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 }}
 {{NavChap|[[Chapter XIV - Savagery]]|[[The Sacred War#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapitre XVI - Civilizations]]}}
-{{Portal|The Great Library}}
+{{Portal|The Great Library|Fyros}}
-{{Portal|Zoraï}}
+[[Category:The Sacred War]]
 }}

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 {{Внутреннее тестирование Вики|
-{{NavChap|[[Chapter XIV - Savagery]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapitre XVI - Civilizations]]}}
+{{NavChap|[[Chapter XIV - Savagery]]|[[The Sacred War#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapitre XVI - Civilizations]]}}
 <noinclude>{{Trad
 |DE=<!--Kapitel XV - Mächte-->
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 "I hate the Karavan as much as I hate the Kamis… They think they are our masters… And that will last as long as we continue to name them 'Powers'! For as long as homins chain themselves to them, so long will they remain slaves in their eyes! As for me, I have already made my choice, that day: rather to die free than to live enslaved!"
-Deep down inside, despite the deference he showed to the Kamis, Belenor understood Melkiar's position. But what could the homins do, alone, in the face of so much horror? How could they free themselves from the bondage of the Powers, without losing all that they had acquired so far? Whatever the answers to these questions, at that moment, the Fyros had already made his own choice: that of life.}}
+Deep down inside, despite the deference he showed to the Kamis, Belenor understood Melkiar's position. But what could the homins do, alone, in the face of so much horror? How could they free themselves from the bondage of the Powers, without losing all that they had acquired so far? Whatever the answers to these questions, at that moment, the Fyros had already made his own choice: that of life.
-{{NavChap|[[Chapter XIV - Savagery]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapitre XVI - Civilizations]]}}
+}}
 {{Portal|The Great Library}}
 {{Portal|Zoraï}}
 [[Category:Chronicles of the First Crusade‎]]
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 <noinclude>{{Trad
 |DE=<!--Kapitel XV - Mächte-->
-|EN=Chapter XV - Powers|ENs=2
+|EN=Chapter XV - Powers|ENs=4
 |ES=<!--Capítulo XV - Poderes-->
 |FR=Chapitre XV - Puissances|FRs=0
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 The shock wave produced by the scream instantly dissipated the gigantic cloud of dust and propelled Belenor several meters backwards. Crashing heavily into the sawdust, the Fyros howled in turn. Brandille's scream was piercing his skull, from which waves of pain spread throughout his body. Was this what the Zorai felt when the growth of their mask was not supported by the magic of the Kamis, as he had imagined in the story he had once written? Whatever the answer to that question, the Fyros had never suffered such torment. To endure this pain was inconceivable. There was not a chance he would escape. Thus, he who had imagined himself being devoured by one of these creatures, was finally going to be killed by his friend, right here. With his mouth distended, his eyes revolted and his arms spread wide, Brandille did not stop howling. Her body was vibrating unreal, faster and faster, until it was eating away at the bark around her. But Belenor was not the only one to suffer the wrath of his cry. For for several dozen meters around, the kinchers were falling like flies, crushed by Brandille's implacable cry. Reaching the limits of his endurance in handling the Sap, Belenor felt his heart slow down. He was no longer in position to regenerate his self-destructed cells. And as a black veil began to blur his vision, the screaming stopped.
-Puis, le sol trembla. Une énième fois. Regardant vers le bas de l’avenue, Bélénor se laissa tomber à genoux. Les Portes Sud étaient en train de vomir un monstrueux essaim. Un raz-de-marée gigantesque, d’ailes, de dards et de crocs. Cette fois-ci, point de Brandille pour leur sauver la mise, seul un miracle pourrait les préserver du cataclysme à venir. Levant la tête et fermant les yeux, Bélénor dédia alors une pensée à chacun de ses proches. À Varran et à Melkiar, qu’il aurait tant voulu revoir une dernière fois. À Tisse et à Garius, qu’il rejoindrait bientôt. À Xynala et à Brandille, à ses côtés, jusqu’au bout. À Penala, évidemment, qu’il espérait être à l'abri. Même à son père et à sa mère, qu’il aimait, malgré tout. Finalement, il consacra sa dernière pensée à Messen Dyn, le vieux moine kamiste qu’il avait assidûment côtoyé ces dernières années. Ainsi, les yeux fermés et le visage rivé vers l’Astre du Jour, il se mit à prier les Kamis, et tout particulièrement le Kami Noir. Puis, il pensa au Kami Suprême, quel qu’il ait été. Après tout, qui d’autre que lui pouvait réaliser des miracles ? Plusieurs secondes passèrent ainsi, à attendre la mort en priant. Et alors, contre toute attente, Jena répondit au Fyros. Dans un grincement céleste. Au-dessus de Fyre, désormais baignée dans la pénombre, un gigantesque engin volant de la Karavan venait de faire son apparition. Bouleversé, Bélénor leva les bras vers le ciel et fondit en larmes. Jamais il n’avait oublié ce que Melkiar lui avait dit, ce jour-là, attablé dans la taverne.
