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Worlds Ashes-fifteen stories in the English language

Mí anglicky psané povídky z  apendixu Worlds Ashed ,plus doslov celéknihy.Toto je poslední část Tales of God.


The End

T‚was the eve of Bartholomew the bone breaker.
The fourth Temple of the world was filled with silence.Walls made fromskin and man,grew silent as he passed.His cloak was made of desire un-fulfiledand clang with a silence even greater.Around his neck a necklace made in theshadow of King Albion‘s  cor­pse,while stil on thebatlefield,with wolfs death cries,was changing its never present shape to markthe fears of the suroinding walls.
Even walls are afraid,when someone gives them a reason.And he did.
Around every finger a ring,unmade of gold or metal,but of many thingsindeed.
One was the hush of men over a reaking dead man,found on the ground beforea kindergarden.
One was the silence,witch rules a hospital,when refering to the inevitableto the hoping arrivals.
One was the silence of an asylum,a filthy silence of prayers unspoken,sentupon beings that are if no one‚s  imagination to picture andthat,despite all sanity and logic,truly do exist and are as real as you andI  and maybe even more.
As he passed yet another gate,he viewed the decaying of evrything,witchwas to come upon this perfectnes.(He had no eyes,yet that did not mean he couldnot see)
And then a living came forward to the arival.As the living saw thenewcomer,he cried with desperation and ran away,And he,that had now ruled withintheese walls,had smiled,when he hapened to the boy.The soldiers guns were grandand their swords sharp.He eyed the soldiers,his children,as they made him happento many a man within here.And then,when he found he had done all he could,heturned around and left,but for a while.
Six days later the Grandmaster returned,with an army of fanaticallocals,each wearing iron made to kill and each being ready to fullfill itspurpose.The vice-commander of the soldiers had opened the gate and let them pasto undo his faithfull comrades but for a handull of grain,as had done themonk,who had let the men of arms herein.
And,as sword sang with sword,as scythe sang with skul,he walked amongstthem again and happened here and happened there.
He was the end and for many that day indeed.
That was a milion days ago.And stil mankind is the same.

The Warior

The warrior sat besides the road and clutched his gain.A  sword ofold,
stolen from a temple nearby.
He did not heed the priests warnings.He did not cry out to the heavens forhis soul.He did not beg for that,witch he may not recieve.He had plainly wishedthe sword.
The sword….….…a masterpiece of Iron,wielded intimes,when God and the Devil were one.He had seen as a child and since thenwished to posses it.Not the pre-aranged marriage,that united their two fuedinghouses,not all the work made for the duke,not all the killing in the Kingsarmy,could fill the space within his soul he discovered,when he looked upon thatsword.
And now he had it.And although he had heard the marching army of theThundergod,he refused to pitty and spent his last moment within the happines ofthe sword.HIS sword.
And that was all that mattered.
And then came the end.It was much more painfull,then he thought it wouldbe.

Food

The last priest died.That was a long time ago now.
Through the sands of the deserts of New York he had saled.He felt food.Notlong away.He had smeled….….…fire and iron,He hurried like longago,in hopes of highest.
He met no one of his race in fifty years and it was asumed,that he was thelast.This made him smile.
He had reached the air briefly through a dune and light had long fadedaway.He did not see the sun in four centuries,since it went out.It was not coldthough.And generaly one could stil see.No one knew why,and no one bothered.Itwas.
And he knew he was close.He prepared his pose and leaped upwards,breakingconcrete with his head.And quickly he moved forwards,through all the objects tohis meal and with a bite delivered the end upon the last man.

Another Heaven

Another sea of wine,surounded by beautiful angels,their singing choir morepleasent,then the smoothest word.Another chest of diadems as grand as a manshead.Another kingdom,where they wished him King.Another Goddess of InfiniteBeauty,that wished him her husband.
He had created a programme long ago,to deliver salvation within a singleilusion,in a virtual world of endless joy.
And now,after eight centuries,he wanted not but to leave,but could not,forhe did not make a return possible,for he thought,in all his ignorance,that hewould be happy forever.
And now all he longed for was to be free,yet never could be.His Hell wasHeaven.

