The Tale Of Alexander Part 2

The Tale Of Alexander Part 2

A Chapter by North Dakota
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Alexander questions his actions as he remembers his past...

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Alexander sat by candlelight on one of the pews of the church. He rested his head in his hands, pondering and reflecting his actions. Beside him sat his sheathed sword; dried blood still stained the blade. Her final screams still echoed within the chambers of his mind, the terrified look on her face burned itself into his brain, and the cruel smile of his leader still haunted him.

‘How could something so malevolent be righteous? Am I abandoning my faith? How can this happen!? Death is the divine truth...there is no other way…’ Alexander halfheartedly convinced himself. As he cast himself into deep thought, the boy did not even realize that Virgil had entered the building. The oldest of The Blessed sat beside the distraught youth, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve been watching you as of late.” He spoke.

“Really?”

“You’re unsure of your own actions...you question your faith.” Alexander choked up a bit; he had hit the nail on the head.  
“This...this is true. I used to kill without mercy, for I knew our lord would show them mercy within his divine arms, but...but now--”

“You question why the screams are haunting you?” Virgil interrupted.

“Y-Yes, how did you know?”
“I felt the same, Alexander. I understand the doubt in your conviction.” His words rose with a reminiscent inflection.

“How were you able to cope with these feelings, Virgil?” Alexander stared into the older man’s eyes as he spoke.

“To be honest, I am not quite sure!” He let out a hearty laugh, but quickly regained his serious tone. “I will be frank with you, how you deal with these emotions is entirely up to you.”

“What does that mean?!” Alexander angrily inquired, demanding a straight answer.

“It means that you must decide for yourself who you are before you act further.” The boy sighed.

“You speak in riddles, old man.” He averted his gaze to the floor, huffing out of frustration.

“All answers will come in due time, you are still a child after all.” Virgil cocked an eyebrow as he said this, hoping to get a rise out of the younger man.

“I am not! I am nineteen years of age, I am more than capable of holding the title of manhood!” Alexander argued, stimulating a grin from the older man.

“You really do have a fire within you, Alexander.” Virgil placed an arm around his friend. “Never let go of it, when the world is dark, let the light of that fire guide you on your path.”

“How is it that when I speak with you, I end up with even more confusion then I started with?” Virgil tousled the boy’s hair as he stood.

“As you grow older, you will learn that trick as well. But for now, use your time wisely. You won’t be young forever.” Virgil’s final words cut through the silent church as he entered the back room where The Blessed had set up makeshift conveniences such as a kitchen. Alexander sighed, then rested his back against the pew. His gaze practically bored a hole through the roof of the church as he intently stared at it, hoping some answers to his problem would magically arrive. The young man remembered his youth, more specifically, he remembered the actions of his leader. Back then, he remember being stunned with the grace of his every move and the righteousness of his every action. Nothing seemed more perfect, more right then when his judgement would save this world from another corrupted soul, but what they had done last night? Where was the judgement? Where was the fair trial? Where was the mercy? None of these were found within Miska in that village, the only thing Alexander could find within his leader that night...was evil.


Deciding that sitting around and brooding were going to do him no good, Alexander decided to get out and about. The boy exited the church, then rounded the corner to find a bare torso-ed Andrei splitting wood.

“Hello,”--He spoke through grunts as he split each piece of lumber--”Alexander.” Another heavy swing split one log into two. “Would you like to help?” He asked the young man.

“Of course, Andrei.” Alexander replied, then grabbed an axe from the small wooden shed behind the church.

“Start with this pile, if you would.” Andrei gestured with a nod of his head towards the pile of timber behind him.

“Got it.” Alexander swiftly placed a log onto the stump in front of him, then lined up his swing.

“So, about yesterday…” Andrei began the conversation. “I apologize if I seemed...brash. I wanted nothing more than for you to be happy, and both you and I know that happiness lies along this path.” Another heavy swing from both. Andrei stopped for a moment and stared into the boy’s eyes, as if searching his soul for the truth. “I fear that if I allow your disobedience to hinder your mission, you will stray from the path.” He returned to chopping. “And we would both regret what would happen then.” Though his words seemed quite insensitive, there was a deep lining of compassion underneath them. All of these men had a deep, brotherly bond that could not be separated, and each would risk life and limb to protect each other; of all the things that he was confused about, this was the one fact that Alexander was sure of.

