Перевод крыльев Павшего Луча

Тем временем благодаря отзывчивой переводчице Анне Коньковой-Никитиной мы подготовили первый авторский лист "На крыльях Павшего Луча".

Выкладываю семь страниц, начиная с боя на гладиаторской Арене:

The arena was flashing with emotions and joyful screaming of the spectators. It was burning with thirst for fight, sparkling with excitement and pop-eyed interest for bloody feast. Making use of a small break the adepts managed to surround the beast, stunned with lightings. The scorpider was shaking its ugly muzzle in rage, cracking its claws and hissing like a thousand of snakes. However, bolts kept stinging the monster, forcing it to surrender. 

  One of the senior adepts cast a glowing scarlet lance, which broke the beast’s armour with a loud crack and flashed with bright blinding flames. 

  The scorpider stepped back. Its red rage-filled eyes glared with such hatred that one of the spectators dropped his flatbread. His neighbor peasants laughed, pointing fingers at the loser. 

  Priests showered the gigantic beast with fireballs, arrows and lightings, making it even angrier. The monster raised its claws above its head in an attempt to defend itself from the fierce attacks. And then… it unexpectedly threw a net onto the careless adepts. The net tangled the two with its deadly threads, and the scorpider dragged the captives close. 

  The Master priest rapidly took out a flask with gleaming golden liquid out of the pliers of his mantle. Before the claw could reach the adepts, he threw the flask at the beast. The flask split. In no time exclamations of amusement flew over the tribunes, a glorious fountain of hundreds of colorful lights and sparkles burst, and they started to form a ghostly sword of exquisite beauty. The sword drew a circle over the Arena, growing larger and larger, and then smashed the creature cutting it in two. The scorpider spitted another net, raised its claws up as if pleading the Emperor for mercy and fell down on the sand bleeding green. The Master priest bowed to the spectators yet no one noticed his face had gone pale of exhaustion.  

   As the adepts were going inside, the spectators were applauding. Slaves aligned in two rows and started to demonstrate why the Emperor’s guard had had so many casualties, before the riots in Clevia had been taken down. The Clevians knew their chances to survive were slim, but once in a blue moon the Emperor granted life to those who did their best at the show. That’s why each participant grabbed the chance like a drowning man was still dabbling while his lungs were filling with water. 

  Screams and shouts rolled over the place like a wave as the show promised something more exciting than a duel with a monster. The fighters’ staffs made of argan tree wood were looming as if being alive and having become evasive creatures. The dance of doomed slaves both frightened and charmed. Rogley showed the best, his ward became a ‘flying invisible’ and was drawing deadly sketches in the air. Kannes made his best to catch up with him, while Lucius gasped and almost dropped his staff. 

  Emperor Ahavus was sitting on the beautiful throne, glancing around with a smile. Majestic statues of white marble portraying legendary winged warriors alluries were looking down from above. They looked so vivid like they were about to stroke their broad wings, shaking off stone dust like an everlasting dream, and fly over the crowd. Ahavus had hardly raised his hand and a slim Arofian maiden handed him a silver cup with a bow, and the musicians started playing a joyful tune.

The slaves started moving faster, like some wondrous dancing creatures. Only a really watchful warrior could have noticed that each Clevian had his own unique style, and thus the captives’ movements made up a curious picture. 

  The Emperor smacked his lips in satisfaction and patted his pet, a huge two-headed saber-toothed monster. The Yrrh’s feline eyes gleamed with wild awe.

The musicians went off as if following gestures of an unseen conductor. None of them longed to convert into a slave so they were taught to obey all orders without saying. 

  The Clevians aligned and bowed to the spectators. Some of them were catching breath. Sweat was streaming down their mighty bodies. Other captives were not sweating at all, despite their brilliant dancing. Being experienced rebels, they realized that they had to accumulate as much force as possible for the final fight. Then they might grab their ghostly chance to survive in this furious show. 

  The Arena stunned awaiting for the sign. Most of the peasants waited with childish joy on their faces. Some of them eyed hungrily the dishes served at the upper level by the gorgeous dark-skinned slave girls brought from Shoore. Not many took into account that any of them could be standing on the sand counting last moments. Common people’s lives cost as much as the slaves’ in the nobles’ eyes. That’s why, probably, it attracted them co much.   

  The merchants were looking with reverence at their Emperor, their protector and patron and the most notorious butcher in the Northern lands. Some of them grabbed their purses as if a touch of gold could have helped them forget which price had been paid for some sins. 

Ollindorf, one of the richest in the Empire, eyed each and every moment of the fight like a vulture, dreaming of exactly the same glorious show in his own manor. Some of the most influential nobles carried out magnificent plans whom of the slaves to bet on, while the slave girls were flying among them at the upper levels, righting everything down on the parchment scroll. Some nobles were thinking of how it was better to hire mercenaries, ravage some neighbor’s land under some simple reason and make anyone else’s property theirs for a scratch. The others were simply watching the show and the female slaves, who could be easily bought at the elite auction, or had a small talk with friends.

