Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Yessenia (A Wizard's Faithful Tale))Children of the Amuc)

(A Wizard’s Faithful Tale)) Children of the Amuc)

Done in Spontaneous Poetic Prose

(Prologue) The origin of the name ‘Yessenia´, can be linked to a variable of truths, we know the name to—perhaps to be—Spanish in origin, (but could also be Chinese); it’s also spelled Jessena, with a meaning “Palm Tree”; yet still it can be linked to Arabic also: meaning: Flower. In this story, “Yessenia…”you are about to read, there is a Peruvian link, and it links to the Amuc (the small people), and its underworld metropolis (and the mother of Yessenia: Florencia, whom perhaps named her Yessenia for special reasons, such as, she knew her daughter would have to be strong as a tree, and soft, with fragrance, as a flower to survive in her time, and world).
This is the second part, or sequel you could say to the famous, ‘Florencia’ (saga) that takes place beyond the Andes in the Mantaro Valley of Peru. But not in antiquity, as Yessenia lived and her mother, but in modern times; so be ready to go back into the crust of the earth, the tunnels and mines of the Mantaro Valley, where a portion of the Andes surround it like a mother cuddling her child.

Index of Characters

1—The Amuc (little people of mines of the sierras)
2—The Wizard (the narrator for the most part of the story)
3—Yessenia, (Queen, and daughter to Florencia)
4—The Gardner (the antagonist of the story)
5—The King (of the Eastern Kingdom)

Note: the story you are about to read was written in what the author calls, spontaneous poetic prose (similar to the way ‘Florencia,’ was written), which took two days); Yessenia was written in two hours, not to include two poems at the end, which the author did the following day. This is not the first time he has done this kind of writing, without pause, and at the very moment it comes to mind; much of his poetry is written on the spot, and stories likewise; it allows for a free flowing mine, and it seems to come out more genuine. It was thereafter corrected. With only the prologue added on 1-31-2007, and the change of the main characters name from Ariel to Aurea to what it is now, Yessenia; done on: 1-26-2007. Rosa Penaloza de Siluk

The Story


The old wizard (hunchback) sat back against a hard and wide root hanging like a string, like a thick python snake from the dome of the cave, from the upper part of the inner cave of the earth (the crust of the earth), perhaps this section being 400,000-square meters in circumference. Thence he started to tell his tale of tales among the Children of the Amuc, above them, the Mantaro Valley of Peru. Here he sat gazing into their eyes, a jug of wine by his side, said he (in his charming and witty, rustic voice):
“Listen well, my young Amucs,” (pouring down some wine from an animal skin (odre). Then he placed it back along his right leg, and started to huff and puff, as if the air was too hot and thin, and he could not get enough, and when he did, it was to hot to hold in his lungs, and the children chattered about, waiting and listening.
Next, after a moment had passed, the old wizard, white bearded with long stringy hair, moved his poncho out of his way, waiting to get the children‘s undivided attention—and noticed an old man, a Gardner with tools, a pick, rack and ax, and bag of sawdust, standing by the children—bending a tinge as if wanting to, and getting ready to, listen.
Sweet, with smiles were the children as they looked on, here and there, and back to the old Wizard, several of them, all anxious to hear the tale from this wanderer, this wizard-barb of sorts.
“My great, great—seven times over, grandfather’s wife was the maid to the Great Queen Florencia, of the 7th century, if I recall correctly, and I know you’ve all heard of her, but have you’ve heard of her daughter’s striking tale?”
All the children looked dumfounded, and one said, “No,” and all the rest nodded their heads.
The old Gardner closed arms, wide eyed, bent himself closer to the speaker, as the young Amucs—remained in a daze and disbelief of suspense, —said the Gardner, “Forgive me sire—wizard for sure, such a tale no one knows, only legend says she had a daughter, no more!”
“Ah, pardon me, old Gardner,” said his equal in age, “a lion you are like she, and should you doubt the truth before you hear me?”
“Then speak on,” said the old Gardner, breast out, lips tight, as if in unbelief. Then the old Wizard put his hat down for those who wished to drop a coin in it for him.
“Now listen closely, I will tell you the tale, faithful it is (the old Gardner smiled as if he knew something, but was tightlipped).”

The children now sat back against rocks, one another, and so forth and on, focusing their attention on the speaker; you could hear also—here and there— hear little Amuc groans (heavily), then the old wizard poured himself another wine, the children had never seen a man consume so much wine in such a short time. Next the wizard pulled out a danger, a relic of sorts, very pleasing to the eyes. This startled the children, and got their undivided attention, as if a monster lizard had stuck out its tongue, ready to grab them.
“My greet, great… Grandfather gave this to me, it is the king’s knife, the one he went for, but could not find, because his wife had hid it under the bed, Florencia that is, as her two assailants cut off his head.”
“Holy root!” said a voice among the children of the Amuc.
“The maid, my great, great…seven times over, grandfather’s wife, took it after all had left the bedchambers,” explained the Wizard.

