The Legend of Alexandros: Belen

by Mr. A. C. Hernandez

  “This is pointless,” said Mabruk. “There is nothing haunting these woods. It must have been a wild animal of some sort.”

  “I cannot agree more,” said Tobias. “I say we take one more look around then head off to the inn.”

  As the two took their final look around the village, Mabruk realized he no longer smelled garlic. Mabruk walked back to the inn and heard hissing voices as the hazy fog had begun to roll in. Tobias and Mabruk stood side by side as the fog circled them. The fog filled the village—but the people of the village had placed thin silver beams in front of their homes for protection, and the fog would never venture close to the silver.

  “Do not be afraid… “a voice hissed. “It will all be over soon…”

  “Yes, it will be over,” cried Mabruk. “As soon as you show yourself.”

  A figure leaped ferociously out of the hazy fog, pouncing onto Mabruk. It was a woman. Her hair was long, dark brown, and flowing; her skin deathly pale; her nails incredibly sharp. She had rose-red lips, and her eyes in the darkness glowed bright red. The woman revealed to them her fangs, and she slashed and bit Mabruk several times. With a most powerful gallop Tobias kicked the woman with his front legs, sending her crashing face-first to the ground. The woman jumped back up to her feet, not even fazed by the powerful kick, and ran straight to Tobias. She lunged into the air and, with her sharp talon-like claws, slashed his face, causing a long gash starting from the side of his forehead reaching his chin. Mabruk, who had been knocked down for a moment, jumped up to his feet and ran to the nearest home. With great strength, he ripped the long silver beam from the home’s door. Mabruk ran back to the woman and grabbed the woman by her hair and began to pierce her repeatedly in the back with the sharp end of the silver beam. She let out a horrific scream. Blood splattered everywhere as he kept piercing her with the beam until she fell to her knees, blood spilling from her mouth, stifling her screams. Mabruk lifted her by her arm and foot, then, with all his might, tossed her in an old pathway toward the mountains, sending her crashing into trees as she landed back into the forest.

  She crawled off towards the high mountains, unleashing a nightmarish screech. The strong smell of ale then filled the air. Mabruk, who had run to her body, noticed that the garlic, which earlier had been hung onto the trees, was now half buried and hidden away. Mabruk stared at her as she got up and ran to safety. Mabruk went back to check on a wounded Tobias, who held the side of his face tightly applying pressure to his wound.

  “Do you still doubt the villagers now?” Tobias asked.

  “My friend, I think it is time I visit the tavern keeper.”

  Tobias slowly headed back to the inn to treat his wound, while Mabruk returned to the tavern to talk with its keeper. Mabruk kicked open the tavern’s wooden door. The tavern keeper spun around from behind the bar, nearly jumping out of his skin. Mabruk slowly approached the tavern bar, staring into the keeper’s eyes.

  “I could never figure out why everyone in this village had some sort of protection in front of their homes and why you did not, and not until tonight did it come to me. You were the only one in the village who would keep his business open past dark and for someone who was most afraid of vampires, that was very brave of you, friend,” said Mabruk. “As the sun would set, you would remove all the garlic surrounding the village and place it back as the sun rose before the others even noticed it was gone. Those are your people, you heartless spineless coward!” Mabruk slammed a fist onto the bar knocking over cups and plates.

  A rage boiled inside the tavern keeper, and he, too, pounded repeatedly onto the bar.

  “I HATE THEM! I HATE ALL OF THEM! THEY TREAT ME LIKE NOTHING! AND NOW I WILL BE BETTER THAN THEM. I WILL SOON BE SO MUCH MORE!”

  Mabruk jumped over the bar, grabbed the tavern keeper by his throat, and cried, “You are the lowest thing I have ever set my sights on; you are nothing more than a coward and a snake!”

  A nervous look took over the tavern keeper’s face as Mabruk tossed him over the bar and dragged him outside by the back of his neck. The sun had risen, and the villagers began to step out of their homes. Mabruk slammed the tavern keeper on the ground to his knees.

  “Good people of Obunvi!” cried Mabruk. “Your friend the tavern keeper has much to tell you.”

