Book 1, Chapter Three: The Taming of Bucephalus, Pages 49 and 50

whose origins are as peculiar and strange as a medieval creature:

(on the left page are collages of medieval illuminations of Bucephalus in the past: as a giant goat, a three-horned horse and a unicorn all in chains and encaged, interspersed with drawings of Philip's men getting owned by this webcomic's version of Bucephalus)

Some poets and painters believed this horse was a monstrous man-eater.

They recounted stories of how Philip locked it in a cage since foalhood, fed on a rich, steady diet of criminals gnawed down to their marrow.

Other accounts are more sober. This horse, an import from a merchant, was simply stubborn and antsy.

Untameable.

So you see, my friends, how difficult a task it is for Philip his men and all those who attempted before them,

to tame this steel-willed steed. Watching from a safe distance, his men in bruises and bandages,

Philip places his hands on his waist, and utters matter-of-factly,

"So the saying's true, then."

"Eh?" Philonicus asks.

"Nothing good can truly exist without some evil in it."

"I-indeed!" says Philonicus.

"On second thought," Philip concludes. "I will pass."

Philonicus sighs in regret. "For the best."

Philip kneels to comfort his disappointed son. "Come, Alexander-teknon. I saw some fine stallions you m–"

"NO!"

This is Alexander, impulsive and quick to temper.

Only after his outburst he remembers that he is speaking in public to his father, the king.

He corrects himself, with a huff.

"I mean..."