  The Emperor guessed which intrigue each bet or gesture disguised, but even he was unable to predict everything. Ahavus loved Arena just for that. It infected everyone else with lust for killing as a mad monster. It revealed the darkest parts of one’s soul, whether that of a spectator or a participant. 

  Soon the most attractive thing would start. The spectators would receive their usual show and the sand would be saturated with blood. 

  The Emperor savored the moment pretending, what a sum would happy merchants spend on the construction of new arenas in other towns. What a number of rookies would rush to join the guard, for a chance to become famous once, a public favorite, the Hunter. Finally, what a sum would be added to his treasury by the most classy and exacting virtuosos! But everything must go on perfectly to achieve this. Violent punishment for the rebels supposed to minimize protests of the crowdб and еру Clevian fanatics would think twice before making up a new coup. Unless after some Songs of Blood there would be no men left in whole Clevia, who were able to fight. It was a very spectacular execution, was it not?

  Ahavus rose from his throne and raised his right hand. The Emperor’s ring flashed scarlet in the sun. Marble statues beside him looked like bodyguards ready to take down any squirt, who dared to approach the ruler without adoration.  

  Suddenly the flapping of mighty wings broke up devout silence and for a moment it seemed that the statutes took off. The spectators cheered, looking up. Huge white birds released by the best huntsmen of the Empire were set off over the Arena. The flock kept flying over the shocked crowd, keeping up their complicated order. It was impossible to know how huntsmen managed to train the birds, who now formed a perfect ‘Ghmel’ rune.

‘Ghmel’ stood for ‘Power’. 

Probably the dwarven magic and other secrets had something to do with it. 

In the meantime, from the appositive towers of the Arena even more birds kept taking off. Yet now they formed quite a different rune, which was ‘Tshellas’, ‘Freedom’.

When the winged heralds covered the sky over the giant cup of the Arena with white blanket, and the beams of sun stubbed it through with golden blades, a gasp of admiration flew over the crowd. Peasants stretched their arms out like kids in attempt to touch the miracle, screaming and crying of joy. Merchants tried to calculate approximately what a fortune this minute-long show could have cost. Only barons and dukes frowned as long as they knew the sum they would have to pay when the taxes rose once more. 

Ahavus raised his hand. The guards halted. The Arena went silent. 

“We have a great celebration today”, the Emperor said, watching the spectators with his piercing glance. “It is the First Chant celebration of the year. So I have prepared something special for you.” 

  “Long live the Emperor!” 

  “Long live Ahavus!”

  “Our glorious leader!”

As the excited roar subsided, he went on.

  “We have started a long journey. Out Empire is growing and each of you takes part in this growth. Every peasant who is seeding grain, every craftsman, who is working in his workshop from dawn till dusk, every merchant or a noble also takes part in it. But one common idea unites us, as all of us wish to make our country even stronger.”Ahavus seemed to burst out of pathos. The Emperor smiled meaningfully. “However, our enemy does not sleep. Thanks to the Lamerian warriors’ courage we have managed to put down the coup in Clevia. Our neighbors decided to stab us in the back, ravage our land, take our children captives and entrenched upon our most sacred principle – our freedom!”

Ahavus made a dramatic pause to warm up the crowd. Slaves glanced at one another in bewilderment. The young rebels failed to understand what had the defending of their homeland from lamerian attacks had to do with devastation someone’s lands, capturing children, and especially – with abuse of someone’s freedom. Probably, the Emperor had a peculiar sense of humor and took the refuse to pay huge tolls for foray. Elder Clevians sneered and clutched their staffs harder. The veterans knew everything perfectly well. Rogley spat, clenching his jaw. Kannes made a few careful steps to get closer to his friend. Mahren did the same, while Lucius was batting his long beautiful lashes in misunderstanding. A peasant grinned and threw an apple at him but missed. 

“Who are your enemies?” Ahavus cried out. “Who is stealing your wheat? Who is flouting what’s scared for us? Who is tenslaving our women and children? They are here, right before you! There they are!”

  “Scums! Robbers! Murderers!” mercenaries and other warriors shouted, warmed up with the flamy speech.

  “Miserable desecrators! Heretics!” noble Inquisitors and other priests shouted.

  Some slaves frowned a little, others went pale, and the rest, who were the most experienced, held their staffs hard, realizing where the wind was blowing to. It was just another stupid speech to heat up the crowd.

  “Die, bloody Clevians!”

  “Let they wash up with their blood!”

  “Long live Ahavus the Fair!”

  The Emperor raised his hand again, feeling that the crowd was overwhelmed with emotions. It was exactly the thing to heat them up with.

