Epic of Amierta [Installment 1]

By Tracer


Echoes running through the
Walls surrounding my person.
I can’t find a way out of this
Maze that I seem to have been
Wandering in for years. My path
Was set by fellow wanderers
(Most of whom were very good
Acquaintances). A trail etched
By heroes, drunkards, traitors,
And castaways alike. But mine
Own story is one of abnormality,
Of a man not unlike his fellow
Man, unless his fellow man
Perceived him differently. And
That is what they saw, not a
Handsome man of great stature,
Or nobility, but a homeless
Nomad roaming from townhouse
To townhouse in search of food,
Water, and a kind heart. The
Very heart I wish I had seen
Years ago¬Ö


Finding out that my land had been
Reclaimed was not the Beginning of
My plights, but it Might as well
Have been, for my Time was already
Running short; Debts to pay and
Scores that Were to be settled by
The more Unkindly of folk. So I
Ran into woodlands so unfamiliar,
Even a woodsman himself would have
Navigational troubles. Not only
Did The days provide little light
Through the immense canopy
Overhead, but at night it was
Darker than the caves beyond
My old hometown. So dark in-fact
That I felt uncertain whether to
Continue my journey or to turn
Back (which at this point was
Impossible, for I had Been turned
Around many times over). If the moon
Was visible I’d have used it as a
Compass, but To my dismay it took me
Three Long weeks just to find a
Clearing In the surplus of woodlands.


The pitiful town I came to was a far
Cry from the place that I had once
Called home. The peasants here
Couldn’t even afford the meekest
Amount of hay to create a fire
Outdoors, let alone a candlelit
Household. No taverns were visible,
And what little ale these poor
Excuses for villagers had was denied
To me. Apparently the lack of
Kindliness that I had tried to leave
Behind had followed myself to this
Place. One kind of friendliness that
I did find was shed by the village
Drunkard, who by several misfortunes
Had been plagued with an intolerance
Of fellowship. However, he was of a
Caring sort, “These greed ridden
Villagers will never yield any sort
Of supplement to people like you or
Me, if the strength is in you, I’d
Move on. There is no future for me,
And certainly not for you here.”
With those words I gathered what
little willpower I still had and went
On my way. I left the drunkard there
And to this day his words remain in
My head.


My bitterness for this lack of
Acceptance was overwhelming, and
Fueled a growing hatred for man. But
The winds calmed my restless Soul, of
Which would most certainly have died
If it were not for Nature’s ability to
Nurture it.


If not a person could seek
Companionship and finally grasp it,
That person would have been me. There
Is no question as to my faith, for I
Cannot believe in an entity that has
Not provided even the smallest bit of
Opportunity. If there is, or ever will
Be a hell, that is where I will spend
My eternal rest. If not my faith, then
What else could repel everything I
Strive for? Money, social status,
Luck, none of these had ever come
Within an arms length of me, and for
That I am forever bitter. But I could
Not forever dwell on such childish
Notions such as happiness and kinship,
I felt as though my life was better
Spent dwelling on more simplistic and
Achievable Goals. In my earlier days
The town storyteller told stories of
Riches that we could all find if we
Looked hard enough, but to me this was
Unrealistic and my treasure had for
Some reason been mistakenly delivered
In the form of being good with my
Hands, and not with cunning or


My journey took me to a town about as
Far away from my midpoint, as my
Midpoint was away from my “home.”
This town had a more pleasant appeal.
There Was a market of which I could
Take active participation. Apples,
Corns, scorns of food, and not only
Food, but ale and the like! Oh what a
Glorious day had fallen. Finally a
Place to rest my weary head and
Reintroduce my malnourished body to a
Practice that could return myself to
A revitalized state.


From this town a legend of all
Legends was told to me, from a tiny
Old, hunched over man with a long
Beard and fading twinkle in his eye.
“Above and beyond these hills, you
Can find a valley, a valley of horrid
And unimaginable torture and pverty,
An old village overrun by excessive
Pillaging and thievery. This is as
An effect following the creature’s
Departure. Oh the creature, that
Wicked being..,” this is where he
Stopped, and couldn’t speak further.
“Old man, what of This creature? Has
It taken leave to lands beyond the
Valley itself, or has it simply
Disappeared?” Nothing but silence
Could be heard, well, from the old
Man, the streets were still bustling
With carts and animals with their
Owners and without. So I set out to
Find more of this creature, maybe to
Bring peace back to a grief stricken


Clearly marked was the path I was to
Take; Valley of Mallare, a rough,
Winding road not suited for even the
Lowliest of peasantry. But
Persistently I Moved on, and my fears
Were consistently met by worse
Realities. My path took me Past oxen
Slaughter yards and what seemed to me
An abandoned shelter of sorts.
Investigation furthered my already
Wild imagination. Was it mind tricks
Of torturous horseplay? A cracked
Skull in the corner of the living
Quarters seemed uninviting, and seemed
A warning of things to Come. Through
Corridors and into cupboards, my
Curiosity continued to heighten my
Fear, but overwhelm my common Sense.
Finding the finely crafted weapons
And shields didn’t help to relieve
Discomfort, as the long decayed bodies
Scattered ‘round this shelter seem to
Say, “There is no hope.”


Further on my journey continued until
My destination came within reach, at
Which time my travels once again came
To a stand still. Up until that time
I had been looking forward to
Beholding a grand the valley, but
Upon arrival, I saw nothing but
Darkness, and felt nothing but a
Chilling breath pushing my body away.
This, to me, met that the occupants of
The long forgotten valley wanted my
Leave, so were they of evil? No,
Impossible, evil would have drawn me
In and corrupted my very soul. The
Evil there left long ago, in a
Caravan trailing miles as it departed.
So against all warning and all common
Sense, I entered what I thought would
Be my end.


