Charlotte A. Michaud's: Earth Man

Part 2

The first rays of the sun cracks open the clouded sky. The light slowly overturns the darkness revealing Alezander preparing for battle.  He secures his armor and gathers his sword and shield.  His new confidence finds that he still thinks of the glory of dying in battle.  He kneels to the ground for a moment, not to pray, but to feel the march of an army.  The Persians had laid siege and captured the polis of Eretria.  Their army of 60 thousand marched onwards towards Marathon where they would meet with their fleet of 40 thousand more men.  Alezander feels the pulse of the ground as he would his own.  At first the feeling is slight, almost unnoticed.  As Alezander concentrates harder and harder, he feels each soldier’s foot trample the ground.  The weight of the arms they bear is great, as is the seemingly endless numbers.  Alezander stands up and heads inland, just south of Tanagra.  He is in tune with the ground.  He feels each step, every pulse of this incoming army.
The Persian army is commanded by Datis and his second in command  Artaphernes.  A regiment of 30 thousand men is under Hippias.  As the massive force continues its’ thunderous march across the soil, a scout for Hippias comes to him with great urgency.  Fearing no cause of alarm, Hippias continues his regiment forward as the scout tells him, “Exalted one, before us stands a Greek who bids us battle.”  Almost in shock, Hippias bellows, “One man?  You bring me news of one man who has lost his sanity.”  The scout trembles, fearing what may become him, “But this Greek sought us out and bade that I give you this message.  He spoke of you by name.”  Hippias thought a moment then dismissed the scout.  His regiment consisted of 30 thousand men.  One man is nothing to fear, let alone be concerned with.  The sun was not high overhead yet when the marching soldiers came upon a rocky hill in the not too far distance, and as the scout had told, there stood one Greek soldier. Sword in hand, armed with shield and helmet and armor in place.  It was Alezander!  Not knowing whom this upstart was, Hippias ordered his archers to put the deluded one out of his misery.  As the infantry marched forward, a row of archers took aim, then in one word, they all let loose their arrows.  The sky darkened as it filled with inevitable instruments of death.  Alezander looked to the sky to see the arrows plunging toward him.  Instinctively he crouches and raises his shield.  His vision blocked by his shield, he can only wait to feel the pounding of arrows upon him.  Mere moments pass and not an arrow was felt.  As he lowered his shield, he saw an arched wall of rock and soil thirty feet tall that surrounded him.  Only for a moment he looked puzzled, then he realized what the Cyclops Arges had told him, that he would not need his weapons and armor.

Alezander smiled to himself briefly.  He lowered the wall around him using his hands to bring the stone and earth back to where they were.  The ground was covered with arrows except for where Alezander stood.  The marching regiment was halted.  Hippias had made his way to the front to see for himself what has happened and upon looking, he saw and recognized the face in front of his regiment.  Ultimately, Hippias responds as any other man in his position, “Attack!”  The ground erupts in thunder as the regiment begins a full run at Alezander.  As the surge of men drew near, Alezander steadied his footing and the soil surrounded his feet making him stand quickly.  He tightened his grip on his sword as the wave of blades were thrust at him.  He blocked with his shield and thrust with his sword.  Attempts by the soldiers to bury their swords into his flesh were met by rocks and stone, which acted as armor and skin.  Persian thrusts were countered with lethal decapitation.  A strike to Alezander’s helmet was buffered by soft soil on his head.  Alezander broke his own sword in the skull of an enemy.

Seemingly looking unarmed, more soldiers rushed towards him.  Teeth baring and eyes full of blood lust, the soldiers’ war yell, soon turned into a cry of help as Alezander used jagged stones, of all shapes and sizes, to be hurled through fiber, flesh and bone.  Each assault taught Alezander the added truth of his power.  He crouched down and put his hand in the earth and every rock, pebble or stone within a foot of the surface, became unstoppable projectiles.  One soldier managed to catch Alezander off guard and thrusted his sword into Alezander’s side.  Alezander winced in pain but did not cry out.  He motioned with his hand an upward movement and several flat stones flew up from the ground.  One stone sheared the sword; another stone sheared the attacker’s arm.  One stone busted out of the man’s skull and helmet, splattering Alezander with blood.  Alezander removed what was left of the blade from his body.  He stood bleeding for a moment and then the bleeding stopped.  He was healing as fast as his cut hand did before.  Slowly the soldiers grew wary of attacking Alezander.  The body count was too numerous.  Lifting his palms upward, the soil around the fallen soldiers rose.  Suddenly in one abrupt close of his fist and drop of his arm, Alezander pulled the bodies underground.

