Tak jsem se konečně dobral nějaké akce v oddělení svých anglicky psaných výtvorů. Předem ale jeden objev, co se tam válel neoprávněně: moje nejstarší přeživší povídka. Stáhnul jsem jí před pár lety z projektu rozjetého kdysi dávnodávnodávno "yaoistkami" z pikachu.cz... A zrovna teď anglickou verzi z starého DevArtu. Já věděl, že mám obě!
Navíc jsem tedy zjistil, že přeložená (anglická) verze je z roku 2005, což z této povídky s přehledem dělá vskutku mé ... druhé dokončené literární dílo. Tady je jeho začátek:
"The day was not special at all for this time of year. A hot summer Saturday was slowly turning into a cold Saturday evening, but the streets of the periphery of the city I was returning from my work to were deserted, and the walls of the low-rised buildings lining the streets only silently echoed my footsteps heading slowly, but steadily towards their destination. A loud noise sounded from a nearby alleyway and a black cat flashed through right next to me, followed by a bunch of blustering kids. I glanced at them with a smile and a memory of my own childhood spent so far away to the west of this alien countryside my work had dragged me to. I turned to the alley the hoard stormed out of and was suddenly captivated by a very unusual image." - Dog Brotherhood
Jak vidíte, můj sloh v té době byl šílený. Česká verze na tom není o nic líp.
Další věc co přežila je moje fanfikce ke hře Gothic. Nemám k ní žádný větší vztah, je spíš takovou kuriozitou. Jejíž datování jsem si bohužel rozhodil minule při přejmenování souboru. Nu, škoda.
"My story begun even before the barrier was erected. I was nothing but a simple digger haunted by his past too much to really care whether escape was possible at all or not. I used to spend all of my time in the Pass mine and when it collapsed during the barrier’s creation, I just transferred to the Old mine. Only in the hungry darkness did I feel at peace. Not once did I feel the desire to see the world above. The quarrels between magicians of fire and water, Gomez taking over the Old camp and Lee founding the New one along with the Free mine, the worship of a god called Sleeper by some folks in the swamp, those things came past my ears sooner or later, but I never felt any compulsion to take part in them." -Gothic FF
Pokud vím, tak jsem se nikdy nepustil otevřeně na půdu sci-fi, byť žánr urban fantasy se stal mým nejoblíbenějším, protože lidi jsou daleko zajímavější protivníci než draci a armády orků. Dokladem toho je moje Snow-trilogie Snowglobe, Snowman a Snowfall, která volá po pokračování, ale bohužel. První díl byl sepsaný volně, další měly být v soutěži pořádané každoročně společností SPUSA, ale nikdy jsem je neodeslal. Na každý pád jsou kratší než první část:
"Once upon a time, there was a small kingdom. There was a great castle with proud and mighty walls, small idyllic villages among the vast fields and forests. Was it spring, summer, fall or winter, everything was always covered with glistening white snow that made the lush plains and hills look even more peaceful than they were. The snow was all the realm ever had and ever needed. There was no need for farmers, as the glaze itself could sustain life. No need for craftsmen as everything underneath the eternal rime was ageless. No need for an army, as the horizon and sky itself were impenetrable. And no need for a king, as the laws couldn’t be broken.
"Ages and gods came and passed, nothing ever stirring save the snow, until one fateful day when the sky came crashing down on the slumbering land. Its falling shards crushed buildings underneath and ripped the very ground apart. The air came gushing out of the crack like blood from a mortal wound. The snow became dry and lifeless and so did the ruined earth underneath.
"The gods have lost interest in it. The plaything was broken and the spell of life, of the future, with it.
"Or was it?
"Carefully, I reach into the box overflowing with children’s drawings and toy parts, and take out the cracked snow globe, as lifeless as before in my hand. A single small snowflake drifts from the sky and rests in its place, followed by another and then many more.
"I look up to the grey sky, still and flawless as it has been since before I came to this world, as it will remain after I take my leave. Yet should it break, should it crumble – would there be anyone out there to weep for us?" -Snowglobe
Testing the Boundaries bylo přímo napsáno pro další ze zmíněných soutěží, ale zas se nedočkalo odeslání, protože webová stránka soutěže zkolabovala... Existuje v krátké verzi, která je výborná, ale krátká, pročež jí prezentuji celou:
"Under the scorching desert sun, the dreaded emperor’s fortress was ablaze itself. Whatever the flames touched they devoured – precious tapestries, furniture and the bodies of slain guards and slaves littering marble floors. Even the massive stone walls were starting to give in to the heat. With their master dead at the hands of his own heir, there was no reason for them to exist any more. Somehow they knew they could no longer contain what he had become.
"As drama demanded it, the moment the only survivor leapt out of a second-story window, the enormous structure collapsed, with a wave of heat razing all that stood in its path. From the dust and ashes in its wake, however, the last of the emperor’s sons rose slowly to his feet. Hell itself feared his father and, from what he gathered, he was destined take that legacy to an entirely new level.
"Right then, however, he lifted his eyes skyward. For the first time in his life, he was a free man. For the first time in his life, he smiled." -Testing the Boundaries
Následuje Deathday, moje nejnovější anglicky psaná povídka. Námět je zajímavý a výchovný, takže přemýšlím, že se k ní vrátím, byť nějaké drobné změny budou nezbytné.
"I opened the trunk with a spare key and revealed something just a bit beyond my wildest imagination: inside, upon a plastic sheet, rested the neatly folded body of a man in his early twenties, still warm and the crack in his skull still bleeding. He couldn’t have been dead for more than half an hour.
"This was going to be the best birthday ever." -Deathday
Nakonec návrat k fanfikcím a - Pokémon! Ruined je příběh poké-archeologa prokazující, že ještě roku 2010 (!!) jsem smýšlel jako každá druhá fangirl, jen naštěstí pro všechny se můj anglický sloh už drobet uklidnil.
“Say, doc,” Shiro interrupted, “are these pokémon you speak of capable of mating?”
Lime’s eyes squinted at the last word. “Yes. Why?”
The poké...man smiled innocently as he took his trainer’s hand by the wrist and brought it to his lips. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud.”
-Ruinded
Hormony jsou pěkný potvory. ^^;
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