STUDY - Technical - WRITING

a nEW mORNING for an old memory

Yes, I admit, I feel the anger of the memories

Calming tonic tea delights my senses on this sunny morning before starting a new day.

But my thoughts are far from the worries of the day that will begin.

Looking at the hills of Haţeg in the Subcetate area, I remember an old book about the true location of Samizegetusa, the royal fortress of Decebalus, the first and last fallen king of the ancient Dacians.

A hill like a fortress… That much remained of it after the Roman desolators dismantled it, stone by stone, to erase every trace of its existence. As they did with Carthage and every other great fortress touched by the desolation of Rome’s predators,

Just as it happened with Brăila, my hometown, whose centuries-old citadel the Russian conquerors dismantled stone by stone... Throwing it into the banality of some town... Indifferent to its history and culture...

My thoughts return to the Hațeg valley, where, in the area of the pass, “Tapae” in the old language, they built a new Samizegetuza, of the Romans, called by the elders of the place “Sarmizegetuza of the Ulpia Traiana Thieves," of those who looted the gold and silver of the Dacians just for less than two centuries, until their great empire fled to the coming nothingness.

Reaching only a Rome of helplessness and a new faith... Yes, all roads no longer led to Rome but only to the “Messenger of God," the administrator of Catholic Christendom and, by no means, of all Christians.

Perhaps that is why only traces of the sacred temples of Dacia remain, like a resistance of divine powers, in what is now known to be the Sarmizegetusa Regia.

Yes, I admit, I feel the anger of the memories!

In my long series of existences, my thoughts and experiences systematically return to the one in which I was Scorilo’s Diurpaneus, the one who became the general of the ten thousand elite fighters of the Sarmizegetuza fortress.

“Dece” in our language, and by no means Latin, signifies the number ten thousand, and “balus” meant “fighter” in our old language, of the Dacians. Or Thracians…

One last chance before resigning...

But these memories are the result of a long previous series of events, and existences. What they were trying to do led to a better world. At least as we imagined it then... And a long time in the future...

I came to these lands long before, in the area of present-day Romania, when I was with the legendary king Zamolxis of the Pelasgians, the one mentioned by Herodotus, as king of the descendants of the Atlanteans.

Shortly after what you call the Wurm glaciation, in your time around 6,000 BC.

We had come to great deeds, eager not to let the legacy of Atlantis go to waste.

Especially since we were not part of the barbarians, as history was later distorted. Anyway, in those days, anyone who wasn’t part of his people was considered a barbarian. Anywhere in this world...

We were only very tall, most of us were blondes with blue eyes. The giants who are still talked about throughout Romania, from the Luanei Valley in the Carpathian arc, to Maramureș and Bucovina... And, possibly, in the Balkan space of Greece and the present Bulgarians to the Middle East.

Maybe that’s why we looked fierce... By no means bloody... As some of our descendants were associated with Goliath, who fought David.

We were too strong to be violent…

What is certain is that the Pelasgian empire would have been a vast one, extending over much of Europe, Asia, and Africa, even reaching Japan, where our descendants are the northern population called "Aum”.

But, we “left” the clearest traces of the Indus Valley, described as the Aryans who brought with us the Vedic culture and language. It is true, far from what will be found now in the culture and languages of those places...

But, generation after generation, we became smaller and smaller in stature, smaller and smaller in purity or soul, more and more naturalized to the hard times on this planet, in this community...

The violence or obedience of humans has corrupted us, forcing us to act in their ways, in the ways of their understanding…

Thus, we quickly came to understand that a certain way of life, no matter how elevated it may be, pays dearly… Entropy…

That is why the Atlantean way of life was abandoned after not even 50 generations. The old ways had been forgotten, drowned in the violence of those who had become mere warriors.

Each with his own anger... But the more intense it was, the more violence was assured.

It didn’t matter anymore that we conquered the “known” world, it didn’t matter what we were and built...

That’s why we retreated, sick and tired, to the Carpatho-Balkan area, our place of departure… Becoming Dacians, in the great family of the Thracians...

Among the existences, as Vergilius wrote in his "Aeneid," I was a Thracian warrior, Aeneas of Mycenae Argolida, the one who defended Troy, the one who brought our language to where it will be distinguished as the language of the land of Latium.