The soldiers, who remain unscathed, retreated back to their own lines.  Hippias was furious and ordered his calvary to cut Alezander down.  The men rode brazenly on their horses with swords poised to strike.  Alezander remembered how he braced his own feet in the ground and when the charging men were close, he snapped his hands shut, drawing the earth around the hooves of the horses.  Some horses came to a halt, other animals snapped their legs, most unmounted their riders, but none advanced any further.  And just as before, Alezander lifted his open hand up then quickly dropped it while closing his fingers to a fist, and like before, the bodies on the surface were yanked underground.  The surviving horses shrieked as of a wailing child.  The sound silenced the entire army.  Hippias stood in awe as he had witnessed the entire slaughter.  His men, too fearful to go on, slowly withdrew.  Alezander removed his helmet and let the soft winds blow thru it.  He undid his body armor and let it drop to the ground.  He stood for a moment, and then he raised both hands high.  The ground rumbled and snapped under his feet as it lifted him up high.  High enough for the army below to hear,  “I am Alezander and I wish the one called Hippias to come forward.”  The soldiers dared not look at Hippias directly, but thousands of eyes did.  It went unsaid, but many a man was hoping that this carnage would come to an end if Hippias gave himself up.  These were soldiers of Persia, of Darius.  They came to fight men, not gods, demi-gods or deities.  Hippias stood in silence, not knowing what to do.  He quickly looked around to see if anyone dared entertain Alezander’s demand.  Many may have thought it, but none showed it. 

Alezander stomped on the ground that he was on and millions of rocks were airborne hurdling down upon the stunned army.  Men’s jaws were broken, skulls crushed, spines snapped and appendages broken.  Thousands died.  Once again Alezander called out, “I want the one called Hippias!”  Now visibly shaken, Hippias began  to withdraw towards the back of his regiment.  Again, Alezander levied an assault on the army and another thousand men fell where they stood.  Soon Alezander heard the cries of a begging man pleading for mercy.  It was Hippias being forced towards the front by swords.  Alezander narrowed his view to Hippias and before Hippias could do or say anything, Alezander closed his fist tightly and all the rocks on the ground encased Hippias.  Then the ground seemed to turn to water as it flowed up to where Alezander was standing carrying the encased Hippias along.  Once again face-to-face, Alezander sneered at Hippias, “Coward! Traitor!”
Hippias shudders in fear.  “And you call yourself a Greek?” Alezander yells out.
Vainly, Hippias offers a reason, “I only sought to punish those who persecuted me.”
Alezander raises his fist and squeezes his fingers tighter.  The rocks encasing Hippias crushes him a little more.  “No, No!”  “Spare me” he cries out.
Alezander’s jaw muscles show the tension in his body as he replies, “The way you spared my comrades and the temple of Gaia?”  Hippias’s eyes draw close as he feels the rocks tighten on him more.  He gasps for air as blood begins to exit all orifices.  Then he defiantly manages to say, “Slay me then you damned priest. I pray to the gods above that your day of reckoning will also be the instrument of your destruction.  With my last breath I curse you.”  With that, Alezander squeezes his fist hard.  The rocks around Hippias respond the same finally killing him.  Alezander then finds a piece of slate and throws it at Hippias’ body, severing the head from the body.  He watches it drop to the ground, just as he watched Gaia’s statue do the same.  He stands still for a moment, unsure of what to do.  The army in front of him should be destroyed.  They are after all, enemies of Greece, yet he does take care to remember what Arges had told him.  Frustrated, he begins to wave his arms on each side of him.  The wind picks up, the soil spins, and dust rises.  The frightened soldiers do not know where to run, for this was a dust storm like no other they had seen.  For the entire day it stormed, rendering the army helpless, and then the storm had stopped and when it was finally clear enough to see, Alezander was gone. The cost to the Persian army was 20 thousand men. The battle took over a day and to recover their losses, the soldiers regrouped within another 4 days.  In all, there was a 5-day loss before the battle of Marathon. Miltiades,  commander of the Greek army, had time to gather his forces and devise a plan of attack.  Having felt his obligation to Greece was complete, Alezander returned home to Coronea.

