​Elkin: El Sastre de la Torre (Cuento Corto)

 

​Elkin era un sastre que acababa de mudarse al pueblo de Mirkal. Sin embargo, su nueva casa era demasiado pequeña y no tenía espacio para montar su taller. Decidido a no detener su oficio, buscó un lugar económico para rentar por todo el pueblo, pero los precios eran elevados: 400 o 500 perlas por habitación. Elkin no sabía qué hacer, pues no contaba con semejante cantidad.

​Una mujer del pueblo, al notar su angustia, se le acercó y le ofreció una habitación a un precio increíble, aunque en una ubicación peculiar. Señaló hacia las afueras, donde, en medio de la espesura del bosque, se alzaba una vieja torre gris.

​—En la cima hay un cuarto lo suficientemente grande para tu trabajo. Solo te cobraré 150 perlas —le dijo.

​Elkin, feliz al encontrar algo acorde a su presupuesto, le entregó el dinero de inmediato. Al cerrar el trato, la mujer mostró una sonrisa pícara y misteriosa que el sastre no alcanzó a notar. Sin perder tiempo, Elkin recogió sus telas, hilos, agujas y sus máquinas de coser, metió todo en una gran bolsa de lienzo y emprendió el camino.

​Antes de internarse en la arboleda, un vecino lo detuvo:

—Vecino, tenga cuidado. Nadie entra allí. Se dice que hay un maleficio rondando tras los troncos; una presencia que no tolera invasores y usa la naturaleza para atentar contra el alma.

​—Tranquilo —respondió el sastre con una sonrisa—. Solo voy a trabajar en la torre. La renté a muy buen precio.

​El vecino negó con la cabeza, cerrando los ojos con resignación mientras murmuraba:

—De nuevo esa vieja malvada engañando a los nuevos... espero que este no termine igual.

​Elkin llegó a la torre en pocos minutos. Era una estructura antigua, desgastada pero firme, rodeada por un pequeño claro de pasto verde. Subió las polvorientas escaleras de concreto y quedó maravillado al ver el espacio. Tenía una ventana frontal con vista al pueblo y una posterior que daba al bosque. Limpió el lugar, instaló sus máquinas frente a la ventana del bosque y comenzó su labor.

​Al atardecer, un ser fantasmal y oscuro que se había apropiado de aquel territorio detectó su presencia. Aquel "maleficio" se sintió profundamente ofendido por la invasión y decidió acabar con el hombre. Usando su habilidad para controlar la naturaleza, desató un feroz huracán que avanzó a gran velocidad hacia la torre. Sin embargo, a mitad de camino, el remolino perdió fuerza inexplicablemente.

​Justo antes de que el viento golpeara la estructura, Elkin se levantó, recogió sus cosas, cerró las ventanas y bajó con calma de regreso al pueblo. El sastre ni siquiera notó el fenómeno; el viento simplemente atravesó la piedra y se desvaneció. El ser oscuro rugió de ira, confundido por la falta de potencia de su ataque.

​Al día siguiente, el espectro intentó lanzar varios tornados simultáneos, pero estos se desviaban misteriosamente antes de tocar la torre, llegando apenas a levantar algunos tejados en las orillas de Mirkal. Elkin, ajeno a todo, terminó su jornada y regresó a casa para cenar con su familia.

​Pasaron los días y el negocio de Elkin prosperó; ya vendía camisas y pantalones con éxito en el mercado. El ente fantasmal, desesperado, invocó una tormenta eléctrica para que un rayo fulminara al sastre a través de la ventana. Pero cada relámpago rebotaba contra un escudo invisible, cayendo de vuelta al bosque y casi electrocutando al propio espectro, quien los esquivaba con el rostro arrugado por el pánico. Intentó incluso provocar un terremoto para derribar la torre y esta se trayera consigo al hombre invasor, pero el epicentro se desplazó solo hacia el pueblo. La gente se aturdió pero el fenómeno perdio tanta fuerza que apenas fue un leve temblor que no causó daños.

​Finalmente, el ser oscuro decidió atacar con sus propias manos. Intento cruzar el campo que rodeaba la torre, pero cuando iba por la mitad este se convirtió en un area magnética. Avanzaba con dificultad en cámara lenta y rechinando los dientes. Al llegar a la puerta, intentó derribarla de una patada, pero el impacto se le devolvió con tal violencia que salió disparado por los aires hasta el fondo del bosque.

