Copyright © 2011 Albert Hernandez
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 146108489X
ISBN 13:9781461084891
eBook ISBN:978-1-61914-125-4
CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1: THE BEGINNING
CHAPTER II: A JOURNEY SET
CHAPTER III: EZADCIR, THE CENTAUR VILLAGE
CHAPTER IV: BUEHOOV
CHAPTER V: VILLAGE IN FLAMES
CHAPTER VI: VILLAGE IN FLAMES II
CHAPTER VII: THE INTERROGATION
CHAPTER VIII: THE MARSHLANDS
CHAPTER IX: CONFRONTATION
CHAPTER X: THE VOYAGER, PART ONE
CHAPTER XI: THE VOYAGER, PART TWO
CHAPTER XII: A STORY RARELY TOLD
CHAPTER XIII: THE VOYAGER, PART THREE
CHAPTER XIV: EVEDSATU
CHAPTER XV: NATION DESTROYED
CHAPTER XVI: TAKEN
CHAPTER XVII: OVUNAS
CHAPTER XVIII: LUCINDA
CHAPTER XIX: LYCAN FOREST-OVUNAS
CHAPTER XX: A HARPIES SONG
CHAPTER XXI: DREAM WALKER
CHAPTER XXII: PREPARATIONS
CHAPTER XXIII: SYTHRIL PALID…THE END
PROLOGUE
IT WAS A TIME LONG AGO, far longer than many can recall, a time when legends were history and mythical beast’s roamed the world. But although magical and enchanting, it was a time of Great War. As the goblins race numbered and their wickedness swept across the land, many fought back with no avail. Mabruk Alexandros, a born warrior stood up to the goblin horde stopping them from conquering his home village. Mabruk gathered the warriors from his village, but it was hopeless. Far too strong the goblins defeated Mabruk’s forces. Refusing to surrender, it was then Mabruk left his village and searched for warriors as mighty as he. And thus was formed the new army, led by Mabruk and four other great leaders of their time, the new army of four races all united to face the goblins for one cause, to save the world. But hidden within this war was a more sinister evil. One that had used this war as a cover for his own master plan, and as he used this war and the beings whom fought in it as pawns… he waited….
CHAPTER 1
THE BEGINNING
GOBLINS ARE CREATURES that live underground in dark, dank mountains and mines. Goblins have amazing eyesight in even the darkest of places, and they climb walls as if they were spiders. Goblins are not the smartest of creatures; they rarely think for themselves and always with an ally who promises them great things.
Long ago high in the mountains of Heshuezo, mountains so dark and sinister that even the bravest of warriors refused to venture through them, lived the goblins. The goblins were cowardly but evil heartless creatures. They hunted at night and prayed upon the weak; from time to time the goblins would gather in numbers to hunt a mighty warrior for their wicked pleasing.
The goblin army, who at one point was no real threat to the world, had banded together with the help of an unknown ally and declared war against four land dwellers—man, centaur, Amazon, and lycan. The goblins, with the help of their powerful ally, traveled down from their mountains and began to overpower their opponents. Man lost the first battle in a blood bath. In their last attempt, man took the battle to Heshuezo where the goblins had regrouped and faced off in a most heated battle with the Goblins.. The next battle raged on for days with no end in sight.
A truce had been set by the four races, for just a short time ago they themselves were at war with one another. Mabruk Alexandros, leader of the human army, was a young warrior with a family back at his home village. Mabruk was a powerful speaker and an amazing leader and for many months he had led the human army against the goblins. Tobias the centaur king, too, had a family back home, and the rising centaur nation banded together with man to battle against the goblins. Cassandra, the Amazon queen, stood incredibly tall and graceful; her beauty was striking, and by her people she was made queen—the youngest queen to lead the Amazons into battle. Maddoc, the lycan leader, stood a giant nine feet tall with shaggy grayish black fur. He was the most powerful lycan of his clan. Maddoc in battle was ferocious and swift.
The four nations gathered their best warriors to face the fearsome goblin army. The rising of the goblins had taken the land by storm, and if only the four nations had paid attention and not bickered amongst themselves the war may never have been.
The battle raged on throughout the dry summer night; the slaughtered bodies of goblins, centaurs, Amazons, and lycans lay dead on the fields. The lycans howled and slashed the goblins; Amazons shot arrows and launched giant spears from the surrounding hills; men and centaur took the battle head on to the goblins.
The goblin king stood quivering in fear behind the last standing goblin warrior. Mabruk came forward and at last pierced the goblin warrior; Mabruk pulled his sword out of the goblin warrior’s chest and glanced upward at the goblin king. Tobias, Cassandra, and Maddoc ran towards Mabruk as he began chastise the goblin king.
“You have broken every law of man, centaur, Amazon, and lycan!” Mabruk screamed to the goblin leader “And for that. Your sentence is death!” Mabruk’s booming voice echoed through the mountains.
The goblin leader fell to his knees. “Please…” it said with a trembling voice. “Have mercy on me.”
“You coward,” the centaur Tobias said to the goblin. Mabruk spit in its face. The creature looked down in shame.
