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The sledgehammers shook the tower of lifestone. Each hit brought with it a wave of pain. The surrounding towers blazed with an angry light, furious at what was being done to their companion. But other than lighting up the darkness, there was nothing they could do.

Almost an hour passed. Eventually the tower could no longer take it. It allowed small cracks to open, near the top. From those cracks, the molten lava inside began to seep out, roll down towards the ground.

The tower wept.

Below, there were four human-like figures. Three of them had been working the sledgehammers, the fourth one had been watching. The three wore simple brown clothes; the fourth one wore nothing. He had earned a leader's body, along with the right to display it for all to see.

When the leader saw the tears, he made a small gesture with his finger. Even though the others had their backs to him, they instantly dropped their hammers. They rushed to grab a basin, fashioned of black jewel. They brought it to where the tears were falling, gathering them together. When the basin was in place, they picked up their hammers and resumed their work.

Gradually, the tears of lava began to fill the basin. They flowed more freely now: each time the hammers struck, tears of anguish poured out. The figures showed no compassion.

Some of the surface lava in the other towers grew incandescent with rage, bright enough to shine through the towers' lifestone shell. All around the four figures, angry shadows many times their size flickered and danced.

Finally the basin grew full. The leader watched the other three each take hold of it. Then he turned towards the south, extending his large bat-like wings. He too grabbed the basin, and the four of them rose to the air. They flew with strong, leisurely wing beats, carrying the basin between them.

As they left, the tower wept even more. It mourned for the part of itself that it had lost to the creatures, a part which it would never again see. The sledgehammers, the tools of the cruel trade, were left behind. They lay on the ground, lava pooling up around them.

After an extended flight, the figures arrived at the black monolith. It stood at the center of the city, many times taller than even the highest towers. The air around it was buzzing with winged creatures, all carrying out tasks of their own.

The entrances to the monolith were irregularly shaped holes. They looked like an attacker had forcibly broken the monolith's surface, not like something purposefully constructed. The four figures flew to one of them, letting the basin down on the floor.

Sixty liters of lava did not cool quickly, particularly not in a basin crafted to keep it warm. Yet the flight had been long enough for the lava to grow solid again. The figures lifted from the basin what was now a single object. They began carrying it inside, suddenly nervous in their movements.

And as I continued to cool, the earliest beginnings of thought began to stir inside me.




A translation/rewrite of an earlier Finnish piece of mine. Feedback is most welcome...

Date: 2011-07-06 05:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alicorn24.livejournal.com
What happens next?

Date: 2011-07-07 05:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] xuenay.livejournal.com
See here.

I have a couple of pages more of the Finnish original written after that. Nothing much happens in them. Expect an English version of them pretty soon. After that? Aside for some rather general ideas, I'm not sure. I hope I'll come up with something, or otherwise this will be a very short novel.

I'm not very happy with the quality of my prose at the moment, but then this is just the first draft. I'll make it better on the second pass.

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