​En un último intento de frustración, el espectro usó un hilo de magia para romper la aguja de Elkin, enredar sus hilos y tirar sus telas al suelo. El sastre simplemente reemplazó la aguja, desenredó los hilos, recogió sus telas con paciencia y siguió trabajando.

​Derrotado y resignado, el cuerpo negro decidió abandonar la zona y adentrarse en el bosque para no nunca mas volver. El negocio de Elkin siguió dando frutos y, cada vez que le llevaba el dinero del arriendo a la mujer, ella lo miraba con los ojos entrecerrados y las mejillas caídas, sin poder creer que siguiera vivo.

​Y es que, cuando eres una persona de corazón limpio que no hace daño a nadie, el destino se convierte en tu protector, permitiéndote vivir en paz y felicidad con tu familia por siempre.

​Elkin: The Tailor of the Tower (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga

 

​Elkin was a tailor who had just moved to his new home in the village of Mirkal. However, the house was very small and had no room to set up his garment workshop. So, he decided to look for an affordable place to rent. He searched all over the village, but the prices for rooms were very high—500, 400 pearls. He didn’t know what to do, as he didn’t have enough to pay such amounts.

​However, a woman noticed what was happening to him, so she approached him and offered an affordable room she had available, but it was located in a peculiar spot. She pointed toward the outskirts of the village, to the forest, and in the middle of it, a tall gray tower could be seen, not very far away.

​"At the top, there is a room large enough for you to do your work. I will only charge you 150 pearls."

​Elkin was very happy to find a place that fit his budget and immediately handed over the money and shook the lady’s hand. However, for some reason, she smirked with a mischievous smile.

​The man quickly went home, gathered his fabrics, threads, and needles that were piled in a corner, along with his sewing machines. He put them in a large canvas bag and set off toward the tower.

​Before entering the woods, a neighbor who saw him heading that way called out to him and said:

​"Neighbor, excuse me, be careful about stepping into that forest. No one goes in there anymore. They say there’s a curse wandering behind the trunks that doesn’t like trespassers, and it can use nature to strike at your soul."

​"Don't worry, I’m just going to work in the tower over there. A lady rented it to me at a very good price," the tailor replied and continued on his way, his mind focused and a smile on his face.

​"There goes that wicked old woman again, tricking the new residents with the tower. I hope this one doesn’t end up like the others," the neighbor said, shaking his head, eyes closed and lips pursed.

​Elkin moved through the trees with ease, and in less than five minutes, he was standing in front of the tower. It looked very old, worn out but steady. It was also surrounded by a small field of green grass.

​Without hesitation, he entered through the wooden door that was broken at the sides and climbed the dusty concrete stairs. Upon reaching the room, he was marveled by how spacious it was. It had a front window overlooking the village and a back window overlooking the forest. He dusted and swept the place, immediately set up his sewing machines in front of the back window, and got to work.

​At sunset, when it was almost night, deep in the forest, there was a being that had already sensed the tailor's presence in the tower. The individual was a dark, ghostly being that prowled that territory and had claimed it as his own. He was offended to see his land invaded by that man; he was the curse the neighbor had referred to, and he was prepared to finish him for crossing his border.

​The dark body had the ability to control nature for malevolent purposes, so to begin, he caused a fierce hurricane to form in the middle of the forest and head at great speed toward the tower. As soon as the whirlwind formed, it began to advance, but when it was halfway there, it began to slow down. The black being found this strange but kept pushing forward.

​When it was just a few meters from reaching the tower, Elkin stood up from his chair, gathered his things, closed the windows, and headed down the stairs back to the village.

​Elkin the tailor didn’t even notice the presence of the hurricane. When it reached its destination, it simply passed through the tower and vanished on the other side. The ghostly being was filled with rage because he didn't understand why his air attack had lost speed.

​The next day, Elkin returned to the tower to continue his work, and the dark individual, out of wrath, created several hurricanes in the air and directed them toward him. But for some reason, they veered off long before reaching the tower; fortunately, they didn't head toward the village either, though they did manage to tear off some roofs from houses on the outskirts. The day concluded in the same way: Elkin went home to sleep with his family.

​Days passed and the laborer kept working, and he was already selling the shirts and pants he made on weekends in the town center.

