The Legend of Alexandros: Belen (13 page)

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 grotesque 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.

Rage built up inside Winston, and, as he hovered a small distance from the ship, he unwittingly dropped the centaur Prince Raphael into the sea. Alistair dove into the sea after the centaur. He struggled to keep Raphael from sinking, but Raphael was much too heavy. Elora then removed her long, thick, heavy black cloak and jumped overboard. Together Elora and Alistair managed to keep Raphael afloat.

Winston began to transform; his winter snow scales turned fire red, and his purple eyes turned coal black. He charged at the vampire creatures; he landed hard and heavy on the deck before Alexandros and Bixbin. The stunned vampires looked on at the suddenly sinister Dragon; Winston opened his mouth and with a mighty rage-filled roar breathed fire all over the monsters, engulfing them in flames. They crashed everywhere as they tried to fly off, but Winston hurled even more flames into them. Fire blazed everywhere on the ship— Alexandros, Bixbin, and Winston now were trapped with their backs toward the sea.

“We must jump overboard now!” cried Alexandros.

Bixbin looked worried as he glanced down at the sea. “I will not…I cannot swim,” he cried back.

Alexandros tossed the four-foot-four dwarf overboard, then jumped in after him to keep him from sinking.

Once Winston saw that they all were safe, he flew up into the air and took in a huge deep breath. As the vampires stumbled and crashed around, he launched a massive fire-ball from his mouth, finishing off the vampires for good and exploding the ship into pieces.

Shattered parts of the ship floated all around them. Alexandros found a large and sturdy piece to hold Raphael and Bixbin. Winston returned to his normal peaceful self and refused to say anything to the group as he sat floating in the sea almost swan-like. Alexandros while keeping afloat removed his old worn-out grey shirt and ripped it in half to bandage his wound from the battle.

The group was silent for some time; no one wished to speak as they floated in the night’s sea. Elora, while helping Alistair keep Raphael from sinking, looked to Alexandros and said with a giggle, “Well…at least we are all off the ship…”

The shipwrecked group managed to laugh as they drifted away.

After several hours they were exhausted. The water was dark and cold, and light fog had formed around them. Alexandros noticed a small golden light in the distance; the light grew closer until it outlined the shape of a small ship. The ship was long and had a six-man crew. It was light brown in color, and the sails were as large and white as clouds; the front of the ship had a beautifully carved wooden griffin lunging from its bow. A most handsome and dashing elf warrior appeared on deck.

“Greetings travelers,” he said in an ethereal voice. “I am Valchor, prince of the night elves.”

CHAPTER XIV

EVEDSATU

E
LVES ARE KNOWN
to be the oldest race to inhabit the land. They possess the greatest of skills and keep far away from the other living beings on the earth. They possess grace, dignity, and perfection in craftsmanship. The night elves live in the most isolated oak forests near the seas.

Night One

T
he elves led the way from their ship through their forest. Trees were so tall they seemed to surpass the clouds. The trees themselves were incredibly thick, and the limbs where full of the most luscious green leaves. The leaves engulfed the trees; the lavish color of green filled the forest even at night. Flowing creeks trickled along a small narrow road.

Guiding the group was the young elven prince Valchor. He was a six feet two in height; his hair was long and so black that in the light it looked almost blue—it reached all the way down his back. His perfect pale skin was incredibly luminous in the moonlight. He had pointed ears and the most perfect features that made him the most handsome elf among his people. His body was lean and toned. He wore silver royal armor; on each wrist he had silver spiked gauntlets that reached from his knuckles to his elbows. His right shoulder held a matching silver shoulder plate with a forest design, and a black leather belt crossed his chest, connecting from the plate going over his left shoulder while also reaching down to the huge stomach plate that started from under his chest going to his lower midsection. His silver stomach plate had the initial “V” carved into it, which stood for his name—but the other elves had an inside joke saying the “V” stood for “Vanity.” On his back were two large swords strapped in an “X” form. Valchor had big round eyes that were an enchanting forest green; on his head he wore a silver head-band with a green ruby in the center. He wore black tights and dark brown boots that almost reached his knees. Valchor was one who was very much full of himself; he held himself to a high standard and adored showing off his powerful warrior skills in battle.