  “But we are not the ones who carry out stupid revenge! Clevia is a part of our Empire!”

The captives looked at each other, having found out that their homeland unexpectedly became one more flag on Ahavus’ map.

“That’s why we act fairly. Those Clevians, who win in the First Chant, will go free. But they must redeem their betrayal in the fair fight with other rioters!”

The slaves shivered with fear. They expected being baited with lions, giant scorpions or cannibals. But how could they fight against their own neighbors, friends or relatives? 

  A wild earsplitting hum rose over the Arena. Hundreds and thousands of voices gathered into thunder-like roar. 

“Freedom for the winners! Freedom for the winners!” 

“Let them redeem it with blood!”

“Freedom and blood! Freedom and blood!”

The Emperor waved his hand as a genius conductor, directing a giant orchestra. And the flock of birdlike creatures rushed down. 

“Looks like our Emperor outdone himself,” the Viceroy chuckled. “He heated them up so much those idiots would happily throw themselves onto the dragon’s jaws! And we must catch the opportunity, Rylin. Go to that village. You know what you must to, don’t you?”

  “Certainly High Viceroy…” lieutenant’s eyes were a bit glazed over, but it didn’t seem strange amidst all this surrounding madness.  “I… won’t let you down.” 

When only a few feet were left till the upper tiers, the winged heralds slowly soared up in the air, arousing a storm of applause. Then the birds formed a circle above the lower tiers, occupied by peasants and craftsmen. Something was glittering in the beaks of the white magicians. Musicians played an amazing tune, encouraging people to dance and laugh. The birds cried, and true generosity glittering in the sun poured down upon the awed crowd. Glowing, bright as ancient Chromlian treasure charity was raining from above with jingling of gold coins.People sprang up, trying to catch the shiny circles. Peasants elbowed each other, falling down and rising again, shouting and laughing. 

Three cells opened up in the farther end on the Arena, and three scorpiders were let out. Those were one and a half times bigger than the previous participant of the bloody show. The beasts rushed at the Clevians gathering in the center. And that very moment the slaves realized the price of Emperor’s granted freedom. If they were not fighting against one another, the monsters would tear them up.

Kannes grasped his staff so hard his knuckles went white, and stared at Rogley. A lot depended on him the time and yet he looked suspiciously calm. Mahren bit his lip to blood but didn’t even feel it. He watched the scorpider crashing the slaves, as a peasant cropping the sheaves of wheat. Lucius sobbed and called for his mother, and Kannes turned away not to see his childish eyes. 

More and more coins were falling from above. Ahavus was standing between the marble statues looking like some ancient god, having descended to earth for his bloody feast. Sun beams were glowing like flame. The spectators were spluttering with joy. The Emperor smiled.  If everything in the village went as planned the first Shard would be his. And soon dozens and hundreds of the Falling Light worlds would join the Empire. But if the Viceroy failed, chaos would swallow the land. The stakes were too high. But still there was time. Let people celebrate and dance with ringing of the Emperor’s Generosity. 

  But once the cries of joy subsided, the Arena started to fade away like a bright mirage. Only the birds remained. They were flying above, flapping their wings and crying loudly. 

Chapter 1. The girl and the night. 

“The Veil of Shadows is a unique place where  

shadows of creatures, called talenghas, get. 

These prankish creatures enjoy  

entering the human world at night 

playing with human imagination. 

The scientific basis of this fact has not been studied 

completely yet, but it’s been already proven that they lead  

to unusual consequences for those who manage  

to watch talenghas’ dancing without falling asleep” 

Ksantifius Grotto, Meregost University dean 

  People in the woods looked like ghosts, having some weird reunion. It seemed they all would fade away in green giants’ kingdom in a minute or so. Lieutenant made a sign, and figures in dark cloaks disappeared right away among the trees in order to station themselves. However, when High Viceroy Holling came out to the green and glanced at the woods, which looked nothing like a cozy room of a luxurious castle, the people lined up before him in a wink. 

“My men are ready,” Rylin nodded. His huge figure and red chevrons on the shoulders made him stand out. “Will you please tell us now, what the hell we are doing in this wilderness, mad sharp-tooth tear me? My men would start slicing each other in a couple of days if they have nothing else to do!” 

The man burst into laughter, clearly happy with his own joke, and the warriors joined him, scaring off some bright birds. The Viceroy was not that happy judging by his gloomy face.  

“You must find the lamster,” Holling’s eyes glared as if he was talking about some old enemy of his. “He is a rogue and a murderer. It’s said some mad twinkler was teaching this scum in the Gleaming tower!” 