“I understand, but I simply wish we did not have to hurt so many to save them.” Alexander shrugged.

“It is simply the way we have always functioned, Alex.”
“Well, perhaps couldn’t we try a different way?”

“It is set in stone how we free these damned souls from their mortal bonds. There is no other way to save them.”

“I suppose you’re right.” After a few minutes of silent chopping between the two, Andrei warmly smiled.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Andrei played coy.

“No, what is it?” Alexander persisted.

“I find it ironic, you doubt our way, but from this way, you were brought to us. Do you remember the story?” Alexander smiled as well.

“Of course, how could I forget?” The two began to recall the tale.


On a late, rainy night, the five horsemen came. Like a swift strike of lightning, they surrounded the carriage that ambled down the back road. The five young men--with the eldest being twenty years old--struck down the horses with two quick slashes, causing the wagon to come to an immediate halt. The five dismounted to meet the passengers and driver, who had just stepped away from the reins.

“Take whatever you want! The valuables are in the luggage compartment in the back.” The driver pointed to it, but Miska’s stone stare pinned him to the side of the vehicle. He didn’t want possessions, that they both knew.

“I have studied you lot. You are a rich, spoiled family who let those around you starve while you partake of the finest wines and desserts this land has to offer!” He, quite literally this time, pinned the driver by his collar to the side of the wagon. “You are despicable people who offer nothing to those who beg for your aid. Even one among us has more than once requested your help, and what did you give him when he approached your gates?!” Miska waved for Juve to approach. “Show them the kindness they have gifted upon you.” Miska ordered. The sixteen year old boy removed the hood of his green cloak to show a large, jagged scar running down through his left eye and ending on his chin. The driver dry heaved with disgust at the sight of the boy’s injury.

“What does your God say? An eye for an eye? You are a Christian, don’t you believe this is fair?” Miska questioned as he handed the man a small dagger. “Give yours for his. Isn’t that what your God would want!?” He closed the knife into the man’s hand and raised it to his face. “Go on, follow his command!” Miska furiously shouted. The greed-filled man shakily held the blade to the top of his forehead, then lowered it a painful inch, leaving a bleeding cut on his forehead. The passenger door to the carriage opened, and from it, two women wearing embellished silk dresses stepped out. As The Blessed were distracted, the driver had shaken free and bolted from the carriage, attempting to flee.

“He would leave his own children here to die? Not even scum will stick by scum. Horatio! Strike him down.” The long-haired boy grinned and complied.

“Gladly.” With the accuracy of an archer, Horatio pitched one of his many daggers, placing it directly between the man’s shoulder blades and bringing him to the ground. The cowardly father attempted to crawl away, but Horatio began to saunter his way towards him. As his partner struck the final blow on the target, Miska returned his gaze to the women.

“Now, to deal with you, the rotten apples from the corrupted tree.” Miska spoke of the daughters, who, one of which, seemed to be expecting a child.  Andrei stood side by side with his leader.

“These two do not even need a trial, they don’t deserve fair. Was it fair when thousands suffered from their greed? Was it fair when the gold they harbored could have been used to save an entire village? Was it fair when they were born lucky and fat while we were born poor and on death’s door!?” Andrei raised his axe in anger, but Miska quickly stopped him.

“We do not let anger anchor us to a level beneath them, Andrei! We are the judges, therefore, we must keep an unbiased head.” The muscular boy lowered his weapon and nodded.

“You are right, Miska...continue. Apologies for my outburst.” Miska shook his head, then approached the girls.

“Please, don’t hurt us! We’ll do anything! Just don’t kill us!” The younger of the ladies spoke.

“Shut up! Of course you would. You’d do anything to save yourselves, wouldn’t you?” Miska asked in a berating tone. “I bet you’d even give me that unborn child of yours.” He pointed to the round stomach of the older.

“I-Is that what you want?” She timidly asked. Miska pondered for a moment.

“How old is it?”

“I...I’ll be going into labor quite soon, I promise.”

“No. I want it dead. I never want to see this child, and furthermore, I want your permission.” Miska gingerly rested his sword on top of the woman’s stomach. “Say it, for your own life, say it.” Without hesitation, the woman spoke.

“You may kill the baby! I do not even want it, I was impregnated by my husband against my will!” Miska shook his head and angrily grit his teeth.