​This time, the ghostly body caused a violent electrical storm to form around the tower so that a lightning bolt would enter through the window and electrocute him. But for some reason, every time a thunderbolt tried to enter and strike, it crashed against an invisible shield, bounced off, and fell into the forest. In fact, some stray lightning bolts were about to hit the dark being and electrocute him; he dodged them with his face stretched and wrinkled several times.

​He tried to cause an earthquake in the area where the tower stood so it would collapse and take the tailor with it. But again, for no logical reason to the black body, the execution point of the quake he had marked changed position and headed toward Mirkal. The people of the village were dismayed to feel the sudden movement of the earth, but luckily, it caused no structural damage; likewise, the force of the earthquake had diminished.

​The wicked ghost, now stressed, with wrinkled skin and hair standing on end, decided to go finish the man Elkin once and for all with his own hands, pushing him from the top of the tower. He reached the field surrounding the tower and headed for the entrance, but when he was halfway there, he felt a magnetic force that made it difficult to move forward. However, with all his strength, he kept advancing in slow motion, grinding his teeth.

​When he finally stood in front of the wooden door, he proceeded to kick the door down, but the impact was reflected back, producing a great blow and sending him flying into the forest, outside the field.

​Immediately, the dark being stood up and made one last attempt. He pointed his hand at the window and broke the needle the tailor was sewing with. Seeing that this worked, he tangled all the threads in his basket and then sent a great current of air inside the room, knocking all his fabrics to the floor, some falling on top of him.

​However, Elkin replaced the needle, untangled the threads, picked up the fabrics, and continued with his work.

​The black body resigned himself, seeing that he could not destroy him. So, he decided to retreat into the depths of the forest and leave the area forever.

​Elkin the tailor's business continued to bear fruit; he sold more and more clothes in the town center, and the woman who rented him the tower always watched him with squinted eyes and fallen cheeks whenever he brought her the rent money.

​When you are a person with a clean heart who has never harmed anyone, destiny protects you, and you can live happily with your family forever.

El Ogro de los Techos y los Mellizos de Striva (Cuento Corto)

 

​El pequeño pueblo mágico de Striva estaba en plenas elecciones. Los candidatos en contienda eran el Ángel de Cristal, que buscaba un trato humano para el pueblo, y el Ser de Piedra de Lava, que quería que la población trabajara con mano dura. Toda la gente mágica estaba terminando de votar en el centro de la ciudad; pero en un momento la votación se congeló: iban 10.001 a 10.002, ganando el Ser de Piedra.

​Los simpatizantes del Ángel de Cristal miraban para todos lados con caras arrugadas y gotas de sudor en la frente, buscando quién faltaba por votar.

Stephany y Stiward eran dos hermanos mellizos que también apoyaban al Ángel. Stiward, en ese momento, veía las noticias a través de su pantalla de luz flotante. Al ver los resultados, abrió la boca y corrió a buscar a su hermana a su cuarto. Cuando volvió con ella a la sala, esta abrió los ojos de par en par al ver el holograma. Inmediatamente decidió contactar a su prima por la misma pantalla para que les enviara un pequeño carruaje que los pudiera llevar al centro.

​De lo que no se dieron cuenta fue de que había un Ogro de los Techos mirándolos por la ventana. Este, trabajaba para el Ser de Lava, e iba a hacer que, a toda costa, ellos no llegaran a votar a tiempo para que su líder ganara la gobernación del pueblo.

​—Hola, Sofía. ¿Cómo estás? ¿Nos puedes contratar un carruaje para que nos lleve al centro de Striva a votar?

—Sí, claro, ya se los envío.

​Justo al desconectarse, a Sofía le entró otra llamada: era el Ogro de los Techos. Este le ofreció vestidos y joyas para que retrasara el envío del carruaje. Sofía enseguida se imaginó con las esmeraldas brillando en su pecho y sus brazos, mientras se media los hermosos vestidos en el espejo, así que aceptó por avaricia. Se comunicó con el cochero y canceló el viaje.

​Pasaron cinco minutos y no veían llegar ningún carruaje. Eran casi las 3:30 p.m.; las votaciones cerraban a las 4:00 p.m. y ellos estaban en la frontera de la ciudad. Volvieron a llamar a su prima:

—Sofía, no ha llegado ningún carruaje, no vamos a poder votar a tiempo.

—Disculpen, es que el cochero tuvo que recoger a otra persona, pero ya va en camino.

