Внутреннее тестирование Вики/E-IX - История изменений

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 }}
 {{NavChap|[[Chapter VIII - Lies]]|[[The Sacred War#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter X - Heroes]]}}
-{{Portal|The Great Library}}
+{{Portal|The Great Library|Zoraï}}
-{{Portal|Zoraï}}
+[[Category:The Sacred War]]

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 {{Внутреннее тестирование Вики/|
-{{NavChap|[[Chapter VIII - Lies]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter X - Heroes]]}}
+{{NavChap|[[Chapter VIII - Lies]]|[[The Sacred War#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter X - Heroes]]}}
 <noinclude>{{Trad
 |DE=<!--Kapitel IX - Einsamkeit-->
@@ Строка 146: / Строка 146: @@
 :''"If you haven't figured it out, you still need me. All good things come to those who wait, my boy."
-The Black Mask breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to be alone. Everything. Everything but loneliness.}}
+The Black Mask breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to be alone. Everything. Everything but loneliness.
-{{NavChap|[[Chapter VIII - Lies]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter X - Heroes]]}}
+}}
 {{Portal|The Great Library}}
 {{Portal|Zoraï}}

@@ Строка 34: / Строка 34: @@
 Pü screamed like he'd never screamed before. He cried like he had never cried before. He died ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times. If Grandmother Bä-Bä let his despair show, she never broke contact. She held his shoulder tightly and, without his knowing it, magically kept his mind from sinking for good. Minutes passed, and the screams gradually turned into moans. He had given everything. He had lost everything. He was an empty shell. Barely conscious. Barely alive.
-:''"My child, look at me." ''breathed Grandmother Bä-Bä as she gave him a final burst of vitality.
+:''"My child, look at me,"'' breathed Grandmother Bä-Bä as she gave him a final burst of vitality.
 Pü turned his mask towards her mechanically, his gaze off. The witch, already very old, seemed to have gained several years at once.
@@ Строка 104: / Строка 104: @@
 No one. There was definitely no one. Pü gripped the horns of his mask.
-:''"That's it, I'm going insane, I hear voices, he thought.
+:''"That's it, I'm going insane, I hear voices,"'' he thought.
 :''"You're not insane, boy. Everyone hears voices. Every morning, when you wake up, when you are reluctant to leave your bed, a voice brings you motivation. When you set your jewelry, another helps you focus. Everyone hears voices. One's own voice, foreign voices, voices of gods… So what does it matter? What matters are advices the voice provides. And here I ardently advise you to stand up!"
@@ Строка 126: / Строка 126: @@
 When he regained consciousness, his senses still numb from the pain, Pü did not even bother to consult his reflection in the basin. He gathered his belongings and, without taking the time to meditate one last time in front of the memorial totem, sealed the entrances to the stump with explosives, so that no one could ever enter it again. For the first time in many days, and for the last time in his life, Pü was to leave his home. At this terrible thought, his heartbeat quickened.
-:''"Calm down, my boy, I'm here," ''he heard the stern voice that had once awakened him from his desperate torpor.
+:''"Calm down, my boy, I'm here,"'' he heard the stern voice that had once awakened him from his desperate torpor.
-:''"I don't know what to do…. Grandmother Bä-Bä, on the verge of death, even though she seemed to have fallen into a delirium, summoned me to find a Fyros and a Matissa first," ''answered Pü in a trembling voice.
+:''"I don't know what to do…. Grandmother Bä-Bä, on the verge of death, even though she seemed to have fallen into a delirium, summoned me to find a Fyros and a Matissa first,"'' answered Pü in a trembling voice.
 :''"Your ancestor urged you to travel, so travel! Westward, over the Great Mountain, to Trykoth, the magnificent region of the Lakes, whose waters stretch as far as the eye can see! Then further north on the coast, to Karavia, the Holy City, built on the site of the meeting between Jena and Zachini, the first king of the Matis! Then to the east, on the high green plateaus of the Kingdom of Matia, where you have already had the opportunity to get lost! And finally to the northwest, beyond the Munshia, into the arid boreal regions and deep canyons of the Fyros desert… But if I were you, I would start by visiting Zoran in search of survivors."
@@ Строка 136: / Строка 136: @@
 :''"Why are you helping me?"
-:''"Because, my boy, our souls are linked,"'' the voice answered calmly. Pü swallowed.
+:''"Because, my boy, our souls are linked,"'' the voice answered calmly.
 :''"Still won't tell me who you are?"

