CHAPTER FIVE: A World That Forgot My Name
590 Words
Alexander
The desert remembered me.
The people did not.
The sun climbed higher with every step I took across the endless sea of sand. Heat shimmered above the dunes, blurring the horizon until the pyramids looked like ghosts rising from the earth.
Years ago, men had knelt when I entered Egypt.
Now...
No one knew who I was.
By midday, I reached the edge of a small village nestled against the Nile.
Children chased one another between mud-brick homes.
Women carried water in clay jars.
Fishermen mended their nets beneath the shade of date palms.
Life continued as though history had never changed.
As though I had never existed.
An old merchant looked up as I approached.
His eyes lingered on my armor.
"You've come from the western ruins?"
"I have."
He frowned.
"You should stay away from that place."
"Why?"
He glanced toward the distant pyramids before lowering his voice.
"They say the dead walk there."
I almost laughed.
"They're not wrong."
The merchant chuckled, believing I'd made a joke.
"You soldiers always have strange humor."
Soldier.
Not king.
Not Pharaoh.
Just...
Soldier.
"Tell me," I asked casually, "who rules Egypt?"
The merchant blinked.
"You truly aren't from around here."
"I've been away."
He nodded.
"Our Pharaoh."
His expression softened with unmistakable pride.
"Cleopatra."
The name meant nothing to me.
"A queen?"
"A Pharaoh," he corrected firmly.
"The finest we've had in generations."
Interesting.
A woman upon Egypt's throne.
The world had changed more than I realized.
"What of Alexander?"
The merchant tilted his head.
"Alexander...?"
"The Macedonian."
Understanding dawned across his face.
"Oh!"
"The Great."
He smiled.
"My grandson loves those stories."
Stories.
My jaw tightened.
"He carries a little wooden sword and pretends he's Alexander conquering Persia."
He laughed warmly.
"Children love legends."
Legends.
The word struck harder than any spear.
"So..."
I asked carefully.
"You believe he's only a story?"
The merchant looked genuinely confused.
"Of course."
"He died centuries ago."
Centuries.
The desert seemed to fall silent.
Even the wind stopped.
"How many?"
The merchant scratched his beard.
"I couldn't tell you exactly."
"But enough that no one living remembers him."
No one living.
I turned away before he could see the storm crossing my face.
Centuries...
Not years.
Not decades.
Centuries.
Everything I had built...
Every city.
Every battlefield.
Every victory.
Every sacrifice.
Reduced to bedtime stories for children.
I walked without direction until I reached a hill overlooking the Nile.
There, half-buried in the sand, stood a weathered statue.
Its face had been worn smooth by time.
But the posture...
The armor...
The sword held toward the horizon...
I knew that figure.
Me.
I brushed sand from the stone base.
Ancient Greek letters had faded almost beyond recognition.
Beneath them, newer Egyptian carvings had been etched by later hands.
I traced the inscription with my fingers.
"Alexander the Great."
"Beloved of Amun."
"The King Who United Worlds."
I stared at the words for a long time.
United worlds.
And yet...
The world had continued without me.
A shadow passed overhead.
I looked up.
A falcon circled once.
Twice.
Then flew toward the west.
Toward Giza.
Toward the open tomb.
Toward destiny.
As I watched it disappear into the blazing sky...
A voice echoed through my mind.
Not loud.
Not threatening.
Ancient.
Female.
Powerful.
"Come."
One word.
Yet it carried the weight of kingdoms.
I did not know who had spoken.
But I knew one thing with absolute certainty.
She was waiting.
And somehow...
I had the feeling she had been waiting for centuries.
- Writer