+Half unconscious, the Fyros did not know how much time it took him to get up. Feverish, nauseous, drooling and glassy-eyed, he ran a trembling hand over his face. Noticing the red color of it, he understood that blood had flowed in large quantities from his nose, his eyes and his ears. This certainly explained the horrible headache that was pounding his skull. Totally disoriented, he looked around him, taking advantage of the lifting of the fog to find his bearings. The monstrous wave of giant insects had broken from the bottom of Dyros Avenue, crushing everything in its path. Now transformed into a dead sea, it was just agitated by some nervous spasms. A sea in which Xynala had drowned. If he had survived the scream, there was no doubt that she had too. She must have… Staggering in the supposed direction of the Fyrossa, he glanced at the crater dug by Brandille, in which her body had disappeared. If he feared for Xynala's life, he knew Brandille was still alive, though very weak. He could feel it, without understanding how or why.
-« ''Je déteste la Karavan, autant que les Kamis… Ils se prennent pour nos maîtres... Et cela durera, tant que nous continuerons à les nommer « Puissances » ! Car aussi longtemps que les homins s’enchaîneront à eux, aussi longtemps ils resteront des esclaves à leurs yeux ! Moi, j’ai déjà fait mon choix, ce jour-là : plutôt mourir libre que de vivre asservi !'' »
+Then the ground shook. For the umpteenth time. Looking down the avenue, Belenor let himself fall to his knees. The Southern Gates were spewing out a monstrous swarm. A gigantic tidal wave of wings, stings and fangs. This time, there was no Brandille to save them, only a miracle could guard them from the coming cataclysm. Raising her head and closing her eyes, Belenor then dedicated a thought to each of her loved ones. To Varran and Melkiar, whom he would have so much liked to see one last time. To Tisse and Garius, whom he would soon join. To Xynala and Brandille, by his side, until the end. To Penala, of course, whom he hoped would be safe. Even to his father and mother, whom he loved, despite everything. Finally, he devoted his last thought to Messen Dyn, the old Kamist monk whom he had so assiduously spent time with in recent years. So, with his eyes closed and his face fixed on the Day Star, he began to pray to the Kamis, much especially the Black Kami. Then he thought of the Supreme Kami, whoever he had been. After all, who else but him could perform miracles? Several seconds passed, waiting for death and praying. And then, against all odds, Jena answered the Fyros. With a heavenly squeak. Above Fyre, now bathed in darkness, a gigantic Karavan flying machine had just appeared. Upset, Belenor raised his arms to the sky and burst into tears. He had never forgotten what Melkiar had said to him that day while sitting in the tavern.
-Au fond de lui, et malgré la déférence qu’il témoignait aux Kamis, Bélénor comprenait la position de Melkiar. Mais que pouvaient les homins, seuls, face à tant d’horreur ? Comment pouvaient-ils se libérer de la servitude des Puissances, sans perdre tout ce qu’ils avaient acquis jusqu’alors ? Quelles que soient les réponses à ces questions, en cet instant, le Fyros avait déjà fait son propre choix : celui de la vie.}}
+"I hate the Karavan as much as I hate the Kamis… They think they are our masters… And that will last as long as we continue to name them 'Powers'! For as long as homins chain themselves to them, so long will they remain slaves in their eyes! As for me, I have already made my choice, that day: rather to die free than to live enslaved!"