@@ Строка 16: / Строка 16: @@
 Pü reopened his eyelids, mask against bark, mouth full of soot and blood. Despite the violence of the shock, the flow of life-saving Sap directed against the concussion had achieved its goal. He had regained consciousness. Awareness of his surroundings. Awareness of his left side, totally crushed under a colossal block of wood. What had happened? How many seconds had he been unconscious? Then, the image of Niï's body came back to him. In suspension. Above the ruins of the Ceremonial Square. The leg of one of the insectoid creatures stuck in the abdomen. And then this gigantic piece of bark, obscuring the sky and crushing him head-on. Totally stuck and unable to turn around, Pü tried to call his brother. Unfortunately, only a hoarse whistle came from his crushed throat, at once drowned in a pool of blood. No one heard him, yet he continued, chanting his brother's name like a mantra, hoping to summon him. Hoping that summoning would help him to ignore the immense pain that was bruising him. Partly compressed under several hundred pounds of wood, he was flooding his left side with Sap, even if it meant weakening the right side. The work of regeneration was inordinate, so much each movement that he carried out to extirpate himself from his tomb opened a little more his fractures, tore a little more his wounds, mixed a little more the splinters of his armor with his fluids. He had lost consciousness for only a few seconds. He couldn't have survived any longer, he was sure. There was still time. His brother had already freed himself from the creature's grasp, he was sure.
-Finally, after several excruciating minutes, Pü managed to free himself from his coffin. No sooner was he freed than he fell into the pit, mask first, without even having time to look around. His mutilated, half-naked body crashed into a pile of chitin, and another image came back to him. In his memory, he and his companions had cleaned up Ceremonial Square after the creatures' first assault. So how could it be filled with carcasses again? Yet he had only been unconscious for a few seconds. Stunned and drained, he crawled for a few meters, between pieces of charred carapaces. How long, really, had he been unconscious? His father, brother and uncle, where were they? With his view blocked by the mound of cold carcasses, the young Zorai made his way to the pile that towered above all the others. He had to get some height. His body bruised, still unable to stand, he began to climb it. The climb was long and difficult, but he finally managed to grab the cranial nozzle of the kinrey that topped the mass grave. One of those who had skewered his brother. And as he pulled himself up to the top with a final effort, his gaze shifted to the other end of the pit, and his life toppled. As deep as his wounds were, the sprouting of his mask was still the most physically painful thing he had ever experienced. But nothing had ever prepared him for the sight of his father and uncle's pierced bodies, chest to chest, mask to mask. They were nailed to the wall of the pit by a huge severed leg. From its bluish color, he knew it belonged to the commander of the creatures his elders had faced. First Ke'val, then his father, then the wall. The Shadow had sacrificed himself to save the Black Mask… in vain. The two greatest warriors of the tribe were now dead. Transfixed by what he hoped was only a hallucination, Pü did not react. But the vision persisted. Realizing that everything he was seeing was real, he was unable to take the shock and fell asleep inside himself. What little innocence he had left was shattered along with his reason.
+Finally, after several excruciating minutes, Pü managed to free himself from his coffin. No sooner was he freed than he fell into the pit, mask first, without even having time to look around. His mutilated, half-naked body crashed into a pile of chitin, and another image came back to him. In his memory, he and his companions had cleaned up Ceremonial Square after the creatures' first assault. So how could it be filled with carcasses again? Yet he had only been unconscious for a few seconds. Stunned and drained, he crawled for a few meters, between pieces of charred carapaces. How long, really, had he been unconscious? His father, brother and uncle, where were they? With his view blocked by the mound of cold carcasses, the young Zorai made his way to the pile that towered above all the others. He had to get some height. His body bruised, still unable to stand, he began to climb it. The climb was long and difficult, but he finally managed to grab the cranial nozzle of the kinrey that topped the mass grave. One of those who had skewered his brother. And as he pulled himself up to the top with a final effort, his gaze shifted to the other end of the pit, and his life toppled. As deep as his wounds were, the sprouting of his mask was still the most physically painful thing he had ever experienced. But nothing had ever prepared him for the sight of his father and uncle's pierced bodies, chest to chest, mask to mask. They were nailed to the wall of the pit by a huge severed leg. From its bluish color, he knew it belonged to the commander of the creatures his elders had faced. First Ke'val, then his father, then the wall. The Shadow had sacrificed himself to save the Black Mask… In vain. The two greatest warriors of the tribe were now dead. Transfixed by what he hoped was only a hallucination, Pü did not react. But the vision persisted. Realizing that everything he was seeing was real, he was unable to take the shock and fell asleep inside himself. What little innocence he had left was shattered along with his reason.