As Alezander was on the road from Tanagra to Coronea, he noticed a body near the roadside; the spear bore deep into the ground keeping the body upright.  It was impaled by a spear.  He went to the body and discovered it was Cyrus, the priest who had left the temple.  Seeing his friend in such a way, Alezander broke the spear so that he could lower Cyrus’ body to the ground.  There was no life left in the body.  No evidence as to who or why someone would do this.  Alezander could not understand how this could happen to Cyrus.  He left Coronea immediately, taking very little of his personal possessions.  Alezander felt the soil around Cyrus’ body for evidence of army activity. There was none.  Alezander concentrated hard to feel what the ground had felt most recently.  He sensed and felt the trotting of a man’s walk, then a burst into a run.  Finally the sudden stop of the man’s running and the spear tip striking deep into the soil.  Such events then belonged to Cyrus, but he felt only one set of feet running.  If Cyrus was running, then who was chasing him?  If someone gave chase, would not the soil have traces of two people or more?  What mysteries should be answered for later.  For now, Alezander opened up the earth and placed his friend in it.  He covered the body with rocks and stones, and then summoned a small flow of lava to ignite the corpse into flame.  “Go with Gaia my brother,” Alezander spoke as the burial site turned an amber color as it glowed.
Having waited until the body was totally turned to ash, Alezander continued his journey back to Coronea, back to Lexine!

Upon his return to Coronea, Alezander saw that the work on the temple was going fine.  The area had an unusual calm to it.  People were carrying on with their typical day.  No one knew of his battles and victories.  Like death, some victories are personal and lonely.  Alezander looked around town seeking out Lexine.  On one of the streets he met Cadmus.  Cadmus had spotted him and called him over.  “Alezander, you look well from your ordeal. How did it fair?”  Alezander’s eyes searched the crowds and area as he answered, “All went well. My victory was assured and complete.”  Then his eyes fixed upon Cadmus and his voice grew softer as he told, “Cadmus, Cyrus is dead. I found his body enroute here. He was slain by I know not.”  Cadmus’ face offers no expression, not of surprise, not of hate, not of remorse.  He blandly offered, “Perhaps it was Gaia who abandoned Cyrus as well. The gods are vengeful.”  He takes Alezander’s arm and begins to walk him back towards the temple.  “I don’t know if you had seen our  progress upon the temple as yet,” he offers.  Alezander removes Cadmus’ hand from his arm and says, “I have seen the work. It is a good thing. However, at this time I seek out the herder, Ozias.”
Cadmus’ eyes cut as he knowingly asks, “Why do you look for a goat herder when there is so much more importance to do?”  Not realizing what Cadmus had instigated, Alezander looks at him smiling and says, “The goat herder and I have much to discuss.  I wish the hand of his daughter,” he offers.  As Alezanders’ head turns to further search, Cadmus’ head shakes in disgust, “You know your purpose is to serve Gaia. Why do you ignore this?”  Alezander still smiling responds, “I can serve Gaia better as a happy man. Lexine will make me happy.”  Cadmus’ tone changes to a more sinister sound as he tells Alezander, “The goat herder and his child left when you did. I know not of where they may be.”  Alezander’s face turns to slight panic as he tries to think of how to find them.  Cadmus offers, “The shepherd does not like you Alezander. I say leave them to the hills and the gods they pray to.”  Alezander looks at Cadmus and answers, “But my dear brother, I cannot.”
Reluctantly Cadmus nods his head, feigning surrender, “Yes, yes. I understand. This is something you must do and have.”  Looking upward to the sky Cadmus appears to be determining the time of day as he tells Alezander, “Then be off  my brother. You must find this woman.”  Alezander smiles and touches Cadmus’ shoulder, “ Thank you for understanding my brother. I shall return when I have Lexine. Then we shall complete the temple.”  And with that Alezander, once again, left Cadmus who walked towards a stable and gathered a horse.  He mounted the animal and rode in a specific direction.


