Along time ago on a planet far far away
Simeon lay dying on some nameless plain in a territory the light headed man had forgotten the name of. Crimson tinged froth bubbled from the impaled man's lips as he tried to draw in ragged breaths, tried to haul himself to his feet. It was impossible though he was too weak to move his cuirass and other amour weighing him down, what had once protected the member of the hetairoi now only added to his suffering.
Around the man the battle raged on, other members of the royal Ile fought and some of them too would be unhorsed perhaps to die on the ground at the hands of enemy infantry like Simeon or perhaps to wield their Kopis and fight to yet another victory for the Macedonian empire. Either way Simeon would never know their fate. The once proud soldier and nobleman was practically gone now his senses fading away and his mind already blank, there were no thoughts of battle, or pain, no thoughts of home and his family.
One mans lost life would not end in defeat for his ruler though and that great conquering spirit was also carried in Simeons own soul, a soul bound for reincarnation in the strangest of ways and places.