 {{NavChap|[[Chapter XIV - Savagery]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapitre XVI - Civilizations]]}}
 {{Portal|The Great Library}}

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 Obsessed by these questions, the Fyros had combed all the studies on the Kamis available at the Academy. He wanted to know everything about these spirits of nature. Of course, he knew that the knowledge compiled by the Empire was not enough, and that sooner or later he would have to go to the highest place of known Kamic knowledge: the city of Taai-Toon, where the Great Library of the Zorai people was rebuilt after the Empire had sacked Zoran in 2328. Unable to resign himself to leaving the Academy without the highest rank, like Melkiar before him, Belenor had to find something to quench his thirst for knowledge. Thus he began to frequent the Kamis temples of the capital, sometimes accompanied by Xynala, where they were both initiated into various ritual practices. Although freedom of worship was a right granted by the Empire to its citizens, the spirituality of the Fyros was never to prevail over the "Four Pillars of the Empire". That is why the Empire allowed, under certain conditions only, the construction of temples within its cities. Moving thus from theory to practice, Belenor was surprised to see how the followers of the various Kamic faiths maintained good relations, despite certain major disagreements. The most important of these was the existence and identity of the Supreme Kami. According to the majority of cults, the Supreme Kami was Jena, the Goddess of the Day Star and the Mother of the hominity, while for other more animistic currents, there was no Supreme Kami. If in "The Sacred War", the story he had written a few years earlier, Belenor had amused himself by imagining the Supreme Kami as a gigantic entity buried somewhere in the depths of Atys, none of the Kamic cults he had studied described such a being. Yet he had never forgotten the time he had met that Zorai trader in the tavern more than ten years before. He had never forgotten the frightened look she had given him as he spoke the words "Black Mask"… A black mask he had seen himself caressing in a vision, triggered by the Black Kami's physical contact, as he and Xynala had gone to Garius' improvised burial chamber. Deep down, Belenor was convinced that his childhood dreams, the very ones that had fed his story, were not insignificant. Perhaps they had something to do with this Black Kami. So the Fyros got into his head to meet a Kami, in order to discuss with him.
-▼ TO TRANSLATE ▼
+[[file:Kami 1.jpg|right|400px|alt=Fire Kami]]
-C’est la demande qu’il fit à Messen Dyn, un vieux moine kamiste avec lequel il s’était lié d’amitié. D’abord hésitant, le vieux Fyros accepta finalement la requête du jeune adepte, avec moins l’objectif de lui rendre service que de lui faire comprendre que les Kamis n’étaient pas créatures loquaces. D’après lui, si le jeune homin était réellement béni des Kamis, c’est de lui-même qu’il devait comprendre le destin qu’ils lui réservaient. Les premières fois que Messen tenta d’invoquer un Kami, le rituel échoua : assis en tailleur devant le grand brasier qui surplombait l’autel, les deux Fyros méditèrent et prièrent longuement, sans succès. Et puis un jour, alors que rien ne présageait du caractère particulier de cette séance de méditation, le grand feu cessa brusquement de vaciller. Comme si elles venaient de se solidifier, cinq flammes rouges se figèrent, tandis que dans le fond du brasier, les bûches noircies semblaient animées d’étranges mouvements. Assurément, une force invisible était en train de modeler la matière carbonée et flamboyante. Ce n’est que lorsque le Fyros comprit que les deux formes jaunes qu’il observait n’étaient rien d'autre qu’une paire d’yeux, qu’il sut que le rituel avait fonctionné. Pourvu de longs membres glabres de couleur brune, et de cinq cornes rappelant du bois brûlé encore rougeoyant à l'extrémité, parcourues de nervures rouges et orangées s'étendant jusqu'à ses grands yeux jaunes, le Kami de Feu était en train de s’extirper du brasier. Quelques secondes plus tard, c’est le dos voûté, accroupie sur le rebord de l’autel devant les flammes incandescentes, que la divine créature observait silencieusement les deux homins. Messen remercia longuement son invité puis lui expliqua brièvement pourquoi il avait fait appel à lui. Et alors que le vieux moine donnait la parole à Bélénor, et que celui-ci remerciait à son tour le Kami de Feu, la créature divine bondit en arrière et disparut dans une gerbe de flammes…
+This is the request he made to Messen Dyn, an old Kamist monk with whom he had befriended. Hesitant at first, the old Fyros finally accepted the young follower's request, not so much to do him a favor as to make him understand that the Kamis were not loquacious creatures. In his opinion, if the young homin was really blessed by the Kami, he should by himself understand the fate they had in store for him. The first few times Messen tried to invoke a Kami, the ritual failed: sitting cross-legged in front of the great brazier that overhung the altar, the two Fyros meditated and prayed for a long time, without success. And then one day, when there was no indication that this meditation session would be special, the great fire suddenly stopped flickering. As if they had just solidified, five red flames froze, while at the bottom of the blaze, the blackened logs seemed to be animated by strange movements. Surely some unseen force was shaping the flaming and carbonaceous material. Only when the Fyros realized that the two yellow shapes he was watching at were nothing more than a pair of eyes, did he know that the ritual had worked. Endowed with long, hairless, brown limbs and five horns that looked like burnt wood, still glowing at the tip, with red and orange veins running down to its large yellow eyes, the Fire Kami was in the process of extricating itself from the inferno. A few seconds later, it is the arched back, crouched on the edge of the altar in front of the incandescent flames, that the divine creature observed silently the two homins. Messen thanked his guest for a long time then explained him briefly why he had called upon him. And while the old monk gave the word to Belenor, and that this one thanked in his turn the Kami of Fire, the divine creature jumped back and disappeared in a spray of flames…
-{{Couillard}}
+{{Couillard}}▼ TO TRANSLATE ▼
 Assis confortablement sur le fauteuil en cuir de rendor de son père, les coudes posés sur son magnifique bureau en bois massif, et les mains occupées à jouer avec la tresse de sa longue barbe acajou, Bélénor fixait la flamme de la lanterne murale d’un air éteint. Encore aujourd’hui, le souvenir de cette brève rencontre restait brûlant. Autant que la déception qui lui était associée. Car depuis cette fois-là, jamais il n’avait revu de Kami. Détachant son regard de la source de lumière hypnotique, le Fyros reporta son attention sur le devoir de son étudiant. Mais à peine eut-il froncé les sourcils, décelant une erreur grossière, qu’il entendit quelqu’un toquer à la porte.