Just outside the northern tip of Coronea were the caves of Khthon.  At the caves entrance he dismounts from his horse and looks around in paranoia.  He looks into the cave, it is pitch black and strong hot winds are felt emitting from it.  The sound the winds make seem like the wails of tortured souls hanging in the air. A chill runs down his spine as he tries to reason with himself to justify what he is about to do.  His personal conflict resolved, he enters the cave cautiously. He measures each step taking care to keep his hands in front of him as the darkness offers no light at all.  Beneath his sandaled feet he feels the writhing of creatures on the cave floor.  He feels the slight touch of some of the cave dwellers, while he feels the stinging bites of others.  Still he moves forward with his hands extended in front of him.  His pace is slow and his walking is endless.  He is not sure how long or the distance he has walked when he suddenly hears whispers and shrieks echoing around him.  The ground seems softer and pliable.  He feels warm liquid flowing around and over his feet. Liquid that seems thicker than water.  As he continues his pace, his nostrils fill with an indescribable stench. A smell so pungent that he can feel his eyes water and tears running down his face.  The heat that sears his skin is almost unbearable.  As soon as Cadmus feels this was a mistake coming here, he hears, “So worshipper of Gaia, have you come with news for me to revel in?”  The voice is haunting and demanding at the same time.  The cave echoes each word spoken.  Cadmus, still unable to see, replies, “Oh great one. I do beseech you again to assist me.”  “ What now do you want of Erobos?” as the echoes carry.  Cadmus replies, “The enemies of Gaia are many and great. I need your aid once more to combat them.  This time it is a shepherd and his daughter.”    “So once again you would have me intervene in the fate of men.  How is a shepherd and his offspring of importance to me or my kind?” the entity asks.  Cadmus clears his throat even as the heat dries it out, “The shepherd is more than a shepherd. His daughter weilds control of powers granted by Gaia herself.”  “What concern is it of mine I ask again?” the entity whispers.  “But great one, Cadmus starts, “I cannot deliver worshippers to you if those around me look upon this woman with envious eyes.  How can men worship you great Erebos while still lusting for Gaia?”  The winds blow harder and the heat increases, then Cadmus hears, “What do you offer for tribute?”  Cadmus reluctantly replies, “I offer my mare I came with and two more temples in which men will pray to you, oh god of darkness.  It is with great humility I offer these.”  The winds die off and the heat drops to a sudden chill as Cadmus hears fading away, “Agreed. Go now worshipper of Gaia. May the worshippers you offer to me, be as devoted as you are to Gaia.”  Then there is nothing else heard.  Cadmus turns and extends his hands in front of him as he leaves the darkness.  Once outside he sees no evidence of his horse. He sees the sun moving slowly across the sky.  He looks back into the darkness of the cave and smiles. 

As the sun begins to set, it fills the sky with an orange hue.  Travelers settle in one spot for the night and nocturnal animals begin to wake.  Alezander’s search for Ozias’ camp receives a turn for the better.  Alezander touches the ground and closes his eyes.  He can feel what the soil feels.  He can feel the lizards scurrying, he can feel the birds’ last gathering of food for the night, and finally he feels the hooves of many goats and sheep in one area.  He focuses on that sensation and heads for it.  In a matter of minutes he comes upon Ozias’ camp. The sun hangs low in the sky, barely touching the horizon, when Alezander walks into the camp.  He looks for Lexine and Ozias.  The tents are pitched but no fire burns as yet.  He puts his hand up to cover the sunlight in his eyes when coming over a hill is Lexine.  Her arms are full of timber and her black hair tosses in the slight breeze.  Alezander’s chest tightens with joy and anticipation.  He immediately runs to her.  Lexine’s eyes look up from the ground to see Alezander running towards her.  She drops the timber and runs to greet him.  They meet and clutch each other tightly. Neither says a word.  Alezander gently caresses her face and looks deep into her eyes, which fill with tears.  Still, neither speaks.  She clutches his tunic and holds it tightly.  His hands feel good upon her skin and she kisses his palms hungrily.  He draws her in closer to him and slowly brings his head down to her five foot four frame.  He softly presses his lips against hers and they share their first kiss.  They are lost in the moment that sweeps all doubt, pain and reasons away.  As they continue to kiss, Alezander holds her face and feels a tear slowly glide down her cheek.  He pulls from her and smiles softly at her and lovingly wipes the tear from her face.  She smiles at him and takes his hand and kisses it again. She looks into his eyes and says, “I thought I had lost you before I could tell you how I thanked the gods for finding you.”  He hugs her to reassure her.  As they hugged, the first tear is followed by others as Lexine is overcome with intense emotions,  “ I thought you killed or worst.” She confessed to him.  Finally Alezander spoke, telling her, “Not even death would keep me from you.”  Their embrace continued to be close and passionate

To be continued.