  Night Three

  The full moon was now high in the night sky. The villagers learning what the tavern keeper was up to had beaten him to a bloody pulp—not even Mabruk could stop them, nor did he want to. Now only Mabruk, Tobias, and the badly beaten tavern keeper remained in the now ghost-like village.

  “You are the lowest of all humans I have ever met,” said Tobias to the tavern keeper. “What you were doing is the most disgusting thing ever.” He turned to Mabruk. “Please tell me again why he was doing all this?”

  “For riches and immortality,” said Mabruk. “The vampires would pay him in treasures and promised to turn him into one of their own after everyone in the village was dead. He would sneak out after dark and remove all the silver and garlic so the vampires would be able to enter. He marked his tavern with the red symbol so the creatures would know where not to attack.”

  Just then a thick fog rolled in—and without warning, a man stood before them. He seemed to be in his early thirties and had strong look of maturity; he stood tall around six feet, three inches, and he had broad shoulders and long legs. He was thin, incredibly handsome, and, like the other vampire he was deathly pale. He had long black hair that reached down his back. He wore all black as he stepped out of the fog.

  “Look at what we have here,” the vampire said sarcastically to the beaten and bloody tavern keeper. “Our friend Henry the tavern keeper, and might I add…you smell delicious.”

  “And who are you?” asked Mabruk.

  “Introductions in a moment—let me take care of one thing first,” said the vampire said with a death like voice. Then, suddenly, he appeared behind the tavern keeper and without even using full strength snapped his neck all the way around. The vampire dusted off his hands as his fangs grew. “Now let me introduce myself. I am called William, leader and king of vampires. Let us have a nice long talk, you two.”

  Mabruk and Tobias drew their weapons.

  “What could we possibly have to say to one another, demon?” Tobias asked.

  “You two lower beings killed someone very near and dear to me. Do you know what it is like to put someone you care for out of their misery?” William appeared sorrowful. “I do not think you do…”

  “That monster from last night?” asked Mabruk. “Yes, I killed her; I pierced her over and over.”

  The vampire snarled. “It would be wise not to anger me, human…I have yet to eat tonight…”

  Mabruk charged the vampire, slashing at it, but the vampire easily dogged the attacks.

  “So you wish to fight? Very well…” The vampire’s eyes changed from light blue to flaming red. “But I hope you were not foolish to think I would be coming alone.” He snapped his fingers three times—and out of the shadows six more vampires appeared. They snarled and hissed at the young warriors.

  Mabruk charged the vampire, who again dodged his attack. He grabbed Mabruk from behind, lifting him into the air and tossing him to the ground. Mabruk fell with the force of a boulder. He staggered to his feet, only for the vampire to appear in front of him. The vampire clawed Mabruk in the chest and tossed him again, this time sending Mabruk crashing on the outside wall of what used to be the weapon maker’s home.

  The other snarling vampires surrounded Tobias. He slashed the air around him to keep them at bay. Mabruk rose to his feet, using the home as leverage, and then began to laugh at the vampire.

  “I see nothing funny about dying, foolish human,” said the vampire. “In fact, I should be the one laughing at how pathetic you are.”

  Mabruk then became very serious. “You said before I was the foolish one to come alone; well, you see beast, I am not alone…”

  The villagers sprung from their
homes wielding silver stakes and crossbows with silver-tipped arrows the village weapons maker had designed. The villagers shot arrows at the vampires, piercing their hearts, killing them instantly. The vampires crashed to the ground. Their skin turned as hard as stone; the skin cracked and crumbled, until finally the vampires burst into flames.

  Mabruk gave the order, and villagers hiding high in the trees dropped a chain net made entirely of silver onto the vampire leader. The chains burned his skin and slowly began to melt his flesh. The vampire leader fell to his knees and curled into a ball. But to the horror of the villagers he began to sprout huge dark wings from his back, and, as he began to rise, Mabruk jumped directly onto him and impaled him repeatedly with the silver beam he used to slay the vampire from the previous night. The vampire leader then lay unmoving on the ground, his fellow vampire clan bursting into flames around him.

  “Tonight, you have died…a true death,” Mabruk said to William the vampire in a deep raspy whisper.