 {{Couillard}}
-It was standing in front of Grandmother Bä-Bä's hut, at the top of the village, far from the pit, that Pü regained full consciousness. Standing and staggering. Feverish. Nauseous. With drool on his lips and a glassy look in his eyes, he looked around, totally disoriented. He could not see, he could not hear and he smelled death. Death. All around him. On him. The smell of guts, the acrid smell of monsters, the smell of dead flesh. Inside him. The taste of bile, the taste of blood, the taste of tears. The pain. Around him, on him, in him. In his flesh, in his heart. The pain of some, the pain of others. The smell of nothing, the taste of the end. The memories. In him. The happy ones, the sad ones. The memory of the dead. Those of yesterday and today. His uncle, his father, and all those he had passed on the way back to the hut. That is, all of them. Because all of them were only memories. All of them! The children, the elders. All of them! All of them! All of them! Death, on him. In his hands. His brother's head, in his hands. Cold. Fallen on the side of the road, found between several heads. Those of children and elders. The head of his brother, of this brother he had abandoned, whom he had not saved. The head of his brother. Grimacing, bloody, with a cracked mask. The head of his protective big brother, who had comforted him with an "I love you" before sacrificing himself. His loving big brother, who, before throwing himself into the pit, had ordered him to find their mother. Their mother, whom they loved so much. Their mother, who would wake him up from this nightmare with a snap of her finger.
+It was standing in front of Grandmother Bä-Bä's hut, at the top of the village, far from the pit, that Pü regained full consciousness. Standing and staggering. Feverish. Nauseous. With drool on his lips and a glassy look in his eyes, he looked around, totally disoriented. He could not see, he could not hear and he smelled death. Death. All around him. On him. The smell of guts, the acrid smell of monsters, the smell of dead flesh. Inside him. The taste of bile, the taste of blood, the taste of tears. The pain. Around him, on him, in him. In his flesh, in his heart. The pain of some, the pain of others. The smell of nothing, the taste of the end. The memories. In him. The happy ones, the sad ones. The memory of the dead. Those of yesterday and today. His uncle, his father, and all those he had passed on the way back to the hut. That is, all of them. Because all of them were only memories. All of them! The children, the elders. All of them! All of them! All of them! Death, on him. In his hands. His brother's head, in his hands. Cold. Fallen on the side of the road, found between several heads. Those of children and elders. The head of his brother, of this brother he had abandoned, whom he had not saved. The head of his brother. Grimacing, bloody, with a cracked mask. The head of his protective big brother, who had comforted him with an "I love you" before sacrificing himself. His loving big brother, who, before throwing himself into the pit, had ordered him to find their mother. Their mother, whom they loved so much. Their mother, who would wake him up from this nightmare with a snap of her fingers.
 Covered in blood and vomit, trembling and wavering, Pue staggered toward the hut, clutching Niï's head to his heart. He passed the curtains and his chest heaved. Grandmother Bä-Bä was watching him, kneeling on the ground at the bedside of Looï, who also had her mask turned toward him. The young Zorai ran to the two hominas and collapsed on his mother. He laid his brother's cold head on the bed and cuddled his mask against his mother. His tears flowed freely as he hiccupped:
@@ Строка 52: / Строка 52: @@
 :''"But... why? I… I don't want, Grandmother. I never believed in it. I can't carry this burden…."
-:''"I know that, my child, I know it so well…. By my lie, I wanted to protect you. To protect us. But in the end, the fate Ma-Duk has in store for you seems inevitable…. By naming Niï as the future Black Mask and Sacred Warrior, I thought I could reverse the course of things, in vain…. You are a nice boy Pü. You are so good. So make me lie. Free them from her. Then free yourself from him. In the hope of Happy Days…."
+:''"I know that, my child, I know it so well…. By my lie, I wanted to protect you. To protect us. But in the end, the fate Ma-Duk has in store for you seems inevitable…. By naming Niï as the future Black Mask and Sacred Warrior, I thought I could reverse the course of things, in vain…. You are a nice boy Pü. You are so good. So make me lie. Free them from ''Her''. Then free yourself from ''Him''. In the hope of Happy Days…."
 :''"To... to free myself? The… Happy Days? Everyone is dead, Grandmother… Happy Days don't exist… This world is so cruel… I want to die…."

@@ Строка 136: / Строка 136: @@
 :''"Why are you helping me?"
-:''"Because, my boy, our souls are linked," ''the voice answered calmly. Pü swallowed.
+:''"Because, my boy, our souls are linked,"'' the voice answered calmly. Pü swallowed.
 :''"Still won't tell me who you are?"

