The Legend of Alexandros: Belen Read Free Page A

others. When he got to his mother and father, he cried for the first time ever in his life…it was pain like no other; no wound had ever hurt as muche buried them beside Roger on the hill near their home.
    Alexandros felt nothing but emptiness. He sat beside the graves and mourned the loss of those closest to him. Rage filled his body—he wanted vengeance.
    He made his way over to the trees where the severed heads hung and glanced down at the ground. When he noticed tracks by the dead trees that were similar to the tracks on the dirt road, he followed the tracks into the dank barren forest; running for miles —he followed them until he reached the light from the goblins’ resting camp. Then he charged into them from the trees.
    The Goblins were shocked that one man would challenge them. The goblins lunged and clawed at Alexandros; they pulled down on his clothes slashing claw marks into them. Alexandros, acting on pure wrathful emotion, lifted and tossed the goblins, slamming them up against trees. With his knee, he broke their backs and threw their limp bodies to the ground. He drew his sword and beheaded goblins charging toward him. He showed no mercy. He slaughtered anything that moved.
    “You are a brave and foolish warrior,” a voice said.
    Alexandros, blood dripping down his face, turned to see the goblin king on horseback.
    “I thought I killed you on the road, but I underestimated you,” the king hissed.
    Alexandros said nothing. He stepped forward to the goblin king, but his personal guards stood before of their leader, who wore broken bronzed royal armor; his purple cape was dirty and ripped with holes, and his crown appeared cracked and brittle.
    “I hope to see you soon,” the goblin king said with a ghoulish smile and rode off, the rest of his personal guards followed hastily on foot. Alexandros allowed them their escape, for he was far too weak to go on. In a short time, he had slaughtered several of the goblins; parts of goblins laid on the ground, his sword and face dripped with their blood—it looked as though he had been the one attacked.
    Alexandros used a log from their fire to burn down the camp. As it went up in flames, he made his way back through the cold dank forest. What seemed like a second to cross earlier, now took him the remainder of the night.
    Tears filled his eyes.
    If only I had been home…
    He made it back before dawn and walked through the torched village; the morning sun gave light to the goblin’s devastation. He went to the hill where his family and Roger were buried. As he stood over the burial site, he spoke to his mother and father.
    “… I am so sorry I was not here to defend you. I will not stop until I have ended everything and anything responsible for your deaths…I promise you I will never fail you again.” His voice was full of sorrow and despair. Tears fell from his eyes. “These monsters shall know what true pain really is…”
    Alexandros walked back down the rocky dirt road out of Souvaolo, heading for the old merchant. The summer sun came down hard. His vision was hazy, and he was terribly dehydrated; he walked, barely even lifting his feet, until he made it to the merchant’s wagon.
    The old man ran to Alexandros.
    “By the gods, my boy, what on earth has befallen you?” the Merchant said with great
    concern, Alexandros stared into the merchant’s eyes, and with a deep dry voice he answered. “Evil…”

CHAPTER II

    A JOURNEY SET

     
    T ears fell from the merchant’s wrinkled face. Just the look of sorrow on Alexandros’ face made the merchant cry even more.
    “Come, come rest my boy,” the merchant said softly.
    Alexandros fell over and landed hard on his back; he stared up at the early morning sky. The merchant kneeled down to him and watched as Alexandros’ eyes rolled, and he passed out.
    The merchant placed Alexandros in the back of his wagon. He packed his goods, grabbed his horse, tied it to the wagon, and took the boy down the road