His Crime

He had averted it.Once again.He had defied another apocalypse,breakinganother death angels wings,choking another hound of doom uponit‘s  leashe.A­nother day was to pass.
And he in heaven looked pleased and eyed his people and masacre here andgenocide there,and when he woke from extasy with blood on his lips,he paussedand once more became aware.Aware of what he had done,of what his lust had madehim do.It was uncontrolable from the wery begining.
(But one day,the apocalypse will come and they will judge Him for His sinsand his lust shal stand there and herself acuse him)
He waits a while and then remembers the begining of His Crime.
At first he had began to let himself loose upon his angels,yet non couldportray such ignorance and guilt,as he wanted.And so he created love.
And neither could die like he wanted.And so he created the electric chair.
And so many had fallen,that all the rest flead his creation.And so hecreated Earth.

Limited Usage

When all was young,they made him,for they needed entertainment.
And they watched as he had toiled,and thought and loved and died and theylaughted aloud for all time,for that was the nature of things.
But one day,whe all began to age,they have grown bored of him.No morecould his hard toil be a source of comment,no more could his love and hatredamuse them,no more could his death make them laugh.They began to watch him withless joy and then with none at all.
And then one of them came and talked and spoke and it was understood andone day man was made.
And he had been diferent,as he had a body and face,and none lookedalike.And he began to toil,to think,to love,to die and they had laughted andlaughted.
And him,who they made at first,they left behind and he had left them aswell and ceased to be.
And one day,when all had aged,man had bored them as well.
….….….….….….…­.….….….….….….…­.….….….….….….…­...

The Rose

A  rose one day had grown in the desert.And the Greater of the sandshad disliked this and sent his urges to the heavens.And all the Gods hadanswered,that that rose should and shal be.And the Greater feared,for one flowerwas not an enemy,yet it was life.Wihin his kingdom,that even daemons avoided,wasa thing that lived,that had breathed the un-breathable air of the deserts,witchhad hovered over the burning sands over sixty thousands mileniae.
And yet,though the water he had stolen long ago,though all but tearsremained within his kingdom, stil the flower grew.And he sent his firstborn todestroy that flower.And the first born went away and never was seen again.And sodid the second-born and third-born.And when fate had repeated itself a a fourthtime,the Greater called his last son before himself and urged the mission,for aprophet had secretly told him,that only „the last“ may kill theflower.And so he had sent all four to secure the fifth‚s  success.
And the fifth never returned as well.
And the Greater had grown furious and sent all his soldiers one by one toperish to that flower,numbering twelve thousand three hundred and forty three.
And then he sent all his people (for all respected and fearedhim,regardless of an army) one by one, numbering a total of twelve milion threehundred thousand.
And he called within his palace and no-one answered.
Sudenly,he realised what that meant and cried with fear.He ran through hispalace and he ran from house to house and from burge to burge and all was thesame.
He was all alone.The last within his kingdom.
And he went forward,crown and al,to the rose.He fell before her and withone mighty pull took her from the ground.And the Greater did not see hiswork,for his soul was draged away,to the world of spirits,for the love of theGod‘s  to that rose.
But the body,soaked with the great hatred of it‚s  soul wentand completed his Greatest work and fell downward dead.It was taked away bythings of the sand,while next morning,of that rose only a pile of dust remained.

Love of the People

Witch King of Kings may say,that his kingdom is truly his,that all hispeople love him and forever shal?
He that threatens with pain eternal,with fire endless,with sufferingforever.
This King does so and many bow to his emisars with fear.He takes theirlove,that is false and delicates upon it,for him,he had never bothered withpurity,or truth.
Look upon the world,he alegedly made.All the suffering,all the pain.Onewonders,if he did not die and already is damned.
But this world was once free,before He came and when HE stil reigned.Thenmen lived in peace eternal,glory endless,joy forever.And then He arrived fromfar away,hungry for a world,and Killed HE that made it.Yet no one apealed tohim,wished from him,killed for him.And so he turned back the clock and inventedthat witch is the oposite of good and all the years of happines ceased to be,astheir creator.
So what shal you do,when one of his emisars shal wish from you loyaltyeternal?
Mindragos was upon his dying bed and made many sins to God,but was not infear,for he was beyond his reach.All his life,he heard but cries and screamsthat were not holly words,but yeling out fire in the name of the light.
He took of his helmet and fell in the welcoming arms of the moon,hisresting place,and no hell he burned in,no purgatory he suffered in,he hadsilence and peace,not like from God.For he loved him not.

