy in old wars?”

Inaz dragged out sacks of chili, cumin, and pungent herbs.

“Mix them with oil. Drop them from above.

Armor protects the body—but not the eyes!”

Danesh spread open his thick leather ledger.

“…Here. The underground water channels.

Block them, and the square becomes a mire.

Heavy armor will trap them.”

Knowledge and spice—

merchant wisdom transforming into instruments of slaughter.

The sight was both beautiful and cruel.

4. Oath in the Shadows: Shahab and Jare

Inside the fortune-teller Jare’s tent, Shahab polished his flute in silence.

“Old woman… your prophecy said this market would burn.”

Jare shook her head weakly.

“I see fire. But I also see something born within it.

Shahab… can your serpent reach the lion’s throat?”

Shahab raised the flute and played a sharp, piercing note.

“It will. I want to see that sun-loving king crawl in the dirt.”

At his feet, a king cobra coiled and swayed.

He would not fight in the open.

He sharpened his poison in the dark.

5. Princess Nilfar’s Quiet Resolve

Deep within the palace, Inji prepared simple travel clothes.

“My lady—please. Cyrus’s caravan can spirit you away through the back roads—”

Nilfar set down her pearl comb and faced her reflection.

“Inji… I heard their prayers in that market.

They fight not only for this land—but for me, as hope.”

She cut her gown’s hem with her own blade.

“I will not flee.

If the market burns, I will share its heat.

Hossein—bring my horse to the center of the bazaar.”

Hossein bowed deeply.

In his eyes burned a passion beyond mere loyalty.

6. The Sound of Ruin, the Silent Market

The western horizon turned a dull, ominous gray.

A low roar drowned the bazaar’s voices—

the Macedonian vanguard approached, phalanx spears like a forest of iron.

“…Are those even human?” Shahin whispered from the rooftops.

“Their steps… one rhythm.

Thousands moving like a single giant.”

At the market’s heart, Inaz stacked the heaviest spice jars.

“Danesh… let’s run. Words won’t reach monsters like that.”

Danesh clutched his ancient texts.

“Then we’ll answer them with the wisdom this market forged.”

7. Cyrus Awakens: Merchant to Warrior

At the market gate, Cyrus stood atop a camel, sun blazing behind him.

“Listen up!

They’re slaves chained by ‘discipline’!

We are hawks—free, desert-born!”

He drew a wavering-bladed sword, gift of a foreign king.

“Teach those Macedonian brats—

not a grain of sand or strand of silk here is free!”

The caravan men roared, drawing blades, bows, slings.

8. Blood at the Market Gate

The vanguard stepped onto the stone pavement.

“Epodós! Charge!”

Steel surged forward—

and Shahab’s flute screamed above the din.

From rooftops, tunnels, and shadows, Kabir’s beggars erupted.

“Don’t tread our road with filthy boots!”

Spice and oil exploded in the air, blinding and choking the phalanx.

Order shattered.

Cyrus’s camel riders struck like lightning.

“Behold—the baptism of the desert!”

Steel clashed, sparks lit the dusk like daylight.

9. The Princess’s Prayer, the Guard’s Blade

From the balcony, Nilfar watched, pale.

“My people are bleeding…”

Hossein stepped forward.

“I will go. I will end this madness.”

“Take me with you,” she said.

“I will not be a sheltered water lily.

If they fight, I will stand as their hope.”

Hossein took her hand.

“To the depths of hell, then.”

As they descended, the market clock struck noon once more—

not a bell of peace, but a funeral toll.

10. The End of the First Night

After hours of slaughter, the gate ran red with blood and spice.

The Macedonian vanguard withdrew.

Cyrus planted his sword in stone, gasping.

Shahin leaned on his spear.

Shahab knelt, flute still in hand.

The market had won—

by its own hands.

Yet Danesh whispered, trembling,

“This is only the first step.

Alexander will not stop.”

Night fell.

Nilfar walked among the wounded, tearing her dress to bind them, singing softly.

Her voice cooled the battlefield.

The paradise of peace had become an unyielding fortress.

The gears of fate now turned—

faster than anyone could stop