“You will trade this life...for your own?”

“Yes! Of course!” She desperately pleaded. Total silence.

With nothing but the sound of raindrops falling around him, Miska’s indignant growl began to crescendo.

“YOU ARE TRASH!” He swiftly decapitated the desperate woman, catching her body merely for the child’s sake. “Quickly! We must work quickly! Horatio, cut open her stomach, we must save this child!” Horatio nodded, then quickly but carefully made the incisions around the lower abdomen and the uterus. “Virgil, Juve, grab any blankets you can find, if there are none, use the clothing in the luggage.” The men swiftly went about gathering the materials they needed.


“There! I can see it!” Horatio exclaimed, then quickly scooped up the endangered child and severed the umbilical cord with his blade. Using a blanket he found in one of the steamer trunks, Virgil held the rain off of the child and the men working to save it. After a quick moment, the group discovered that the infant had been a boy.

“Please...breath!” Miska begged as he cradled the silent child in his arms. For an instant, all was silent. The air itself had become stagnant and dreary as the morale of each man dropped significantly. A small tear escaped Miska’s eye as he released an angry wail. “D****t. Damn me! My ignorant anger has caused this! It has caused...an innocent death…” The leader’s voice wavered as tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

“This boy...he has never sinned, he has never wronged another, he has never lied, or stolen, or cheated or even taken a goddamn breath all because of me!” The dark-haired leader shouted angrily as he blamed himself. His tears rolled from his cheeks and dropped to the ground silently as he clutched his head with his free hand. Miska’s salty tears of anger and sorrow overflowed as he weeped. The silent sentry of the group placed a hand on the weeping man’s shoulder.

“It is okay, sir. The child’s spirit will move on--” Juve attempted to console him, but was interrupted.

“It is not okay! This innocent soul...never got a chance because of me. Because of me...he will never be allowed the fair chance at life he deserves...because of me...he has died…” Miska thought his self-deprecating words would be the only voice that cut through the storm, but he was pleasantly surprised when a shrill, healthy cry split the silence after a few short coughs.

“He lives.” Andrei spoke in awe.

“He lives?” Horatio repeated, excitedly checking the other’s faces for confirmation.

“He lives!” Each man shouted in unison as they rejoiced in the child’s healthy cry.


After their short-lived celebration, they quickly swaddled the baby in the torn remains of a dress they had found in the luggage. Miska, like a proud father, held the child in his arms and spoke to not only him, but the entire group as a family.

“Child, you have died. You have been killed within your sinful family...but you have been re-birthed in innocence. You have been reborn...as one of us.” Miska slowly swiveled his head to see the smiling faces of the men, each of which, could not have been either prouder or happier. “You will know the evils of this world...and with them, you will know the beauty of this world. You will know of both the screams of the damned, and the sweet songs of the saved. In this rain, and in this blood we kneel in, you...are blessed.” Miska’s voice faded off to a whisper as he gave the child a loving kiss on the forehead.

“He sure does have a pair of lungs on ‘im!” Andrei commented, getting a small chuckle from the group.

“What should we name him?” Horatio curiously asked. After a few brief minutes of thinking and a few failed suggestions, the group decided on one, unanimous name.

“Alexander will be your name, child. You will grow strong in the fight to come. With us, you will truly be doing God’s work.” Miska spoke to the newborn infant who had fallen asleep in his arms. As the five watched the sun rise before them, with it came a new dawn, and a new family member.

“Welcome home, Alexander.”



© 2016 North Dakota



Author's Note

North Dakota
I'd love to hear what you guys think or any suggestions you might have. As always, thank you for reading, and feel free to comment!

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Reviews

Great story telling. This did justice in the realm of getting the message across. Great message.

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

North Dakota

1 Year Ago

Thank you, I'm glad to know that people are actually enjoying my writing!
I liked this chapter. Now I have to go back and read the first chapter. :)

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

North Dakota

1 Year Ago

Thank you, and congratulations on being my first comment to receive!*Confetti thrown*
Superfan4Ever

1 Year Ago

You are so welcome I feel honored! 😃

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North Dakota
North Dakota

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I'm an amateur author who enjoys writing more than anything. I hope to improve my writing style and etiquette through the criticism of others. So, any review or criticism would be greatly appreciated,.. more..

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