“And what of it?” asked the Gardner, a haughty implication to his voice.
“It has special powers,” clarified the Wizard, taking a drink of the wine, adding, “it can made a duck into an eagle, or a Gardner into a toad!” he said laughingly, which triggered laughter into the children until all were laughing, all that is, except the embarrassed Gardner for making such a statement. The old Gardner now had a flatly look on his rosy face.
“Let your eyes,” said the Wizard,” be your best judges.
“Perhaps a curse is on that dagger,” implied the Gardner.
“Yes indeed, there is one,” replied he Wizard, and I shall now tell you the legend behind the dagger, the curse, and the Queen, Queen Yessenia.”

In the face and heart and eyes of the Gardner, if one could see, and if any one had paid attention, one would have seen: frustration, anger, pain, hurt, he was shamed, or was he, he knew there was a curse, how did he know, but no one thought to ask him, or gave him much attention at all. Thus, he murmured, “Let the children go to Hell with you Wizard,” but no one heard him, except one lad sitting on a root near by him.
“Let us hear more, old Wizard,” said the child Amuc sitting on the root.


“As the fable goes, that has more truth to it than myth, Yessenia, was now the princess of the Eastern Kingdom, as the young king had taken her as a child, and raised her, now fifteen-years of age (the king in his mid 20s), he married her, and she gave him a son. Thus, she became Queen
…she had a tender heart, and gave him, the king, her husband, her foster father of sorts, whom was ten-years her senior, here heart and soul you could say, but it was in a normal day, un-expectant, he said to her, out of the blue, “Be gone…” just like that, not a frown, smile or any expression on his face, flat as could be. He threw a sack of gold coins on a table a few feet past her, he tossed them, and so he didn’t have to get too close to her. “Be gone he said,” a second time, “before I kill you,” then he added to that, “hurry” he said, “before I change my mind and behead you here and now.” She didn’t even have time to think (but her mind was racing):

(In the background you can hear and see several folks walking by the so called countryside as it is considered in the underworld, which is not of course the same as the surface: here in the underworld it is much more: rocky, with rocky formations all about, dishevel or rumpled landscapes, and deep crevasses in the earth all about, liken to glaciers, that if one was to fall into one, hundreds of feet he’d fall.)

Yessenia’s Heart

Beware, when love seems too fair
Too charming to judge,
It shall come, too hard to bare.

The hidden heart does not speak
It just shreds—rips, tares, and creeps.


“Tell us more,” asked a voice from the Children of the Amuc. Several more children had gathered about the several that were already there, a few parents had stopped by, children in hand, all anxiously listening now (waiting for the next sequence of events), and the pretentious Gardner, commented: “Tell us more about that dagger!”
There was a long moment of silence, darkness had rippled the circled of folks. And then after a drink of wine, the Wizard started back up:
“She was looking at the King, as he was looking at her, not a word was said for the moment, he was her morning and night, now in her mind, deep in a tomb, black rage was settling in (somehow the king must had know this, a few of the by standing folks thought as they listened on)) perhaps her mother had transferred her flaming genes as well as her flowery ones to her daughter)) Yessenia’s heart was lifeless, quenchless.”
Now the Wizard pulled out the dagger for the second time to show the kids, the one the maid had taken and handed down as an abloom, from family to family, the one that was proclaimed to have a curse on it. This startled the children again, to the point of grabbing back their attention.
Continued the Wizard, now holding the dagger in his hands to express by showing, the moments emotion, that took place a thousand years previously “Soldiers came suddenly upon the Queen—alas, with the dagger of her deceased father, the very one that her mother had hid, that the maid had found, and given to the daughter, whom kept it in her room.) They cut her throat with it, but she did spit out a few last words before she died (the king in fear, she’d get revenge on him, he felt he had to act quickly, or face the same fate, her father did against her mother: thus, like to like, child and mother.) So as the Queen bled like a pig, her words were as follows: ‘I will not rest in my grave until revenge on your family has been taken.”’
The Gardner now withdrew from the assemblage; the children were hanging on to the story like white on rice, “Tell us more, what happened to the King.”
“It was an empty curse, just a tale,” responded the Wizard, putting down the dagger for a moment, to hold the wine skin over his head, so as to allow the wine to pour into his mouth. Then he heard a voice behind him.
“No,” said the Gardner, “it is a true tale, my great, great, Grandmother, told me of it, and that every seventh born son, was obligated to seek out the holder of the dagger, even if it takes a thousand years, and cast revenge on the holder of it; Yessenia’s son, was my great, great, seven times over, Grandfather.”
The old Wizard turned his head, and as he did, the Gardner plunged the dagger deep into the Wizard’s heart. And so it was.


After Word

Sometimes those that seem as innocent as young flowers, swim in a bath of dark shadows—if triggered it can lead to flames; that is to say, if you take all, and she gives all, expect to receive nothing less; she had only time to give burning death from her eyes of the betrayer, as it was in this case (the king gave the dagger back to the maid, he was cleaver enough to see perhaps what the Wizard did not, life after death has a strong pull). It is what triggers t he sleepless powers of pain in the lost world of death and love, inside of us, we all have triggers. Who dares to pay the price, the king in this case was cautious indeed, and he counted the cost, to him, not to others. And the Wizard wasn’t faithful of course to his on tale, such as life, in the real world.


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