​Apagaron la luz flotante y siguieron esperando. Sin embargo, pasaron tres minutos más y nada. Así que decidieron no perder más tiempo y salieron a la calle. Al llegar a la esquina, comenzaron a esperar un transporte. Normalmente no demoraban mucho, pero esta vez, por una extraña razón, todos pasaban llenos. Era raro, pues su zona no era tan poblada como el centro.

​De repente, se detuvo un carruaje conducido por un señor que desconocían, pero Stephany tenía el presentimiento de haberlo visto en el grupo del Ángel de Cristal. Él los miró con una gran sonrisa:

—Apuesto a que se dirigen al centro. Súbanse, yo los llevo.

​Los chicos subieron y el viaje comenzó. De pronto, el carruaje lo detuvo un embotellamiento. Era algo inaudito en Striva, pues no había sobrepoblación de vehículos, pero precisamente ese día estaba sucediendo. Solo escuchaban el sonido de los cascos de los caballos golpeando el suelo con desespero mientras relinchaban, lo que los llenó de ansiedad.

​Lo que no sabían era que el ogro los monitoreaba desde un techo con su propio holograma; él era el causante de los retrasos mediante un hechizo. Pero, en un parpadeo, una luz sobre la calle empezó a brillar. El tráfico comenzó a avanzar rápidamente y en poco tiempo el flujo vehicular se normalizó. De repente, el ogro, se estresó, al buscar por todos lados y ver que el punto de ubicación de los mellizos había desaparecido de su pantalla.

​Llegaron al centro con menos de un minuto de margen. Stiward le entregó unas monedas brillantes del tono mágico de Striva al señor y corrieron a las urnas. La gente los miraba en silencio, con sus caras estiradas ya que no estaban seguros que estaba pasando. Marcaron los tarjetones sobre la cara del ángel y los depositaron segundos antes del cierre.

​En ese instante, el punto volvió al holograma del ogro, marcando la ubicación de las urnas y este se puso rojo y apretó los dientes. El conteo se actualizó: 10.003 para el Ángel de Cristal y 10.002 para el Ser de Piedra. ¡Ganó el Ángel!

​Una enorme euforia estalló entre los votantes. Los mellizos se fundieron en abrazos con la multitud. El Ser de Piedra se desvaneció en el aire, mientras los Ogros de los Techos se estiraron en luz y se elevaron.

​Al terminar la celebración, el misterioso cochero volvió a aparecer frente a ellos: —¿Los llevo? Y ellos lo miraron con una gran sonrisa. Sofía, la prima, fue capturada por el nuevo gobierno por haber sido cómplice del mal. Stephany y Stiward hicieron una gran cena en su patio con sus amigos y vivieron con humanidad por mucho tiempo.

The Rooftop Ogre and the Twins of Striva (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga

 

The small magical town of Striva was in the midst of an election. The candidates in the race were the Crystal Angel, who sought humane treatment for the people, and the Lava Stone Being, who wanted the population to work with an iron fist. All the magical folk were finishing their voting in the city center; but at one point, the count froze: it was 10,001 to 10,002, with the Stone Being in the lead.

​The Crystal Angel’s supporters looked everywhere with worried faces and beads of sweat on their foreheads, searching for whoever was still left to vote. Stephany and Stiward were twins who also supported the Angel. At that moment, Stiward was watching the news on his floating light screen. Seeing the results, his jaw dropped, and he rushed to find his sister in her room. When he returned with her to the living room, her eyes widened at the sight of the hologram. She immediately decided to contact her cousin through the same screen to request a small carriage to take them to the center.

​What they didn't realize was that a Rooftop Ogre was watching them through the window. He worked for the Lava Being and was determined to ensure, at all costs, that they wouldn't arrive in time to vote, so his leader could win the town’s governorship.

​"Hi, Sofia. How are you? Can you hire a carriage to take us to Striva’s center to vote?"

"Yes, of course, I'll send one right away."

​Just after hanging up, Sofia received another call: it was the Rooftop Ogre. He offered her dresses and jewelry to delay the carriage. Sofia immediately imagined herself with emeralds shining on her chest and arms while trying on beautiful dresses in the mirror, so she accepted out of greed. She contacted the driver and canceled the trip.

​Five minutes passed, and they saw no carriage arriving. It was nearly 3:30 p.m.; the polls closed at 4:00 p.m., and they were at the edge of the city. They called their cousin again:

"Sofia, no carriage has arrived; we won't be able to vote in time."

"I'm sorry, the driver had to pick someone else up, but he's on his way to your house."