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 <center><span style="color:purple;font-weight:bold"><big><big>'''Jena Year 2481'''</big></big></span></center>
-<span style=color:red><sub>—————————————</sub><br>'''▼ TO TRANSLATE ▼'''<br><sup>—————————————</sup></span>
+{{Quotation|''Belenor Nebius, narrator''|If Belenor forgot the number of years it took him to mourn, he did so, as Brandille had announced him. There was that day when the first image that came to him when he woke up was not the severed head of his friend. Then that other time, when he didn't think about him all day. Month after month, the ghost of Garius, until then clinging to his shoulders, gained in lightness. And then one day, he vanished, without the Fyros even realizing it, leaving only the happy memories behind. Today, thinking back on this strange period, only the memory of the first two years seemed clear to him. Two difficult years, so much his relation with Varran had degraded… Because since the death of his twin, the colossus was only the shadow of himself. An aggressive and sad shadow. His friends thought they would seen him sink definitively all when his father, already quite weakened by his work in the mines, committed suicide a few months later. So when, in 2477, Melkiar obtained the highest academic rank and decided, to the great displeasure of the army, to leave Fyre for good to join his tribe, he took Varran under his wing. As sad as the goodbyes were then, Belenor experienced Varran's departure as a relief. Like a new beginning. And to move on, he took refuge in work.
-C’est ainsi que, en parallèle de la fin de ses études, le Fyros rejoignit le corps enseignant de l’Académie. Si les cours de stratégie militaire qu’il dispensait aux jeunes académiciens et académiciennes occupaient beaucoup de son temps, son nouveau statut lui octroyait aussi certains privilèges. Dont notamment l’accès aux sections privées de la Grande Bibliothèque de Fyre. Ainsi, Bélénor eut tout le loisir de se replonger dans un sujet qui l’avait fort intéressé au point culminant de l’écriture de son histoire : l’étude de la Karavan, des Kamis, et des nombreux cultes qu’on leur vouait. En effet, sa rencontre avec le Kami Noir l’avait profondément bouleversé. Était-il le même que celui apparu quelques mois après sa naissance, au-dessus de son berceau, comme lui avaient conté ses parents ? Si oui, quels liens partageait-il avec lui ? Pourquoi l’avait-il sauvé ? Et puis, qu’en était-il de cette voix, qu’il était certain d’avoir entendu, juste avant que le Kami n’attaque les Sauvages ?
+Thus, while finishing his studies, the Fyros joined the teaching staff of the Academy. While the military strategy courses he was teching to the young academicians occupied much of his time, his new status also granted him certain privileges. One of them was access to the private sections of the Great Library of Fyre. Thus, Belenor had plenty of time to delve into a subject that had interested him greatly at the acme of the writing of his story: the study of the Karavan, the Kamis, and the many cults that were dedicated to them. This is why he was so interested in the study of the Karavan, the Kamis, and the many cults dedicated to them. Indeed, his encounter with the Black Kami had deeply upset him. Was it the same one that appeared a few months after his birth, above his cradle, as his parents had told him? If so, what ties did he share with him? Why had he saved him? And then, what about that voice, which he was sure he had heard, just before the Kami attacked the Dune Riders?
-« ''J’ai besoin de toi Bélénor… Pense aux Jours Heureux, Bélénor… Je suis toujours à tes côtés, Bélénor. N’oublie jamais.'' »
+:"I need you, Belenor... Think of the Happy Days, Belenor... I am always by your side, Belenor. Never forget.''