  That night the villagers moved the vampires’ burnt remains high into the hills. Before sunrise, Mabruk and Tobias were already on the road, never again wanting to return to the village of Obunvi. Mabruk was severely clawed and bandaged up; Tobias wore an eye patch he had made from an old grey fabric.

  “So where are we off to now?” Tobias asked, sounding more exhausted than ever.

  “Tobias,” said Mabruk. “I am going home. I wish to see my wife and child again…and I never want to see a dark road for as long as I live.”

  TWENTY WINTERS LATER…

  The cave was dark and cold and filled with vampires feeding on the bodies of men who traveled on their hills. Sitting on his throne made of human remains of villagers from Obunvi sat the vampire king William. He placed his feet upon the mountain of human skulls that surrounded his throne.

  “You will be able to seek your vengeance,” said Barbarious to the vampire king. “Maybe not on Mabruk himself, but on his son…Belen Alexandros.”

  The vampire king slowly rose to his feet. “So Mabruk is dead, and now his son travels to avenge his honor?”

  “I want you to do what your kind does best…” replied Barbarious.

  “You want me to kill the son of the man that almost killed me…he will wish he was never born…” The vampire said with horrific grin.

  Barbarious laughed out loud and said, “No…I want you to kill his friends…”

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE VOYAGER,

  PART THREE

  The group had been at sea on the cargo ship The Voyager for two weeks. They were restless and bored, and even Winston had run out of his eternity-long stories. Alexandros and Elora spent most of their time together, alone, and their bond had grown greater than ever. Raphael was still in his mystical slumber. Bixbin remained on deck training from sunrise to sunset, and Alistair stood most days with his body leaning over the side of the ship vomiting from sea-sickness.

  All day the ship sailed rather smoothly under beautiful clear skies and a cool sea breeze. The crew of The Voyager was excited—in another day they would be on land. The captain of the ship directed the crew to carefully gather up the special barrels of oils they were transporting to the small village near Evedsatu. In the sky, Winston soared freely without worry. He would swoop down and splash into the water then fly back up in the sky. Alexandros watched him as he aided Alistair. The hustle and bustle of the ship made everyone somewhat excited as the crew prepared for the next day’s docking. They whistled and danced to the tunes they created and hopped around, clicking their heels and clapping their hands.

  Alexandros watched the crew dancing like fools, shaking his head.

  How could anyone act in such a way? Did their father and mother not teach them how to behave? Mahruk would have had me chopping wood all night if I behaved like that.

  Alexandros then directed his thoughts toward Alistair. Poor Alistair…such a powerful wizard yet he could not stand the rocking of the ship. Then he saw that Princess Elora had learned the silly little dance and was jumping around with the crew. How beautiful she looked dancing, Alexandros thought. Her long black hair flowed all around her as she moved.

  “Tell her how you feel,” a voice said calmly.

  Alexandros looked around suspiciously, slowly scanning the area.

  “Oh, will you relax, Belen!” the voice demanded sarcastically. “It is I, Alistair.”

  “How on earth are you doing this?” a confused Alexandros asked.

  “Dear boy, thank the gods for your dashing good looks. I am an all-powerful wizard…I am reading your mind.”

  “Do not insult me wizard, at least I am able to move about the ship without vomiting all I have eaten my entire life.”

  “Tell her how you feel, Belen…”

  Alexandros rolled his eyes—if there was one thing he hated more than Barbarious and the goblin horde, it was speaking about his feelings.

  “I do not know what you mean, Alistair. Elora is a dear friend, and that is all.”

  Alistair rose up from his doubled-over position and, before he could say a word, Alexandros gently shook him by the shoulders, causing the seasick wizard to turn his head quickly and vomit overboard.

  The sun had fully set, and the stars and moon filled the night sky. The Voyager crew remained on deck to prepare for the morning docking, but were courteous to their sleeping passengers in the cargo area. In the small room, everyone but Alexandros and Elora slept. The room was warm and dark; the only light came from a lantern resting near Raphael’s feet. Elora sat extremely close to Alexandros as they sat on the floor, leaning their backs against the wall.

  “Belen,” Elora whispered gently.