​They turned off the light screen and kept waiting. However, three more minutes passed, and still nothing. They decided not to waste any more time and headed out to the street. Reaching the corner, they began waiting for transport. Usually, they didn't wait long, but this time, for some strange reason, every carriage passed by full. It was odd, as their area was not as populated as the center.

​Suddenly, a carriage pulled up, driven by a man they didn't know, but Stephany had a hunch she had seen him among the Crystal Angel’s group. He looked at them with a wide smile:

"I bet you're heading to the center. Hop in, I'll take you."

​The youths got in, and the journey began. Suddenly, the carriage was stopped by a traffic jam. This was unheard of in Striva, as there was no overpopulation of vehicles, but it was happening precisely on that day of haste. They could only hear the sound of horses' hooves striking the ground in desperation as they neighed, filling them with anxiety.

​What they didn't know was that the ogre was monitoring them from a rooftop with his own hologram; he was the cause of the delays through a spell. But in a blink, a light began to shine over the street. Traffic started moving quickly, and in no time, the flow normalized. Suddenly, the ogre became stressed, searching everywhere only to see that the twins' location marker had vanished from his screen.

​They reached the center with less than a minute to spare. Stiward handed the man some glowing coins in Striva’s magical hue, and they sprinted toward the polls. People watched them in silence, their faces tense as they weren't sure what was happening. They marked their ballots over the Angel's face and dropped them into the boxes seconds before the deadline.

​At that instant, the marker reappeared on the ogre's hologram, showing the location of the polls; he turned red and clenched his teeth. The tally updated: 10,003 for the Crystal Angel and 10,002 for the Lava Stone Being. The Angel won!

​A massive euphoria erupted among the voters. The twins embraced the crowd. The Stone Being vanished into thin air, while the Rooftop Ogres stretched into beams of light and ascended.

​Once the celebration ended, the mysterious driver appeared before them again: "Need a lift?" and they looked at him with a great smile. Sofia, the cousin, was captured by the new government for being an accomplice to evil. Stephany and Stiward held a grand dinner in their backyard with their friends and lived with humanity for a long time.

Arthur: The Terrorist’s Soul-Slayer (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga

 

In the late 90s, James lived in the small town of Bolton, located in a corner of the northern coast where the heat of the Magda River blended with the military dread that drifted down from the Maria Mountains.

​At that time, the town was a war zone; the shadows of terrorist groups moved through the wilderness, imposing a law of silence that could be felt even in the air one breathed.

​James had an uncle named Arthur, a blurred figure in his memory. He had only seen his face in photographs, for when Arthur disappeared at the height of the armed conflict, James was just a child playing in the yard. However, his uncle's name lingered in the house like a foul odor that no one wanted to clean.

​Through fragmented conversations and phrases dropped by his family, James had gathered that his uncle Arthur had not died as an innocent victim. Rumors said that Arthur had become involved with one of those subversive groups, but his end did not come from an enemy bullet. He had been killed by his own illegal militants in the heart of the jungle, for internal reasons that the family seemingly preferred to keep under lock and key—perhaps out of a shame that weighed heavier than grief.

​But Arthur's stain ran deeper. James knew his uncle had been no saint. He had also heard stories about one of his cousins. The mere mention of Arthur's name was enough to transform her face, shifting from hatred to terror and back again in a second. Apparently, an act or an attempted sexual assault had been perpetrated by him against her. Everything James knew, he had simply overheard from his surroundings; the elders always kept their lips sealed.

​One early morning, while the town slept under the watch of the crickets, James woke up feeling as though someone had crossed the entrance to his room. Lying on his side, with his eyes half-open, he heard a voice that did not belong to the present. A man's voice, mature and dry, which pronounced with terrifying clarity both his first and middle names together:

​—“James Andruw,” it whispered.

​James froze. No one at home called him that; to everyone, he was simply James.

​James turned over, but he saw only shadow in the absolute darkness. He felt a cold that didn't come from the river breeze, but rather one that was born deep within his bones. Right then, he remembered what the old women in town used to say: “If you answer the invisible, you bind yourself to its sorrow.” So, he simply squeezed his eyes shut and curled into himself, seeking refuge beneath his sheets. The silence that followed was so heavy that he could almost hear the beating of his own heart thumping against the mattress.

​That call came from the blood, from a past that refused to die and that, from the lower astral plane, sought a witness to return the existence that sin and evil had stripped away.