Travelers: Alexander, the Forsaken

[PART ONE: BEGINNINGS]

As the sun sets over Forewall and its castle, bathing it in soft orange hues, a young man brushes a stray blonde hair from his face as he sweeps the chapel stoop. It would not be long before the mountains claimed the sun for its own. Alexander knew this, and finished his chores for the chapel. The church was smaller than a cathedral, but shared the elegance of one. The marble pillars on the stoop cast shadows over the stained glass of the church's windows. The walls were built to withstand even the most difficult weather conditions.

"Father?" The young boy yelled, "I have finished my chores for the evening and I am returning home. Is there anything else that needs doing?" He listened for a moment as his voice echoed through the empty chapel off the fine wood oak pews, savoring the sound of his own echo as it came back to him. He entered the church, his tall, well built frame and heavy step causing the old wood floor to creak in protest.

As he approached the back of the church, the old priest looked up from the document he was writing at the dais. As he smiled at Alexander, his stern face crinkled like an old sweets wrapper, lending a softness to the man. "I've finished," Alexander said again, more quietly, shifting on his feet restlessly, his eyes glinting like cut sapphires in the candle light.

"Of course, my boy; thank you for your time," the old priest said, waving his hand. "You've done more than enough."

Alexander smiled as he set aside the broom in its closet. Another 2 days until he was paid generously. Alex congratulated himself on another job well done, and donned a goofy grin as he made his way past the pews and through the double oak doors. He gently set the door into its frames with a quiet click.

Alexander left the church with a spring in his step. Despite his looming hours of training ahead, he couldn't stop smiling as he took his time walking home. He stopped at the local drinking well to see who was floating around.

Most of the villagers have gone home. "Hey, Alex!" He heard a feminine cry from behind him. He turned around to see a local girl, about his age. He studied her face for a moment, her jaw line was still childish, but her puppy brown eyes held a certain authenticity to them. Her nose came up to a small point, and her ears came down with a smooth curve. To Alex, everything about her was perfect.

She was his passing fancy; Miss Grace Baker. She was just the young woman he was hoping to see. "Ah, hello Miss Grace!" He greeted her warmly. "I left the chapel wishing I could see you. How great it is to enjoy your presence again so soon!"

The setting sun over the town walls made her warm smile apparent as she spoke. "It is very pleasing to see you again, Alex," she said with a warmth that countered the relatively brisk evening that was ushering in. "I was hoping we could have more time than this, but that priest keeps you busy, doesn't he?"

"You could say that!" Alex gleamed, "It's for the best, though. He only wishes the best for my family after all, with my father serving in the war. One day I'm going to be departing with my own battalion."

"As a spearman, no doubt." Grace teased.

"Even as a spearman, I'd still be the very best." Alex retorted, "I mean to be among the highest ranks one day. Heck, I'll be a general, too!"

"I have no doubt, Alex. You won't let anything stand between you and your goals. You always have that sort of air about you." Grace responded.

Alex was stunned for a moment, caught off guard by her remarks. He shook it off as quickly as it came. "Thank you, Grace. I appreciate your encouragement."

"The sun is setting." Grace responded. "I should get some water and go home." She said quietly. The words hung in the air, deliberately.

Alex broke the silence quickly. "I don't have plans after church Sunday, if you would like to spend it with me I would be honored." Alex held out a hand. Grace took it and nodded. Alex brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Until next time, then." He said.