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Thinking back on how we had met and the events that led to it, with all the tragedy that surrounded us at the time, I feel meeting you has had to be the best thing to ever happen to me. My father was so hopeful that one day I would meet a prince, who would capture my heart, but in my time living in the kingdom, I have met three princes, and they were all shallow and cruel, but you…you are amazing.” Elora rested her head on his shoulder.

  “I am far from amazing, princess…I am a mess,” Alexandros confessed. “I can barely hold things together. Things are so very far from what I set them to be, at this time I should be kicking Barbarious’ head into a black lake, and yet I am here rushing off to the elves.”

  “Please promise me this; that once this is all over…you do not lose yourself. Do not allow evil to corrupt and steal what you are.”

  “And what am I?”

  “You are a hero.”

  He smiled at her, and he leaned in slowly to gently kiss her forehead. His skin grew warm as she brushed the hair away from his face; their hearts raced and all their worries seemed to vanish into nothing as they prepared for a real kiss…when just then a loud crashing thud shook the room.

  Alexandros jumped to his feet and drew his sword. The sound of running footsteps came from above them. Then the horrifying screams of death were heard. Alexandros woke up Bixbin with a jerk.

  “Huh? What is wrong? Have we arrived?” Bixbin asked with a yawn.

  “No…there is something unwelcomed aboard this ship,” said Alexandros.

  Bixbin’s look of sleepiness faded as he lifted his hammer. Together they cautiously opened the old wooden door in the room, stepped out, and closed the door behind them. An eerie silence filled the once busy ship; not a sound from anything but the crashing waves. Alexandros led the way up the cargo area stairs to the cargo area. The cool night breeze howled and hissed all around the now vacant ship.

  “Where is everyone? They have vanished…” whispered Bixbin.

  Alexandros and Bixbin walked slowly from the bow to stern and saw the oil barrels completely knocked over leaking and spilling out. As they passed the barrels, the crew appeared…and they were everywhere. Limbs were scattered all over the ship, the deck soaked in blood, the captain strung up in between two high beams—bound in an unsightly grote
sque pose.

  Alexandros cut down the captain, the body landing hard against the deck. Suddenly from above three creatures flapped their huge wings. The monsters were pale and ghoulish; their feet cloven, and they had incredibly sharp claws. The mouths were wide and their teeth small and sharp, except for two long sharp fangs. Their eyes were narrow and blood red, and although mostly bald the winged creatures had tuffs of black hair scattered along their heads. Their ears were short and pointed; their wings insanely large enough to almost cover the night sky. The creatures landed on the ship with a loud thud; they hissed and snarled at Alexandros and Bixbin.

  “What are they?” cried Bixbin.

  The beast that stood in the center of the three crouched forward hissing and teasing the young dwarf warrior; the beast then lunged forward even closer, slamming Bixbin to the ground. Alexandros, weapon drawn, began to charge, but before he could move Bixbin jumped back up to his feet and with a swing of his powerful hammer bashed the beast in the face, tearing off its head. Blood poured out and splattered everywhere as the creature’s body fell to the ground twitching.

  Elora, still in the small cargo room, woke Alistair and Winston.

  “Alistair, please what are we to do?” Elora asked frantically.

  Alistair stuttered to answer, but not a word escaped him. Anger filled the princess as she grabbed the wizard by the arm.

  “I cannot believe you! You are supposedly one of the most powerful wizards ever to be, and you have not a clue as what to do. You have spent so long as that old smelly cowardly merchant that you have forgotten what it is to be a wizard. Belen could die and you are to do nothing? Winston…bring Raphael; we are all leaving…”

  Elora led her small group up the stairs to the deck, where they found Bixbin and Alexandros in a most heated battle.

  “What are those things?” asked Elora.

  “They are vampires…” said Alistair.

  Alexandros, almost as quick as light itself, ran toward the body of the captain and pulled the rope from around the corpse. With the rope in hand he leaped into the air at the gliding creature and wrapped the rope around the beast’s neck. As Alexandros came back down he yanked on the rope, causing the creature to crash hard onto the deck. Alexandros stomped on the creature’s chest; he lifted his sword, slashing it down hard on the monster’s neck trying to hack it off. Just then the second vampire creature that had been battling Bixbin turned to Alexandros and, with a fast hard swipe, clawed the young warrior on the shoulder.