Anyway, my pride was deformed by the writings made by those who recorded “hearsay” the facts of the times.

Pride… A sin perhaps as great as that of murder... In fact, suicide... The gesture of killing yourself just for this sin seems to be capital...

Vergilius merely associated the existing information with Homer’s Odyssey and Iliad, written over 600 years earlier, trying to suggest that it was not the she-wolf of Romulus and Remus that laid the foundations of the future “great” Rome.

Written history has distorted the truth, even in the case of Spartacus, which was mutilated by the fact that histories are written by those who kill heroes to claim their true place.

Yes, even when I died in battle, alongside Spartacus, in the third slave revolt, another Thracian, the one not to be found on the battlefield, to be mocked for the sake of their power, history wrote something entirely about what I could have represented...

Then, shortly after, in the days of Burebista’s Great Dacian Trace, my pride was accentuated, with Rome being helped by Burebista in the war between Caesar and Pompey. As Strabo recorded...

But Pompey was defeated by Caesar before Burebista came to his aid, and then Caesar was killed by the Roman senators, shortly before the Dacian Tarabostes Assembly killed Burebista.

Then history would have taken a completely different course. Who remembers? Who would listen to the truth?

Like, who still remembers the records of Herodotus, who stated in his work “History” that the Dacians, as the Romans called them, or the Getae, as the Greeks called them, were “the bravest and most righteous of the Thracians”?

Or that Herodotus reported on their belief in immortality and in what had become the god Zamolxis, noting that the Dacians considered themselves immortal, believing that when they died, they went to Zamolxis?

Yes, Herodotus also mentioned in his works that the Thracians, if they had been united under one leadership and had a unity of thought, would have been, in his opinion, an invincible people.

Reality was shattered by the assassination of Burebista. Poor people who preferred to lose a true leader to the punishment of eternal division...

But, soon I returned to try to fight Rome being Decebalus…

The one to whom history records that Octavian, Caesar of Rome, paid tribute to Dacia... Until the same betrayal of the Thracian nation... Pride…

Left alone in front of only three legions of Trajan, in the fratricidal war that followed, as Trajan himself dictated in his memoirs, I fought until the last moment.

And I did not commit suicide, as Trajan’s column lies... I fought until my body was lost, like that of Spartacus, on the battlefield… Among those who invested their lives in a better life, without being forced to kneel...

Maybe pride has its price. Maybe… Strange balance…

Between a gladiator, a slave who asked Rome eight legions to defeat him, versus a king for whom the division of pride reduced the effort of the “masters” to only three legions to erase him from history...

But the memoirs of Trajan, which would have given a direct account of the conquest of Dacia, even if distorted according to the customs of the conquerors, have not survived to this day.

And, even if Trajan’s “Commentaries” are referenced, which would have described his military campaigns, including the Dacian ones, they are listed as lost, as are Crito’s “Getes,” which would have been another source of information about the Dacian wars.

In the absence of these chronicles, Trajan’s Column in Rome, with its detailed bas-reliefs, serves as a visual chronicle of the victor in the conflict between the Romans and the Dacians.

Since then, the Atlanteans, the Pelasgians, the Dacians, and their descendants, died out one by one.

Their descendants carried the power of war further in their confrontation with the desolating Mongolian east. Or the new upstarts of the crimes of the times... Hundreds, thousands of years… Generations after generations...

A few of us remained here, not wanting to react in any way. Weak, tired… Meaningless… Crushed by the debt of fate that mercilessly paid pride with humiliation and insignificance...

Even bearing the name “Romanians”, a pitiful stigma of the inheritance of fate… Taking our days from desolation to desolation, changing masters so often that even they don’t know who they belong to anymore...

Yes, I admit, I feel the anger of the memories!

No empire will last, no matter how civilizing it has been or will be… They have all died, shattered by the hurricane of fate’s debts…

Like an ascent that will climb you up to fall the higher you climb...

But a new day begins, a new morning… The first day of the rest of our days… Because life will always go on!

“Be open” to conclusions! — Created by the Author with AI — Microsoft Bing Image Creator
Each on his own way. Far from serving empires... Without us, without our debts, there would be nothing in the dust of time.

Note: Images are created by me, Merticaru Dorin Nicolae, using Microsoft Bing Image Creator.

Dorin, Merticaru (03.24, 2024)