For a sight

The towers of Babylon towered high above the world.Through their endlesshalls the wind blew as he had blown for a time immemorable.The old fasets werefaceles though those ages,old faces,
masterworks,at witch many a people marveled for their complexity,were longgone,their shapes barely concievable.
Not that any had watched them in the past thousand ages.
And now….….…..a sound!An ever beating choir not heardfor so long.Step.Step.It was there,the walls WERE NOT mad,as they as firstthought.
A  tired figure passing below a pair of lions made of stone,biggerthen ten men each.Through doors of such making that,even now,one could,throughun-thinkable age and fall,that turned many a detail inton dust,seeit‘s  greatnes.But he that passed them did not notice them,for heknew them all too well, from better times,when all was new and grand,and thesight witch would he now see would make him weep,although to another it wouldnot make sense to do else,but to admire.
And passed he did all the wonderous chamber after chamber,through the gateof the sixteen thousand serpents,past the grand torso of a bull the size of ahouse and bellow the wounderous shapes and carvings of the seeling in the hallwithout walls.And he,after a journey of a year,had finaly reached an outerbalcony,that looked outside.
He took a deep breath and then walked towards it.
An endless cavalcade of Towers,of wonderous endings and monuments beyondnumber from one horizon to the other.But nothing else.
He stood there in the arctic of the winds and now knew,that his fear wasreasoned,when he realised he built ever so endlesly and without hindering,thathe forgot.And now,when he looked greatly,he could see a minor opening,un-buildedon,before another complex that stretched endlesly,and far away,where one wallended,another began.He stood in cold,yet did not feel it.He sank to his kneesand a tear was snatched from him by the wind,the first such in all ages.He wasalone.

The Worlds

It was long ago.Five worlds of peace,of harmony,of joy.They were of thetrol King,but were far older,of the oldest making.And they showed what the Worldcould never have.Peace.And the trol King watched them,before he went toslaughter,for such was the nature of the trol King.
And when his palace,his jewels and concubines turned into dust,young kingAlbion walked within the ashes.And amongst all the death,he found theworlds.Each was unto him but a smal globe and at first he wished to crushthem,but then his eyes looked upon them,,and he saw.
From that day the worlds were his.He did not share with none of the giantswhat they were,but treated them most respectivly.
And as he passed away,at his final batle,the final war of thegiant‚s  before the Ragnarök,they took all his things and wished toburn them,so as he could use them further stil.
And one giant was given this task.He was young and firesome.He looked uponthe gathered things, before the fire was to began,so as nothing would bemissed.And then he saw the worlds.And he did not wish to smythe them and did notknow what to do.So he sat down and cried,and then the worlds spoke to him.Theiris only one way that we may live,they said.And he listened,as they spoke,andwhen they finished,he took them and went.
A  door that was made long ago and lead into darknes,they found.And hetook the worlds,looked upon his own and left upon a path,witch may not beabandonded,once begun.
And through darknes he went and through darknes shal go,for the path islong and leads far away.
But he does not regret.He shal cary the worlds forth upon that path,whereall the shadow‘s  shater his hopes and dreams,until he shal reach theend of Eternity.And then he shal lay the worlds in the places from witch theycame and finaly shal lay to rest beside them,to guard them ever stil.
Who,of you,would act so?

Of Holy Akropolis

Ghazi,who was once King sat upon the bench and before him lay the HolyCity of Akropolis, the dream of the defenders of the Kingdom of Jerusalem atAcre.The great Temple of God,made of Silver,stood there and shone upon thespheres of sleep,surounding all around.Ghazi had then stood up and decided toleave.
He had been siting on that bench for over forty years and the man,who hadsaid he would come there never came.So he had no great reason to stay,did he?
He walked in the city and was amused,as he saw old priests,in theirsleep,wandering and half-awake citing scripture and calling holy names.Therewere of all beliefs and they believed this cite to be THEIR holy city,when intruth,it was the holy city of itself,not subjected to any of the Heavenlyones.One man he had recognised.An old holly man whom he met in Baghdad,when hewas a child.
The holy man taught him numerous wise things and Ghazi had alwayswondered,how wise this man is and how blessed is he to be his student.
Here,he saw him,writing down wisdoms from an old book.It was not for thepaper,the re-writing would fix it in memory,when he would awake.Ghazi smiled.
Then he decided to follow the man.The holly man closed the book and wentaway,eyes stil fixed on the paper,he held in his hand.He walked through thestreets,almost runing into Plato and Averroes.
Ghazi watched him,pasing under the Great Golden Head of the lion,witchspat water,witch disapeared before it hit the ground.Around it numerousphilosophers were self-discusing Henotheism and Kathenotheism and theOmnipotence paradox,but this paradox they did not even see.One man did and waslying on the ground,his face underneath and wating.He had a simplephilosophy…...wait until a drop lands and it is exposed,or stay thereforever.It did not seem so ilogical,when you were here.
Ghazi folowed the holly man over streets made out of mist and others madeout of desire and others made of tobaco.But the most holly streets,the oneswho‚s  paths were made of wisdom itself,witch demonstrated all in itscomplete forms,he ignored.All of them he had passed without a second thought.
And so they came before a building.It was as high as a stalion for agiants horse.It had many sides, far too many to count.It was made of darkstone,decorated with lines of shining gold.
The doorway was obstructed with bars and chains.The holy man instinctivlywent to a nearby statue of a lion and when he touched it,he disapeared.Ghazifolowed him.
Within the library (for that was,what the building was) was another suchstatue,as to help searchers of knowledge,false or true,within the Gods forbidenstorage.
Here were milions of shelves and on each a milion books.Not one was thesame.And there the holly man returned the book to a shelve and left,unnoticingSocrates,screaming in the corner.He was being tortured for delivering a cut tothe pages.(The libraries caretaker loved his books beyond imagination).And Ghazireturned to his bench and waited and in just a thousand years and one day theman did arive.