“Shall we grant this creature mercy?” Cassandra asked in disgust. “Kill him,” said the lycan leader. “…and be rid of this plague once and for all.”
Mabruk, Tobias, Cassandra, and Maddoc argued for several hours about what should become of the goblin leader.
“What should be done with this foul rat?” Mabruk asked.
“I say we kill him and finally be done with the goblins for good,” Maddoc said with a deep growl. “For too long they have caused nothing but trouble for everyone.”
“Killing him will not be enough; he needs to pay for his crime against us,” said Cassandra, tossing her long blonde hair behind her. “Lock him away in his filthy mountains for all eternity.”
“What do you think?” Maddoc asked, very much annoyed. “He will surely at some time escape and wage war once again.”
“Silence!” Tobias shouted. “Mabruk, what do you feel we should do with this goblin beast?”
Mabruk and the others finally agreed to banish the creature and its surviving followers to the underground for all eternity. Mabruk and Tobias escorted the goblins and their king deep into the mountain’s underground mines. They chained the goblins to the ground and left them there.
“You should have killed me,” the goblin leader king hissed. “I shall return someday…and you all shall be the ones pleading for your worthless lives.”
“I dare you to return…and if the day comes, I shall be ready for you,” said Mabruk.
“We shall see…” the goblin leader whispered to himself.
Mabruk and Tobias returned to the battlefield and were approached by the Amazon queen and lycan leader.
“Mabruk Alexandros, I am in your debt,” she said with gratitude. “In the future if there is anything you need, please do not be afraid to ask.”
“I am also in your debt…but our truce is done now,” the lycan Maddoc added, hissing and growling. “Do not bother my kind again, Mabruk.”
The centaurs, Amazons, and Mabruk formed a peace treaty; the lycans traveled back to their lands. Soon the Amazons went on their way as well. Mabruk and Tobias grew close, forming a great friendship. The centaur nation built a neighboring village a few miles away from Souvaolo, which they n
amed “Ezdacir,” to continue their newfound friendship with man. Years past, and the goblins had remained to be seen. Mabruk returned home to his wife, and together they had a son. Tobias also returned to his family, and, throughout the seasons, Mabruk and Tobias traveled the lands with one another; although they drifted apart, they always remembered the great battle the two had survived.
TWENTY-TWO WINTERS LATER…
A warrior is a person experienced in or capable of engaging in combat or warfare. Warriors often form a caste or class of their own; their code, however, is followed to the death.
It was like any other simple summer morning in the village of Souvaolo. People built homes out of stone to protect against the harsh seasons. Farmers gathered crops and milked cows; their fields were lush green, and the trees reached as high as the sky. Crystal clear lakes and beautiful green forests surrounded the peaceful village—Souvaolo was a true paradise.
Besides the lakes, the forests, and the beautiful fields, it was also the home of the Alexandros family, mighty warriors of their time known to the world as the very best and the bravest. Mabruk was husband and father of two: a strong son and one child on the way. Mabruk stood six-foot-five and very much in shape for a man in his mid-fifties. His skin was pale; his eyes brown; his hair long and dark, and it reached down his back, though he mostly kept it tied up. He was a loving husband and father, although a stern man with little patience. He ran his family with a firm hand and expected things to go his way.
Mabruk’s wife, Adina, was the most beautiful woman in the village. She had long, light-brown hair with beautiful round blue eyes and pink full lips. Adina was close to eight month’s pregnant with her second child, and she could not have been any happier. It had taken her so long to get pregnant again, and she could not hide her excitement. Her spirit was that of a true wanderer, full of life and wanting adventure, but she knew her place was to care for her family, and, like most women of her village she had little or no say on what went on in her home.
Their son was Belen Alexandros, a young man of twenty-four years with eyes as light blue as the sky. He, like his father, was tall at six-feet and had a body that filled the village men with envy; his hair was dark like his father’s and reached just passed his shoulders; his lips were full like his mother’s. The men of the Alexandros family were powerful warriors; each boy from birth was trained to be outstanding in battle.
The summer morning had begun like any other; the soft breeze blew off the trees sending a sweet scent across the land. On a hill top next to a flowing crystal clear creek sat Belen Alexandros, sharpening his massive sword—a sword given to him by his grandfather, and it was the boy’s pride, so he kept it in the best shape. The sword had a black handle with a shining crest of a harpy eagle carved into it. The gleaming silver blade, appearing almost white in the reflecting sun, was wide with a long reach. Alexandros wore brown knee-high boots and a grey work shirt—his shirt was so baggy and worn he needed a belt to keep it on properly. He also wore his favorite black tights. While sharpening his sword, he glanced up every now and then to watch the villagers scurry about doing their daily routine. The village baker for one never seemed to get up early enough and was always in a rush. His wife would always end up shouting at him causing a big scene…but they seemed to make up by the end of the day like nothing ever happened. The village blacksmith rarely ever slept and had permanent bags under his eyes.
“Alexandros!” his father yelled from the front step of their home. “Come in, my boy! Your mother has made breakfast.”
Alexandros gathered up his things, then jogged down the hill and walked up to his front door, where his mother greeted him.
“Come eat something, Belen,” she said with her soft voice—only she called him by his first name.