@@ Строка 20: / Строка 20: @@
 It was standing in front of Grandmother Bä-Bä's hut, at the top of the village, far from the pit, that Pü regained full consciousness. Standing and staggering. Feverish. Nauseous. With drool on his lips and a glassy look in his eyes, he looked around, totally disoriented. He could not see, he could not hear and he smelled death. Death. All around him. On him. The smell of guts, the acrid smell of monsters, the smell of dead flesh. Inside him. The taste of bile, the taste of blood, the taste of tears. The pain. Around him, on him, in him. In his flesh, in his heart. The pain of some, the pain of others. The smell of nothing, the taste of the end. The memories. In him. The happy ones, the sad ones. The memory of the dead. Those of yesterday and today. His uncle, his father, and all those he had passed on the way back to the hut. That is, all of them. Because all of them were only memories. All of them! The children, the elders. All of them! All of them! All of them! Death, on him. In his hands. His brother's head, in his hands. Cold. Fallen on the side of the road, found between several heads. Those of children and elders. The head of his brother, of this brother he had abandoned, whom he had not saved. The head of his brother. Grimacing, bloody, with a cracked mask. The head of his protective big brother, who had comforted him with an "I love you" before sacrificing himself. His loving big brother, who, before throwing himself into the pit, had ordered him to find their mother. Their mother, whom they loved so much. Their mother, who would wake him up from this nightmare with a snap of her finger.
-Covered in blood and vomit, trembling and wavering, Pue staggered toward the hut, clutching Niï's head to his heart. He passed the curtains and his chest heaved. Grandmother Bä-Bä was watching him, kneeling on the ground at the bedside of Looï, who also had her mask turned toward him. The young Zorai ran to the two women and collapsed on his mother. He laid his brother's cold head on the bed and cuddled his mask against his mother. His tears flowed freely as he hiccupped:
+Covered in blood and vomit, trembling and wavering, Pue staggered toward the hut, clutching Niï's head to his heart. He passed the curtains and his chest heaved. Grandmother Bä-Bä was watching him, kneeling on the ground at the bedside of Looï, who also had her mask turned toward him. The young Zorai ran to the two hominas and collapsed on his mother. He laid his brother's cold head on the bed and cuddled his mask against his mother. His tears flowed freely as he hiccupped:
-:''"Mo… Mom… Father, Ke'val and Niï… they are dead… I couldn't save them… I… I couldn't do anything… Niï went to help them without me… I was his Shadow, I should have followed him too! But… but he didn't want to! He said that the Prophecy was false, that he would never be Black Mask, that the visions of Grandmother were lies! He… He told me I had to go up and protect you, but… but a piece of the stump fell on me… I… I shouldn't have agreed, I… I should have joined them… I… I hate myself, Mom, I hate myself! I want to die! I want to forget everything! I want to disappear… Help me! Help me mom!"
+:''"Mo… Mom… Father, Ke'val and Niï… they are dead… I couldn't save them… I… I couldn't do anything… Niï went to help them without me… I was his Shadow, I should have followed him too! But… But he didn't want to! He said that the Prophecy was false, that he would never be Black Mask, that the visions of Grandmother were lies! He… He told me I had to go up and protect you, but… but a piece of the stump fell on me… I… I shouldn't have agreed, I… I should have joined them… I… I hate myself, Mom, I hate myself! I want to die! I want to forget everything! I want to disappear…. Help me! Help me mom!"
 The young Zorai sobbed for a few seconds, waiting for maternal comfort. Instead, a rough hand was placed on his bare shoulder and a hoarse voice answered him:
@@ Строка 118: / Строка 118: @@
 :''"Who are you, if you are real?"
-:''"Ah, that's an interesting question. Although we met a few years ago, my memory will only come back to you when you don't need me anymore. In the meantime, you know what you have to do: prepare the funeral rite for your loved ones. But first of all, please, go and wash up!"
+:''"Ah, that's an interesting question. Although we met a few years ago, my memory will only come back to you when you don't need me anymore. In the meantime, you know what you have to do: prepare the funeral rite for your loved ones. But first of all, please,  wash up!"
 And again, Pü obeyed. The days that followed were a strange and terrible time. At times, aware of the cruel reality, the young Zorai went through depressive episodes, accompanied by panic attacks. During these moments, the voice was of considerable help. It kept him from sinking. These difficult episodes were interspersed with phases where, as if outside himself, Pü would mechanically get on with the task. He found and embalmed the one hundred and fifty-eight bodies of the one hundred and fifty-eight members of the tribe. He collected the one hundred and fifty-eight seeds of life and froze them in a single cube of amber. He carefully removed the one hundred and thirty-one masks from the faces of the one hundred and thirty-one adults before covering them with a protective layer of amber. He cleaned the village's places of worship, including the Ceremonial Square. He restored and straightened the broken totem pole, on which only the masks of those who had respected the precepts of the Black Cult of Ma-Duk all their lives were fixed, and covered it with new masks. His father's, uncle's, brother's, Grandma Bä-Bä's and mother's masks were on top when he was done, but to him, they were all heroes now. Finally, he put the tiara he had made for his mother before the invasion on her mask and buried the amber cube at the base of the totem pole.