In Baghdad,a few decades ago a man awoke.And as he did he tried with allhis might to remember what he had seen and then walked away,as to catch PrinceGhazi,to deliver some words of wisdom and gain his admiration.

Naught

He was pious.All his life he rejected joy and acted only to please hisLord,so that he may one day walk with him in paradise.
And hsi greatest hour,when it came upon him,was to be his last and he washappy ebyond anything else,that he may finaly see HIS face and walk within hisrealm.Tears were many,when he left,but he did not hear them fall,for himeternity had now begun.
And he could not surely say when he left this world,as a sleeping man maynot say when he fell asleep.And it was a while before he noticed that he is nomore.And he was happy indeed and waited for the Celestial Kingdom to openit‘s  gates before him.Yet all was….…...not.
He looked and looked,yet he did not see,for there was naught to.
An he that wished for death more sooner so,had now seenit‚s  realm and understood,that death he should have feared.He raisedhis head and screamed,yet not a word came out.He yelled and yelled and yelled.Hewanted God to tell him,why he is damned.
And he was not,for if he would cease to think that he himself was,then hewould be not and all worries would be gone.
But religion‘s  saving hand had smythen his hopes,for when heneeded a God to come and give him judgment,in all his knowledge (and a wise manhe was),he was a fool.
And so he waited:
when India was taken,
and when the great beast of the east had fallen,
and when the sun went out,
and….….…..

The cliff

He smiled,whe he gave him his realm.He did not know why then.Now he did.
In his life as a man he had went to the sea when troubles grew beyondlimits.He would add his sorrow to the boundless depths of the sea and themajesty of the clif,on witch he sat.
He would thank and praise this place in times of plenty and once again behere in times of need.
And he wondered how eternity must be,for surely this place is eternal.Andhe dreaded the day of his death,for he knew that he would no longer be able towatch the sea and the clif.And prayed for one more day,everyday.
And then,in his last hour,to his bedside came a man.And he had an offer.He(that lay stricken on the bed) would be forever and feel time as do theGod‚s  and be granted the cliff as his own Kingdom.
All he was asked to do was drown but a man every ten years or so.
And he said yes.
And so he sat upon his cliff,un-touched by now or then.
And his first man came forward and he was respectfull to the sea,so he lethim live.And then another came and had no respect at all.So he threw him in thewaves,realising too late,that it was his own son.,aged in the last decade.Toolate he was,too late and slow to know.
And in sometime he had drowned another man and saw,that it did not feelbad at all.And so he drowned a third and fourth andfifth….….….
And one day he had drowned his sixtieth.He was pleased and then he lookedwith joy to his cliff…...
and saw it gone.Six centuries had passed,for him but an eye blink,and hisbeloved cliffs were gone.
He wished to leave,but could not,for the man,with whom he bargained cameforth and said that he must stay where he must,so long as there is the sea anddrown men until it is not.
And so one day his sixth hundredth met his fate.For that he bargained solong ago,for he thought his cliff eternal and did not even look upon ittwice,before it had left forever,for he felt as the gods,and they cannot differseconds from centuries.But now it was too late.One day the sea shal begone,butuntil then he shal murder his former kind,for a lost glimpse of a former eternalplace.

