Well, I’ve secretly always wanted to write an epic of some sort. Like Beowulf or the Iliad, something so grand and fantastic, that’s it’s most surely out of the scope of my own talent. Regardless, if it’s worth aspiring to, it’s worth giving the old college try. So here’s a small look at something I started working on tonight, that could have potential, I don’t know. It’s unedited, probably a bit sloppy and needs to be tightened.
I’d like to get some feedback / criticism, any thoughts any of you that read this have. There’s little to the story right now, but I’d love to hear what anyone thinks.
With that being said, here’s an introduction to Artaxiad.
*****
Working diligently from the tallest tower
With sight over courtyard and kingdom
The clever old wizard plies his trade
Creating bubbling concoctions, tinctures,
Elixirs, potions and magical mixtures
An alchemist’s dream at his fingertips.
His snow-white hair thinning with age
Still falls over his shoulders and back.
A wispy beard of great length is yellowed
At the mouth from smoking garnal weed
Out of his favorite ornate wooden pipe.
Wearing simple black robes and pointed hat
He weaves his way through his laboratory
With fantastic ease, floating through the air.
Smiling and nodding his head at one vial
all while frowning and sighing at the next.
Artaxiad was the name he had gone by
For as many generations as the kingdom
Could remember and many, many more.
He had served dutifully under every king
Though recorded history would disagree
As old stories passed down through the ages
Would tell of an Artaxiad driven by madness,
plotting his deception against many kings.
Though stories were just that and never
Did any wise man know to raise any story
Above the sound of a whisper that would
Get lost in the cool harvest breeze
Lost to prying ears at the top of the tower.
He was both feared and revered by subjects
All were wary of his unholy magical prowess
Though few had ever seen it used before.
Inherently Meaningless 