@@ Строка 146: / Строка 146: @@
 The Black Mask breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to be alone. Everything. Everything but loneliness.}}
 {{NavChap|[[Chapter VIII - Lies]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter X - Heroes]]}}
 {{Portal|The Great Library}}
 {{Portal|Zoraï}}
@@ Строка 153: / Строка 151: @@
-<small>'''Notes de l’auteur'''<br>
+<small>'''Notes from the author'''<br>
 ''Hello dear readers. I am Belenor Nebius, Fyros of sap, author of ''The Sacred War'', scribe of the Disciples of the Black Cult of Ma-Duk and unfailing friend of Pü Fu-Tao. With this ninth chapter, the first part of our story ends. Opened when Pü was only a few months old, it ends with the cataclysmic event that ravaged the Old Lands in year 2481 of Jena., later known as the Great Swarming. I had to wait many years before Pü dared to tell me about his childhood. As you can imagine, this period revived painful memories in him. Indeed, while I have been able, during our discussions, to guess some happy, tender past moments, the violent events were the ones he was speking of with the most accuracy, hence the dark atmosphere of these early chapters.<br>The following part will tell the story of the journey of the Black Mask, which is just as dark, his encounters with those who will become his allies or his enemies, and ultimately, with me. I will never forget this moment, which transformed me irreversibly. At this point in your reading, Pü is looking for a Fyros and a Matissa. The more erudite among you will have noticed the names Damakian, Rory, and even Kalbatcha. If these names probably do not evoke anything to most of you, their mention may have puzzled some of you. Let them know that I understand their feelings completely. They were mine when, already old and finally arrived on the New Lands, I met by chance some of these homins, who in many points, reminded me of the group that Pü, me and so many others had formed once. Homins that we had never met, and whose names had been revealed to us, long before they were born. Was it a coincidence, a cruel joke, or the very embodiment of fate? Even today, as I write these few words, I cannot say. But as you will see later, this strangeness is only one of the many that punctuated our journey, and which in so many different ways link our past to your present. Ma-Duk watches over each fragment of matter of Atys, and beyond space and time, weaves between them the web of his Great Work.''</small>
 }}

@@ Строка 82: / Строка 82: @@
 :''"This name… Whose is it? And these memories… are they real?"
-Pü stared at her in turn, full of incomprehension. And without his understanding why, a stunned look appeared behind the mask of the venerable Zorai. She sank to the ground, almost smiling. Pü went with her and leaned toward her.
+Pü stared at her in turn, full of incomprehension. And without his knowing why, a stunned look appeared behind the mask of the venerable Zorai. She sank to the ground, almost smiling. Pü went with her and leaned toward her.
 :''"Oh… I see… I see, my child…. Everything repeats itself, for nothing is certain…. He is groping…. He is doubting, himself too…. Courage, Pü…. Courage…. You will find a way, I trust you…."
@@ Строка 104: / Строка 104: @@
 No one. There was definitely no one. Pü gripped the horns of his mask.
-:''"That's it, I'm going insane, I hear voices," ''he thought.
+:''"That's it, I'm going insane, I hear voices, he thought.
 :''"You're not insane, boy. Everyone hears voices. Every morning, when you wake up, when you are reluctant to leave your bed, a voice brings you motivation. When you set your jewelry, another helps you focus. Everyone hears voices. One's own voice, foreign voices, voices of gods… So what does it matter? What matters are advices the voice provides. And here I ardently advise you to stand up!"

@@ Строка 72: / Строка 72: @@
 The flames in the grandmother's eyes flared up again, and she abruptly straightened her head. Her expression had changed dramatically. She seemed to be animated with a new vitality.
-:''"Listen to me! You must find them. You must find the Fyros and the Matissa. Listen to me Kal! Find Damakian and Rory! Find them! Without them, you will not be able to fight the Sacred War!"
+:''"Listen to me! You must find them. You must find the Fyros then the Matissa. Listen to me Kal! Find Damakian and Rory! Find them! Without them, you will not be able to fight the Sacred War!"
 A chill ran down Pü's spine. That voice. That voice, that voice that had spoken those words. It was not Grandmother Bä-Bä's. The witch began to convulse and chant incomprehensible words. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets. Pü held her wrist tightly and put his other hand behind her head to support her.