The men exchanged dubious glances. Even the half-wits from the Seven Martyrs quarter knew the legends about the Tower and its inhabitants. Holling smiled slightly, observing the effect his words produced.  The Emperor kept telling him there was no better way to gain authority among soldiers than pompous speeches. And the Viceroy went on after a pause: 

“He’s found shelter in a village half a mile from here and pretends to be a healer, or something of the sort. Lately only weak losers were fighting on the Arena. To become sick wolves’ snack – that’s all they are good for!The Emperor is not happy, Rylin. You know what it means, do you?”

  “Our guts will become roteaters’ snacks, if we don’t bring that bastard alive,” the lieutenant nodded grimly. “But is this ‘healer’ of yours such a hotshot that he was invited to join the spectacle? I’d sooner believe in gold coins pouring from my ears!” 

He grinned followed, and his cutthroats roared with laughter. They probably imagined the picture too vividly. 

“Your business is to carry out orders,” Holling snapped. “Not throwing some stupid jokes around, like a cheap joker in a whore house. If you fail, you’ll be the one thrown on the Arena.” 

Rylin’s sneering face grew serious.

  “Heard that, thugs? We have a day to look around and block all the forest paths. And keep all the fussing down! You can stab a couple of peasants, but the healer must stay safe and sound! Otherwise I’ll feed you to the sharptooths personally!” 

         All the joy vanished in no time. The warriors were checking their equipment, the archers were going through their arrows with a ‘surprise’ from Imperial alchemists.  They looked they were preparing for a fight with a gang, not with some simple village healer. In a couple of moments the silent shadowy figures sneaked into the woods along barely noticeable paths. 

The sun was going down over the woods, weaving crimson traces upon the skies, and from the top of the hill the village looked like it was burning in flames. 

She woke up, when the shadows were still dancing outside. From time to time the twilight talenghas, the inhabitants of the ghostly Veil of Shadows came to the village to fill the night with their strange dances. But they always vanished at dawn. Ah, what a dream she had! She was still seeing the outlines of the majestic Arena, still hearing the voices of men jumping up to reach the real golden coins. Mia had never seen gold in her life, but her dream she realized what it was when she saw the greedy eyes of those shouting men. But what she remembered most were white fluffy birdies. They seemed so close she could even reach and pat them. Her heart skipped a beat. She had a real adventure, a true fairy-tale!

She had heard something like that from Xano, when kids gathered around his magic camp fire. May his stories had come true, and dreams became live? The little girl wasn’t sure, but she was ready to give all her belongings to find out – even her most beautiful dried flowers hidden under her bed. Why were those big men talking about the village? There must be some secret there. But why was she the one having this dream? That was more than interesting!

Talenghas were dancing under her window, as if they had actually heard her thoughts. One of the shadows turned into a white bird and took off into the sky, and the others blinked their twinkly eyes and stared at her window curiously, reaching out to her with their hands-paws. 

Mia was not afraid of them. The creatures were funny and looked like some twilight recollection of a gone dream. Just blow – and they would fade away, turning into fluffy mist.  Is Shoo, her most devoted and friendly mouseflapper, saw them, he’d run after them to play and would wake the whole house up. Let him sleep and see his fluffy playful dreams! He would be upset, though, if he’d find out he’d missed something like that! Should she even tell Shoo about her dream?

At that time the talenghas surrounded the house and, casting silver sparkles into the air, were changing shapes, turning into some fantastic creatures.  Some creatures this were! A ghostly unicorn as elusive as a thought passed by the window and vanished bursting into a fountain of lights. A giant Snow wolf came next, and brightest flames were coming out of his mouth. Oh, my!  Mia wanted to pat the wolf. She wondered if he’d growl at her then. If he did she could give him some dry flowers. He’ll become so happy! Nobody had probably ever given a Snow Wolf some darkened but still smelling so wonderfully dayflowers and red cowwheat. The little girl felt sorry for him. How could he live if no one had given him flowers? Awful, simply awful! Probably this huge wolf would then go deep in the woods and howl there sorrowfully. She must help him right now. 

“Good Night to you, Mister Wolf. Drop in, please. Just please don’t growl. I’ll give you some flowers and braid your funny fur. That’s it. Just, please, don’t wake Mom up. She’s sick now and needs some rest.” 

  And her mysterious guest would smile, grinning, sniff the flowers and would let her touch his beautiful fairy fur. The girl laughed and waved at the creature. The wolf stared at Mia and sat down. He actually saw her! How wonderful! She felt her heart pounding of incredible joy. The little girl raised her right hand and pressed her palm against the window. The wolf kept staring at an odd two-legged creature, who was not afraid of him at all. Then he winked funnily, waved his tail just like the neighbor’s Fang, before raising his paw, imitating Mia’s gesture. 

The whole picture was so funny that the girl burst into laughter. The beast looked at her curiously and then – Lo! – burst into myriads of lights. Wow! One could never know what these shadows would come up with next! 

Друзья, как вам перевод?

Кстати, "мышастика" мы общими усилиями решили перевести как "mouseflapper", других подходящих вариантов не нашли.

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