The Cliffs of Go-Past

There are many mountains.Many indeed.Yet there is one special that no onecan see,but the survivors of the troll folk.And they are not many.
Once there were many,but that was long ago.Their King was evil,allknew.And all knew that he would bring them to their end,yet none hindered him onhis way to the throne,when his father died,
for the right divine could not be broken,nor be shatered.
And all ocured as a prophet said,when the King was born.The peace betweenthe king of Albion and that of Semperi was broken and many wars had followed.Andin the end,Albion had died as their own king(though the first shall rise,whenthe fate of the god‘s  shall come,while the second shal remaindeceased for all eternity),disa­creter ofSemperi‚s  hou­se,but it were the giants who have won, for theywere more,because,whe­never a giant met a troll,it was the giant to walkaway.
And at this night every hundreth journey of the sun,the survivors of thetroll kin came and watched as all flew past this cliff,without noticing it.Theyknew of it,for it was the places of Semperi‘s  mar­tyrdom andfor that they could apologise at least by noticing,as Semperi did (and so hismurderors).
And every time they that arrived were fewer and fewer and soon near nonehave apeared.And those who did laughted,as what monsters history presentsthem,for it needed and evil banished and it did them.
History is written by the victors,and those they were not.

A  Haitian Christmas

The eve before christmas and all through the land numerous presents andglorious decorations were bought and made and all through the Imperial palaceechoed alcoholic laughter.Noble after noble,sons of fisherman elevated,came andswore their endless loyalty.And many a baron became a Prince and many a Prince aDuke.All drank heavily into the night on the health of Faustin III.,by the Graceof God Emperor of Haiti.And the Emperor then rose and apologised,for he neededto leave the room, because he had some urgent papers that waited for hisimperial seal.And as the generous monarch left the hall,his epaulets shining asbright as his countless medals,in the farthest corner of that Imperial Hall aheart began to fill itself with hatred.
Imperial Chancellor De Sutho was going through the countless halls androoms of the Imperial palace.He had a thing to report to the Emperor.
He found His Imperial Majesty at a table in The Grand Hall of Elevation,where raising the status of men was taken care of.Numerous candless were lit,soone would normaly fear a flood of hot wax.
And the Emperor sat within his chair of finest dark wood and wrote.
He did not notice his trusted asistant in the ways of ruling,until whenthe Chamberlain let loose a silent cough.
„Ah,Piere,I  was just going through the Elevation ofBaron…...“.
„A  terrible thing,my lord!“.
„What?!“.
„Your Daughter,the Exalted Imperial PrincessMatylde….…..“.
„Yes?!“.
„She was seen with plain man from the Imperial gardens!“.
„….….….…And what is his name?“.
„Alexandre de Beur.“.
„Hmm….….…..“.
The Emperor took a piece of parchment,but instead of a death sentence,hebegan to write an Elevation into the Grand-Ducal Rank.The Chamberlain wished toobject to this „blasphemous“ idea,but was interupted by the soundof fall.
The Emperor walked slowly to the window,from witch this was heard and theChamberlain followed him with a lantern.When it was lit,they saw that in theplace,where the Imperial Garbage Containers stood alone,as the sole messengersof the truth,that the apocalypse must come,did lie the mangled and disfiguredbodies of Her Imperial Highness,Princes Matylde and gardener Alexandre de Beur.
And throught the halls came not one but many of men in arms not theEmperors loyal and firstly plundered the Imperial Hall and killed all andevery,but for one,whom they did not slay,but gave their oaths to.
And this man,who was Baron Pierre De Courté,had grown to hate the Emperornot of his politics,nor his ideas,but plainly that his neighbour had become aPrince and he but a Baron.
And it was himself,who lead fifty soldiers to the place,where the Emperorand his Chamberlain were alone and unarmed and slew them with numerous works oriron.
But the Emperor,giving devine resistence,finaly fell when De Courtéhimself looped of his head from behind,and the remains of the Monarch and themonarchy fell on the ground and began to turn a piece of parchment ir-readablewih blood,the one on witch was ordered the turning of „The son of PierreDe Courté the Elder,Master Fisherman“ into „The Most ExaltedPrincely Style“.
And so came the Republic of Haiti upon the day of christmas,and allthrough Haiti were made many murders and spread many pain and men who werenobles denounced their loyalty and still were slain.
This was the gift to the people of Haiti.

Doslov

Omlouvám se,pokuď jsem vás nudil.
Co jiného by se mělo říct na místě doslovu?
Nevím.A  tak už nenapíšu nic.