Внутреннее тестирование Вики/E-XII — различия между версиями
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:''"No, Brandille. It's okay. Leave her alone, please," Belenor interrupted her, grabbing her hand. | :''"No, Brandille. It's okay. Leave her alone, please," Belenor interrupted her, grabbing her hand. | ||
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− | + | The equilibrist, who was about to insist, glanced at her friend. He was livid. If Belenor understood Brandille's anger, only he could have catched the Zorai's gaze behind the gaps in her mask. As he mentioned the Black Mask, her eyes had filled with fear. And if he did not understand the reason for such a reaction, his biggest concern was not there. Because at this precise moment, hand tightened around the wrist of Brandille, Belenor wished only one thing: not to confront itself more with his interlocutor. He was taken of an unusual and disturbing desire. That of not wanting to know more. That of forgetting, forever, this strange and anguishing moment, and all its potential of meaning. By chance, his comrades gave him the opportunity to pass to another thing: Xynala had just risen abruptly, overturning the pints that Belenor and Brandille had forgotten, and had rushed towards the exit head down. Around the table, only Varran and Garius seemed to care about their friend's sudden departure. Melkiar and Tisse as for them were too busy kissing. Without waiting, Belenor dashed for the door. He was followed closely by Brandille and the shadow of his doubts. | |
{{Couillard}} | {{Couillard}} | ||
− | + | In spite of the density of the crowd, Belenor managed not to lose sight of Xynala. However, he had to wait for them to move away from the living areas to catch up with her. When he finally arrived at her level, at the intersection of a small, quiet and isolated alley, Xynala instantly turned around and threw herself into his arms. She was in tears. At a distance, Brandille sat down on a bench carved into a bark wall and watched her two friends. | |
− | + | :''"Be… Belenor… how are you doing? You… You seem so serene… Whereas I… I can't do it anymore. I thought that these few months of absence would allow me to change my way of looking at him, but… but no. It's even the opposite, I… I love him more than ever. And then Tisse… I… I hate feeling all this animosity, this… this jealousy. I would so much like to move on, Belenor. And I'm so afraid I'll never make it… Help me, please!" | |
− | + | Belenor held Xynala tightly against him. He could feel the outline of her muscles through her clothes. He never thought he would see his friend in such a state of distress. She was usually so strong. So determined. So combative. A rush of emotion overwhelmed him and he felt the tears welling up. No. He shouldn't let his emotions get the better of him. Not now. That was not what Xynala needed. | |
− | + | "I totally understand how you feel Xynala, believe me. And if I seem so serene about Melkiar and Tisse, it's simply because, unlike you, I always knew I had no chance. Melkiar likes women. I like men. As cruel as this reality is, it had the merit of preventing me from hoping. | |
− | + | :''"I'm sorry for you Belenor… I havn't been there enough when you weren't well." | |
− | + | :''"Don't apologize Xynala! I am fine now, thanks to you all. Now I want you to know that I am here for you. So, I want you to understand that what you are feeling today will pass, sooner or later." | |
− | + | :''"How can you be sure of that?" asked Xynala between sobs. | |
− | + | :''"Because everything passes, Xynala. The pain and the complicated episodes. The love and the good times." | |
− | + | At these words, Xynala tightened her grip. | |
− | + | :''"No, Belenor, the friendship that unites us all is eternal, I know that. We are one big family." | |
− | + | :''"I don't think so Xynala, the Fyros replied, stroking her hair tenderly. One day, we won't be friends anymore, that's a certainty. The potential reasons are numerous: ideological differences, weariness, geographical distance, or simply death. Everything passes Xynala. Everything… Sorry, I'm not the best at comforting. What I'm trying to tell you is simply that you'll get better, soon, and whatever happens. Such is life. So goes the time." | |
− | + | The Fyrossa loosened her embrace and straightened up. Her eyes were still misty with tears, but her bout of sadness seemed to have passed. | |
− | + | :''""Do you think you and I will ever fall in love with a homin who will feel the same way about us?" | |
− | + | :''"Yes, I am almost certain of it. You and I will live love. A love just as transitory as everything else." | |
− | + | :''"How can you remain so pragmatic, Belenor?" the Fyros replied, rubbing her eyes. | |
− | + | :''"It's Brandille. By dint of hanging out with her, I see the world philosophically, he replied in an ironic tone." | |
− | + | :''"Besides, where is he?" | |
− | + | Belenor turned around. Brandille had indeed disappeared. | |
− | + | :''"I don't know. I told you, everything passes, Xynala. Everything. Even Brandille. Or rather, especially Brandille. Because Brandille is the very definition of change. Of vitality. Don't you think?" | |
− | + | For all answer, Xynala smiled and kissed Belenor on the cheek. She took him by the hand and they both headed back to the tavern. She was feeling better. Belenor smiled back. Finally, he wasn't that bad at comforting.}} | |
{{NavChap|[[Chapter XI - The Generation of Miracles]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter XIII - The Desert of a Hundred Perils]]}} | {{NavChap|[[Chapter XI - The Generation of Miracles]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter XIII - The Desert of a Hundred Perils]]}} | ||
{{Portal|The Great Library}} | {{Portal|The Great Library}} |