Helots Chapter 2

Year 3

Sparta, a famed city-state known for its militaristic culture and having its own children thrown off the cliff for not being strong enough. They rose into power in the Classical era and almost controlled all of Greece and then in the end they practically became a little village with famed mercenaries.

A hell hole where I have to be a soldier until I'm 60 and leave my home at 7 to become an expert in such. My whole life belongs to the state, whoever that "angel" is they must be laughing their ass off inside the pearly gates.

In my 3 years, I have mastered the Ancient Greek tongue and have adapted myself to acting my age. In my past life, I planned to major in history and despite Ancient Greece not being a key learning point for the major I still had a distinct interest in it. So at the very least, I can know what to expect in the future and hopefully not dawn too much of a painful existence.

Laurel has enjoyed giving me wine baths with the frequent statement of them being beneficial for my health as I try to reason with her on how that makes no sense. My rebuttals get rewarded by my thumb being bitten.

My primary caretaker and the housemaid Anataisha is a helot. I have come to learn this from the slurs Laurel dishes out. I feel horrible for the helots as they do no wrong and are the backbone of Spartan agriculture and outnumber us by a heavy margin around 7:1. They cannot rise in social classes only in the most obscure cases they can rise to even artisans. They were conquered by the Spartans in pre-700 BC and have been treated as halfway between slaves and serfs ever since.

I have been learning their ancient alphabet, numerical system, and all other things associated with common knowledge in the real world. Anatasha being my teacher and listening to my request for this to be kept secret. It doesn't need to be kept secret but I would prefer this to be kept to my advantage in case there is a future test where I would be underestimated in this sense.

Not only mentally have I been trying to hone in advantages but also physically as I always eat like a starving animal and make sure to pick the healthiest options to foster a physical presence. In my previous life I took the liberty of undereating and in turn, always being picked on. Now knowing my mistake I will not allow that to happen again.

"Young master please wake up, it's time for breakfast." Anastasia comes into my room as I sleep, she is a beautiful woman that would turn the hearts of any man. I'm under the assumption that she works as a domestic servant instead of a laborer like most helots due to her fragile build.

"Thank you Anastasia" I nod my head and smile. 

"Oh you are too sweet young master, I just might eat you up for breakfast haha." She laughs and I laugh back until her stomach grumbles.

I travel to our plain dining room and eat with my mother across from me. Anastasia doesn't eat breakfast with us as there is no kind dynamic held by Laurel with her so she instead is likely sweeping my room. Eventually, we finished and Laurel waved me to head out.

Food is still on the table to spare and I am much too full. Anastasia must be hungry herself. I walk to my room and look up at Anastasia. She is not by a far shot a tall woman but I am the tender age of 3.

"Anastasia I ate all of my food and there is nothing left. Are you proud of me?" I hand her a bowl of classic spartan blood soup and she gives me wide eyes.

"Now you know I can't accept that, I already have rations from my family back on the land."

"Accept what? There is no food left!" I thrust the bowl in front of her.

"Okay, I understand young master. You are much too sly for your own good." She then bends over and hugs me, warming me up with a smile. I then ran off to Laurel to make up for lost time.

"Damon, it's time for us to visit the markets. It will be great for Anastasia to make her pork soup for dinner." Laurel tells me with her striking brown eyes that leave no sign of warmth.

"Ok, Mother. Sooo when can I expect to see my father?" I ask while we walk through the city without holding hands since it is a sign of affection and in Spartan society such outward emotion can be a bad omen or my mother is just a cruel individual.

"Damon, he will be able to live with us in a few more years. Just be patient and walk more proudly." She answers devoid of emotion and her fierce gaze makes me listen to her demand.

"Yes, mother... Mother, do you yourself know how to cook?" I look out and see the enforced garments to be worn by helots passing by us consisting of poor animal skins as clothes and leather caps to mark their social class allowing any willing person to assault them if they find a private place too.

"Yes, but there is no need to. We have Anastasia to do it for us, her family has worked for our admittedly smaller plot of land for centuries. They are some of the best of the helot lineage one can ask for." 

We continue to scroll to the markets and purchase our items from the perioeci. They are middle-class citizens, commonly merchants and artisans. They are able to join the military on their own will but they are not able to participate in any sort of politics in the Spartan diarchy. The Spartan diarchy is a monarchy with 2 kings instead of one. This is so one king can defend our city while another can go and conquer any lands they deem fit or die trying to. Yet the main leading figures are the ephors who run for only one year and control the actions of the state.

We continue walking and see a common pastime of a couple of boys aged 13-17 kicking a large-sized helot man constantly in an alley.

"Please stop, I've done nothing!" the helots scream but the boys smile while kicking him, others pay no mind no matter what social class.

"You see the helots, you will become like them if you can't show your pure Spartan lineage. It will be your first taste in warfare by killing some of the helots for sport most likely. Just because you have trained well for your toilet duties since you were walking doesn't make you a true Spartan" she says chuckling.

"..Why isn't the helot fighting back he has a chance of winning?"

"Well that's simple, a Spartan can beat a helot but a helot can never beat a Spartan. Since if a helot did beat a spartan that is a criminal offense for a spartan could never lose to one unless a helot found a non-honorable way to win."

This shows how in ancient times people found a way to divide themself into classes and justify being better than a group of people. Ancient Sparta shares many characteristics of a Jim Crow USA or a modern-day China against the Uyghurs. 

Sadly I do understand the benefits of this as it weakens the helots and shames them to the point they never get the idea to use their numbers and take out the Spartan oppressors. Just like imperialism when slaves were brought over and not allowed to read so they saw nothing beyond their now which made them mentally weak.

 Yet I firmly believe there are much more moral ways and better ways to go about leading people through differences. Like Martin Luther King jr leading the civil rights movement or Nelson Mandela. Maybe though this is why I'm here, to make a different history of Sparta. Instead of a war-loving and eventually war-torn nation, I can instead make it a land of equality and prosperity. From here on out I want to put myself in the proper political situation to undo these early time acts of degeneracy, no matter how many aristocrats and opposers want to go against me.