by Sebastian Iturralde
Dear readers!
It is with extreme pleasure that I present to you the first entry in the Greylock Glass fiction section: a serialized short story by Sebastian Iturralde, a bilingual storyteller whose imagination is matched only by his desperate need to pour words from his mind onto the page. We’ll be presenting one installment of Reino De La Gloria / Kingdom of Glory each week until the series concludes.
Opening this literary section during the Summer seemed apt. It’s a great season for light reading. Of course, this might also be a good time to brush up on your Spanish/English, too, which is why I’ve chosen to lay the two versions out side by side. We’re going to do another groundbreaking thing with this new endeavor — we’re going to highlight, right up front, the financial support options NOT for The Greylock Glass, but instead, for the creator of this great tale. If you enjoy what you read here, PLEASE buy Sebastian a coffee and
make a contribution here.
Viaje Bendito
Blessed Journey
El caballero alcanzó a protegerse del ataque que lo sorprendió al entrar en la habitación. El choque de su espada contra las garras de la criatura casi lo obligan a perder su empuñadura, pero Aslan no estaba dispuesto a perder. Había una fuerza en su interior que lo ayudaba a continuar, pese al cansancio, más allá del dolor que podía sentir. Después de todo, su misión no era personal.
Así que se levantó, empuñando a su espada—Resplandor—listo para continuar con la batalla. A pocos pasos se encontraba uno de los Cerka, los oponentes más aterradores con los que se había enfrentado. El cuerpo de la criatura había perdido las tradicionales características humanas, se parecía más a un oso sobrealimentado. El híbrido entre un humano y un lobo volvió a atacar.
Esta vez le fue imposible esquivar las garras de la criatura, Aslan sintió a su armadura romperse como mantequilla con un cuchillo caliente. ¿De qué están hechas sus garras?
Aslan no podría continuar peleando por mucho tiempo—con su respiración agitada—la energía desperdiciada para llegar a este lugar. Un gran comedor lo separaba de la criatura, platos y cubiertos esparcidos por el piso. Un gran banquete interrumpido. Las altas paredes del cuarto tenían ventanas a dos costados, luz de colores atravesaba los mosaicos de cristal.
De repente, la puerta que permanecía cerrada al otro costado de la habitación fue abierta. Aslan giró para observar, y para su sorpresa vio a otro Cerka—con garras de metal—entrar en la habitación. ¿Otro más?
No había salida. Aslan estaba solo y no tenía idea de lo que podría encontrar al continuar al siguiente cuarto. “Luz protégeme,” dijo y su aura brillante se iluminó. Aslan tomó su gran espada, Resplandor, con dos manos—cerrando los ojos para recibir la bendición. Al abrirlos, sus ojos brillaban casi tanto como la hoja de su arma.
Las criaturas se detuvieron para cubrir sus ojos—la luz hizo que se iluminara todo el cuarto. Pero, cuando su intensidad disminuyó, las criaturas volvieron al ataque.
Aslan se colocó en posición de defensa, mirando a las criaturas acercarse por distintos lugares—calculando cuál será la primera en llegar. Te tengo. Su espada dejó una línea de luz tras el ataque, con un movimiento preciso la estrelló contra su contrincante. La criatura intentó contraer su piel para evitar el corte, pero fue imposible.
El otro Cerka se detuvo al ver a su compañero caer en dos lugares diferentes—retorciéndose antes de quedar inmóvil. Y giró para huir.
No lo harás, pensó Aslan, tomando el libro que cuelga de una cadena a su costado. Luego apuntó a la criatura con su espada y un rayo de luz se estrelló con ella—enviándola con fuerza a través de uno de los inmensos ventanales.
Aslan se detuvo para ver la gran caída desde el filo de la ventana destrozada. Luego giró hacia la puerta por la que salió la segunda criatura y continuó su búsqueda.
“Aslan,” dijo Sharai—la hechicera de vestido azul largo. “Tenemos que salvar a la princesa.”
Aslan asintió con la cabeza, colocando su gran espada sobre el hombro. “¿Dónde están los demás?”
“No los he visto.”
Están bien, los puedo sentir. “Sígueme,” dijo Aslan. “Tenemos trabajo que hacer.”
Los dos corrieron hacia la puerta del siguiente cuarto.
The knight managed to protect himself from the attack that surprised him as he entered the room. The clash of his sword against the creature’s claws nearly forced him to lose his grip, but Aslan was unwilling to lose. There was a strength inside him that kept him going, despite the fatigue, beyond the pain he felt. After all, his mission was not personal.
So he stood up, wielding his sword—Spark—ready to continue the battle. A few steps away was one of the Cerka, the most terrifying opponents he had ever encountered. The creature’s body had lost its traditional human characteristics, it looked more like an oversized bear. The hybrid between a human and a wolf struck again.
This time, unable to dodge the creature’s claws, Aslan felt his armor tear like butter carved with a hot knife. What are its claws made of?
Aslan couldn’t continue to fight for long—with his heavy breathing—the wasted energy to get to this place. A large dining room separated him from the creature, plates and cutlery scattered across the floor. A great banquet interrupted. The high walls of the room had windows on both sides, colored light shining through the glass mosaics.
Suddenly, the door that remained closed on the other side of the room was kicked open. Aslan turned to look, and to his surprise saw another Cerka—with metal claws—enter the room. Another one?
There was no way out. Aslan was alone and had no idea what he might find by continuing to the next room. “Light, protect me,” he said and his bright aura lit up. Aslan took his great sword, Sparkle,both hands—closing his eyes to receive the blessing. Opening them, his eyes shone almost as bright as the blade of his weapon.
The creatures stopped to cover their eyes—the light made the entire room bright. But, when the intensity diminished, the creatures continued the attack.
Aslan took up a defensive posture, watching the creatures approach from different sides—calculating which will be the first to arrive. I got you. His sword left a line of light after the attack, with a precise movement he smashed it against his opponent. The creature tried to contract its skin to avoid getting cut, but it was impossible.
The other Cerka stopped when he saw his partner fall into two different places—twisting before going still. And turned to flee.
No you won’t, Aslan thought, picking up the book dangling from a chain at his side. Then he pointed his sword at the creature and a shaft of light slammed into it—sending it forcefully through one of the huge windows.
Aslan stopped to watch the great fall from the edge of the shattered window. Then he turned to the door the second creature exited through and continued his search.
“Aslan,” said Sharai—the sorceress in the long blue dress. “We have to save the princess.”
Aslan nodded, placing his greatsword on his shoulder. “Where are the others?”
“I have not seen them.”
They are fine, I can feel them. “Follow me,” Aslan said. “We have work to do.”
The two of them ran to the door of the next room.