Along with entrance to the valley
Came admittance to a world beyond
Anything I had ever seen before. A
Land with the inability to ever have
Light shed upon it again. Mallare
Looked to be a once mighty village
Brought down by a great army; a once
Prosperous land now forgotten and
Uncared for. Meeting a building of
Rotted wood and over abundant cobwebs
Seemed almost unavoidable. Nowhere
Was a busy street or loud market, but
Occasionally there were the silent
Screams of times past. Times that I
Could only image were unbearable.
Each remaining item left as a
Remembrance of a different peril.


The musk of mildew and decay filled
The air, leaving my newly revitalized
Body nauseous. As I continued deeper,
Past the empty stables and deserted
Tavern, it only became more apparent
That I was digging my own grave. It
Felt as if I had already died and
Was making my way through limbo.
Maybe the slaying of this creature
That Sits so vaguely poised in my
Mind, could Bring about a Change in
Heart of my fellow man. My thoughts
Of glory were disrupted by a noise
Unlike any I had ever heard. A screech
Shriller than even the most troubled
Of banshees (of which are just legend
Of course). After the prolonged
Silence, it was somewhat of a relief
To find I was not completely alone.
Although, at the same time, it was
Much a reminder of what awaited me at
The end of the road. Where was the end
Of the road I have been searching for?
Did I even have an idea of what I was
Doing? I Hadn’t equipped myself
Properly with items that could aid in
My quest for a creature that I have
Yet to see, and only existed (thus far)
In the mind of an old man I happened
Upon walking down the road. So I went
To the blacksmith’s shop. Aware that
I nedn’t money to purchase items, I
Left my belongings underneath a bale
Of hay beside the vacant town inn and
Headed towards the blacksmith’s. After
Searching for twice as many as one
Hour, I relinquished only a dagger and
A small iron shield. I packed my newly
Found belongings in a leather bag I
Found nearby and headed back onto the


The highest peak of the valley was a
Reminder of where I had fallen from.
My perch where I viewed life so
Proudly, somehow, was left unattended
To, cracking and breaking into pieces,
Until it could no longer hold my


I looked to the ground expecting the
Sight of my own footprints, but to my
Surprise they had already been neatly
Swept away. I hadn’t noticed the
Gentle wind flowing through the
Valley up until this point, but it
Was a welcomed guest. At least now I
Was accompanied by its crying. Ah,
Even the wind wept in pain for the
Suffering it had witnessed. As high
As the leaves stacked against the
Valley’s walls was emotional torture
Baked in memories through Mallore.
So scorched was it in fact that I
Found it hard to ignore the burning
Desire to leave. The valley was dark,
As most are, but was unusually black
For a full blazing sun breathing
Rays down Upon it.


Spurred by the lack of eventful
Happenings, my curiosity (that got
Me into that mess in the first place)
Began to take hold of my throat and
Strangle me into submission. Finally
Giving way I began to search the
Town. A staircase riddled with
Rotted holes led to the attic of a
Building of a significantly larger
Nature than its brothers. Atop the
Staircase was a hallway that led to
Two doors. One, when opened, turned
Out to be just a pantry, a closet of
Sorts. The second door was locked,
But not with a padlock, but a lock of
A sort I had never seen, and have yet
To see since.


Maybe my dagger could provide me
Passage into this Room. [Then a
Scream] the scream was soft spoken,
But bellowed with anguish. I rammed
My shoulder into the door. Two,
Three, four times Over! The wood was
Splitting so I continued pounding
Relentlessly. All of the strength I
Could muster was put into this single
Act of a reasoning I could not
Explain. Then the door gave way. My
Entrance was less than grand, but
Upon entry, there was nothing. The
Sun had faded outside and was
Replaced by a moon that directed its
Beams into an open window. A scream
And abled body was now replaced with
A void.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2004 Corey Sanderson (VvTracervV)
Published on Tuesday, March 30, 2004.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "Epic of Amierta [Installment 1]"

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  • A former member wrote: 'As I continued deeper, Past the empty stables and deserted Tavern, it only became more apparent That I was digging my own grave.' As perfectly said by purr_verse, 'Almost Miltonic in it's epic story style;' i must agree. Well done; quite moving...

  • Mistress Morbid On Tuesday, March 30, 2004, Mistress Morbid (455)By person wrote:

    God damn this was great. The imagery was so vivid and intense I could not even look away for single second. When is the second part coming? I cant wait! =) Morb

  • purr_verse On Tuesday, March 30, 2004, purr_verse (1038)By person wrote:

    Awesome, awesome work. Almost Miltonic in it epic story style... beautifully written, extremely compelling... I agree with knightmirror: the next instalment cannot come too soon. :) wonderful.

  • knightmirror On Tuesday, March 30, 2004, knightmirror (432)By person wrote:

    good shit here,extremely good shit.i can't wait for the next installment.superb imagery and phenomenal wordplay.thoroughly enjoyed.**** knight

  • Lynaes On Tuesday, March 30, 2004, Lynaes (878)By person wrote:

    Holy... Okay this just blew my mind, I can't even begin to express what I've taken from this right now... *clicks favs* Astounding, just incredible. ~L

  • Anth On Tuesday, April 27, 2004, Anth (1142)By person wrote:

    oh wow, im shellshocked, that last part especially was incredible, this is breathtaking and demands to be in my faves, ill be re reading this again and again

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