His home had close to no furniture. The sitting room was small and round with a medium-sized window at the far end; the room had one couch, two leather chairs, and a small round table in the center of the room. They passed the sitting room and went on to the dining room—which looked somewhat like the sitting room but with a fireplace—where Mabruk sat waiting. As his mother served them breakfast, Alexandros and his father sat around a round table and ate.
“Alexandros, my boy,” his father said. “I need you to run this afternoon to the merchant outside of town.”
“The one near the creek with the waterfall?” Alexandros asked.
“Yes. Drake needs a new pair of horse shoes.”
Mabruk had been raising Drake, his only horse, since his teen years. Drake was a true black Friesian horse. Drake was in his old age now, but from time to time Mabruk took him out for a good run.
After everyone had eaten, Alexandros decided to head over to the merchant and take advantage of the sun still being high. Mabruk walked him to the road that led outside of town, thanked him for going to the merchant, and asked him to hurry back home. According to some, “goblin” creatures had been sighted burning down local villages; most villagers, however, did not believe in the tales, for goblins had been driven underground more than twenty years ago. But, to be on the safe side, Alexandros agreed to hurry home. He began making his way down the rocky dirt road when he heard someone call out to him.
“Alexandros!”
Alexandros turned to find his childhood friend Roger running up toward him. Roger was lanky and skinny; he had short, light-red hair and stood about five-feet-eight. His clothes were neat, even though his family always seemed to work the fields early in the morning. His eyes were round and light brown; he had many freckles all over his face. His skin was pale; many of the villagers joked by calling him the village ghost.
“Are you still going to teach me the proper ways to hold a sword?” Roger asked with a smile. “I know my last attempt was not one I wish to remember but I still want to learn.”
“Of course, but before that I must make a run to the merchant. I will come find you as soon as I arrive.” Alexandros replied.
“Oh…you are going to see the old merchant by the creek?” Roger asked with a sour face. “He sold us cheap horse shoes not too long ago. I hate him, plus he smells like spoiled eggs.”
Alexandros shrugged and let out a small laugh. “My father wants the horse shoes from him; I am just going to pick them up. If I had a choice I would travel across seas before I would buy a thing from him. I should be on my way, but once I return I will surely come find you.”
“Great, I will be waiting by the fields near my home. Do not forget me.”
Roger turned, waved, and ran off down the road back to the village.
Beautiful green fields surrounded the horses as they ran free and grazed; children played in the warm morning sunlight—it was a most magical sight. As Alexandros walked down the road he wondered if the “goblin” stories were real. The thoughts worried him, and he tried to push them out of his head. It took close to an hour to reach the creek with the small waterfall, and as always the smelly old, long-bearded merchant was there.
“Well, friend, what can I get for you today?” the merchant asked. “Maybe a fancy sword case or maybe a new sword itself to go with the new sword case?”
“No. None of that. I am here for some horse shoes, and this time I want good ones, not those cheap shoes you sold my father the last time.”
The merchant stood silent for a moment before finally pulling out the better horse shoes from his haggard old wagon.
“I must have missed these…” The Merchant answered in a skittish voice.
Alexandros quickly bought the horse shoes and set back on returning home. The road did not feel as peaceful as it did earlier; it had a haunting feeling as if it had been crossed by something that never should have stepped foot on it. He quickened his pace. The afternoon sun was still somewhat high in the sky, but as he reached closer to his village he saw a group of about thirty men—small men walking hunched over. They were no more than about four-foot-three with dirty old bronzed armor; as they walked, the little men dragged their swords along the ro
cky dirt road. Alexandros slowed his pace upon realizing their skin was a dark greenish color—these were not men at all …. …they were goblins!
For the first time in his life, Alexandros was afraid—not for himself but for the safety of his family and friends in his village. He began to draw his sword when a mighty blow to the back of his head sent him crashing face-first to the ground. His vision blurred as a goblin kneeled down and looked him in the eye. The creature’s face was disgusting and horrifying; one eye was missing, the other as red as blood; its teeth were razor sharp and its skin was grayish green. The creature yanked Alexandros by his hair; its sharp claws dug into his scalp. He slammed Alexandros’ face into the ground, knocking him unconscious.
Back in the village of Souvaolo, Adina grew terribly worried. It had been hours since Alexandros had left.
“What on earth is taking him so long, Mabruk?”
“Adina you truly do worry too much, Alexandros is a man now. I am positive he is fine,” Mabruk said with a small laugh.
The couple sat on the small hill in front of their stone house and watched the sun begin to set. Mabruk put his arm around her; she rested her head on his shoulder. Mabruk kissed her forehead.
“What shall we name this new baby, my dear?” He asked with a soft caring voice.
“Oh, I have thought of several names so far.” “That is not fair—you named Belen,” Adina giggled. “Very well, then, what do you think we should call her?”
“How are you certain it is a girl, Adina?”
“How are you certain it is another boy, Mabruk?”
The married couple playfully argued for some time before they dropped the entire conversation. The sun had completely set; the moon was high in the sky. Mabruk was now worried for his son. It was not like Alexandros to be so long, 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.
The Legend of Alexandros: Belen Page 1