 C’est la demande qu’il fit à Messen Dyn, un vieux moine kamiste avec lequel il s’était lié d’amitié. D’abord hésitant, le vieux Fyros accepta finalement la requête du jeune adepte, avec moins l’objectif de lui rendre service que de lui faire comprendre que les Kamis n’étaient pas créatures loquaces. D’après lui, si le jeune homin était réellement béni des Kamis, c’est de lui-même qu’il devait comprendre le destin qu’ils lui réservaient. Les premières fois que Messen tenta d’invoquer un Kami, le rituel échoua : assis en tailleur devant le grand brasier qui surplombait l’autel, les deux Fyros méditèrent et prièrent longuement, sans succès. Et puis un jour, alors que rien ne présageait du caractère particulier de cette séance de méditation, le grand feu cessa brusquement de vaciller. Comme si elles venaient de se solidifier, cinq flammes rouges se figèrent, tandis que dans le fond du brasier, les bûches noircies semblaient animées d’étranges mouvements. Assurément, une force invisible était en train de modeler la matière carbonée et flamboyante. Ce n’est que lorsque le Fyros comprit que les deux formes jaunes qu’il observait n’étaient rien d'autre qu’une paire d’yeux, qu’il sut que le rituel avait fonctionné. Pourvu de longs membres glabres de couleur brune, et de cinq cornes rappelant du bois brûlé encore rougeoyant à l'extrémité, parcourues de nervures rouges et orangées s'étendant jusqu'à ses grands yeux jaunes, le Kami de Feu était en train de s’extirper du brasier. Quelques secondes plus tard, c’est le dos voûté, accroupie sur le rebord de l’autel devant les flammes incandescentes, que la divine créature observait silencieusement les deux homins. Messen remercia longuement son invité puis lui expliqua brièvement pourquoi il avait fait appel à lui. Et alors que le vieux moine donnait la parole à Bélénor, et que celui-ci remerciait à son tour le Kami de Feu, la créature divine bondit en arrière et disparut dans une gerbe de flammes…
 {{Couillard}}

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 « Xynala, Tisse, rendez-vous à la caserne voisine et rassemblez chacune un escadron de réservistes ! Vous êtes promues capitaine pour la journée ! Et si vous réussissez, croyez-bien que vous le resterez ! Transmettez mes consignes aux officiers que vous trouverez sur place ! »
-Montée sur un mektoub cuirassé jusqu'à la trompe, la vénérable Fyrosse celle-là même qui avait introduit le célèbre duel qui opposa Melkiar et Xynala durant les Jeux de l’Académie, il y a déjà presque quinze ans, venait d’arriver à leur niveau. Elle avait enfilé une armure lourde et tenait en main une longue pique acérée. Au travers de sa visière, elle examina successivement les deux Fyrosses d’un air rageur. Ainsi juchée, armée et vêtue, rien hormis les nombreuses décorations qui bardaient son plastron ne pouvait laisser croire que la guerrière avait plus de soixante-dix ans. Une nouvelle fois, son âge témoignait de la longévité importante des homins, bien supérieure à celle des animaux qui peuplaient l’Écorce. Plaçant la tête de sa monture en direction du sud, la Fyrosse continua.
+Montée sur un mektoub cuirassé jusqu'à la trompe, la vénérable Fyrosse, celle-là même qui avait arbitré le célèbre duel qui avait opposé Melkiar et Xynala durant les Jeux de l’Académie, presque quinze ans auparavant, venait d’arriver à leur niveau.. Elle avait enfilé une armure lourde et tenait en main une longue pique acérée. Au travers de sa visière, elle examina successivement les deux Fyrosses d’un air rageur. Ainsi juchée, armée et vêtue, rien hormis les nombreuses décorations qui bardaient son plastron ne pouvait laisser croire que la guerrière avait plus de soixante-dix ans. Une nouvelle fois, son âge témoignait de la longévité importante des homins, bien supérieure à celle des animaux qui peuplaient l’Écorce. Plaçant la tête de sa monture en direction du sud, la Fyrosse continua.
 « Des armes de tir devront être données à chacun des soldats, et les amplificateurs de magie les plus perfectionnés iront aux mains des mages les plus doués ! Une fois équipés, Vous emprunterez les monte-charges jusqu’au sommet de la Dorsale ! Votre objectif sera d’attirer ces monstres volants en dehors des failles de la cité ! Tout est bien clair ?