From a collection of 100-word stories & wonders
The reclusive Scythian was scratching for desert gold when the young man appeared atop a rise, eyes searching, seeking, unsatisfied. Massaging a livid battle scar, he named himself Alexandros; claimed to be on a journey to the ends of the earth and would see its wonders. In a low saddle between hills the Scythian stopped, pointed down. With a happy gasp, Alexandros fell to his knees and, like a boy with a horse, gently stroked the bleached skull of a ferocious gold-hoarding griffin. “Can such creatures be ridden?” he asked. “Only by the gods,” said the Scythian. Alexandros smiled.