The Legend of Alexandros: Belen Read Free

especially since he’d been told to hurry back.
    “I will travel down to the merchant to find him,” said Mabruk.
    Adina looked relieved. As Mabruk went into the house for his sword he suddenly heard her shout.
    “Mabruk look, the flames!” she cried.
    Terrified screams filled the village. Mabruk led Adina back into their home and ordered her to wait there. He ran outside again to find hordes of goblins making their way toward his house. He ran to them, charging at full force, and fought them off for as long as he could—but it was no use. The goblins outnumbered him. They broke into his home, pulled Adina out, and threw her to the ground.
    “Adina!” Mabruk shouted. “Leave her! Take me! And leave her!”
    As the goblins tied them down, another goblin on horseback approached. This goblin was slightly taller than the rest and wore dirty, royal-looking clothes.
    “Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” it said with a dry, gurgling voice. “You have aged, Mabruk, and not for the best.” Its face grew serious. “Did I not say I would return? You shall now pay for that mercy you gave me twenty years ago, Mabruk.”
    The goblin king would not allow Mabruk to speak. It ordered Adina to be brought forth. “My dear, your husband was foolish to allow me to live…and you…will pay for that stupidity.”
    She turned to Mabruk…tears filled her eyes. She shut them tightly, and just then her water broke. “Mabruk…” she said softly.
    The goblin king drew his rusted old sword and beheaded her.
    As Mabruk’s eyes filled with sorrow, the goblin king spit in his face.
    “Join your lady, Mabruk,” it said and beheaded Mabruk as well.
    The goblins destroyed the village, leaving no soul alive. They burned down homes and the fields. They torched the forests—then left through the now-barren forest behind the home of Alexandros family.
    The summer moon was now high in the sky. Alexandros slowly opened his eyes, his head was pounding with a great pain, and it hurt to think. He rose to his feet with difficulty. Extremely dizzy, he threw up on the side of the road. Drops of blood fell on the vomit, and he realized he had a gash on his forehead. He tore off a piece of his grey shirt and wrapped it around the wound. He noticed an orange light coming from the direction of his village. He tried to run toward the light, but every time he tried he fell to his knees; he was far too weak, so he walked, as fast as possible.
    The orange light guided him home; the thoughts of his village being invaded by those “goblins” gave him strength. As he drew closer he saw that the orange light were flames. A great fear grew inside of him. He reached the fields where the horses had run free and the children played. He saw there was nothing left but ashes; the bodies of mutilated horses lay burning on the ground. Alexandros hobbled into the village. Homes were burning. Blood filled the once green grass; flames filled the village.
    But where were the villagers? Maybe they escaped.
    Alexandros made his way home, praying his mother and father were alive. When he got to the hill where he’d been sitting that very morning he looked at his house…it was gone. His family’s little stone house, which had been around for generations, had been burned down. His father’s silver chest plate and helmet lay thrown on the ground.
    Sorrow filled his soul. Since birth Alexandros was taught to be the very best—how could he allow himself to be ambushed from behind? As he stared at the now barren forest he noticed several round objects hanging from dead branches. He cautiously stepped forward, and when he got to near enough to see…he saw the heads of all villagers.
    A cold chill rolled down his spine—the goblins were truly demons to the core.
    Alexandros spent the next hour cutting down the heads and burying them. As he hacked down the heads, he came across his good friend Roger’s. Deeper sadness fell upon Alexandros. He buried Roger separately from the