Внутреннее тестирование Вики/E-XII — различия между версиями
Материал из ЭнциклопАтис
Lanstiril (обсуждение | вклад) м |
Lanstiril (обсуждение | вклад) м |
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Строка 159: | Строка 159: | ||
:''"Have you ever met a Zorai homin or homina?" | :''"Have you ever met a Zorai homin or homina?" | ||
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− | + | Bélénor looked at Brandille, dumbstruck. Then his friend pointed in the direction of the opposite corner of the tavern. | |
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+ | :''"Over there." | ||
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+ | Belenor turned his head, and with a throat full of shookie, nearly choked. A member of the Zorai people was indeed seated at the counter with his back to them. | ||
− | + | :''"Enor, let's go talk to him!" | |
− | + | Without waiting, Brandille grabbed Belenor by the hand and pulled him toward the stranger. The Fyros let her, though panicked at the thought of meeting a Zorai. If he had already come across some of them on seldom times in the streets of Fyre, he had never had the opportunity to talk to one of them face to face. Besides, this was the case for the vast majority of Fyros. Indeed, it was often difficult to approach the Zorai people, who had become particularly isolationist over time. It was told that the Zorai had never forgiven the Fyro armies for having laid siege to Zoran on a misunderstanding in 2328, believing that the Theocracy was the ally of the Kingdom of Matia. It must be said that the Great Library of Zoran, which at the time consisted of several thousand volumes dealing mostly with the Kamis, had been completely destroyed by Fyross artillery... This military error had convinced the Theocracy to extend the construction of its Great Wall to all the borders of the Jungle. A Great Wall that the Zoraïs refused to open to Tryker refugees when the Kingdom of Matia invaded Trykoth thirty-five years earlier and enslaved the Lake people. Enough to make many homins suspicious of the Zoraïs, then... Belenor, for his part, was far from these considerations, and ardently wished such a meeting. So much so that he had developed a form of frustration. For, by dint of writing about a people of whom he had never actually met a representative, he feared that his fascination was excessive, that it bordered on racial fetishism. When the two comrades arrived at the counter, they realized that the individual was actually a homina. Leaning against the bar, the Zoraï was drinking a soup through a strange straw. Instantly, Belenor fell captivated by her blue skin, but especially with her mask. Of elongated form and with asymmetrical horns, it was also completely white. If the Fyros was fascinated by its shape and color, one detail intrigued him more than anything else: its texture. At that moment, he would have given anything to run his fingers over that bony face, which was said to be warm and soft. To touch this sacred gift of the Kamis, of which the Zorai people were the sole and lucky owners. Realizing that his friend would not take the floor on his own, Brandille took his best Mateis and called out to the Zorai. For while there was no guarantee that she spoke Fyrk, the Fyro language, correctly, it was rare for travelers not to master Mateis. | |
− | + | :''"Hello, and sorry to bother you. We are not used to meeting Zorais here in Fyre. So we were curious to meet you. Would you have some time for us?" | |
− | + | The Zorai lowered her head in the direction of the two youths and tilted her mask to the side. Facing her, and though she was seating, Brandille looked tiny. While the Zorai must have been over six feet tall, Brandille was only four feet tall, the average height of the Tryker people. Belenor winced, certain that her friend had been too abrupt. His inability to read the facial expressions of his bony-faced interlocutor only accentuated his anguish. But against all odds, the Zoraï withdrew the straw of the labial slit of her mask and answered in a very comprehensible fyrk. | |
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− | + | :''"Hello. The Fyros and Trykers are definitely quite curious. What can I do for you?" | |
− | + | Without further reservation, Brandille climbed onto the stool to the right of the Zorai. Belenor, hesitant, remained standing. In normal circumstances, he would probably have fled. But it was without counting the disinhibiting effects of alcohol. | |
− | + | :''"Thank you very much! You see, my friend here is finishing writing a story featuring Zorais. But he's never met any of you people. I was thinking you might be able to help him make his story more believable. But you are certainly very busy! Besides, what are you doing in Fyre?" | |
− | + | :''"I'm on a trade mission," the Zorai replied, tucking her straw into the small pouch thet fwas flanking her left thigh. But the assassination of the sharükos changes many things. So I'll have to leave again soon. A story about my people, then? Interesting. I am listening, young Fyros. What questions do you wish to ask me?" | |
− | + | True to himself, Belenor blushed. He was fascinated by the mask of his interlocutor, who seemed to have a slight flexibility in his jaw. | |
− | + | :''"Th… Thank you for giving us a little of your time. To tell you the truth, I don't have any specific questions. I hadn't planned to meet any of your people today… I… I'm pretty caught off guard." | |
− | + | :''"So tell me about the story you're writing, the Zorai replied calmly. And I will tell you what it inspires me." | |
− | + | :''"Ah… Heu… All right. It's a story about a Zorai from a tribe that worships the Kamis, but refutes the idea that Jena is the Supreme Kami. A tribe fiercely opposed to the Karavan, who decides one day to launch a great expedition in order to preach the good word and fight against the Karavan's minions. This is what they call the "Sacred War". | |
− | + | :''"Ah? This is original. And who would the Supreme Kami be?" the Zorai asked, crossing her fingers. | |
− | + | :''"The… The Supreme Kami would be Atys itself. Or rather its heart. I was inspired by a dream I had, where each Kami was actually a fragment of a gigantic entity buried in the center of Atys. Jena would be… a usurper." | |
− | + | :''"An interesting, if very heretical, vision. Fortunately for you, the Sages of Zoran are quite far from Fyre. I would simply reply that there are some tribes in the Jungle with pagan beliefs, as there probably are in the Desert. In that, your invention is coherent." | |
− | + | Belenor's face lit up. This simple comment was of great importance to him. The Zorai continued. | |
− | + | :''"I assume that the tribe you have imagined has some cultural particularities related to this heretical belief?" | |
− | + | :''"Yes, absolutely!" said Belenor, now very enthusiastic. I tried to respect as much as possible what I knew about the culture of your people, while inventing some things. For example, I know that the Zorai sometimes paint their masks. I imagined that this tribe did not use paint, but tattoos." | |
− | + | :''"Tattoos?! How horrible. To voluntarily injure your mask is a serious offense to the Kamis. Not to mention the terrible pain involved… | |
− | + | :''"Yes, I am fully aware of that. But this tribe is said to practice unusual heretical rites, most of them very painful. Each tattoo added on the mask would be for example an honorary rite of passage. The ultimate honor would be represented by a full tattoo, that of the tribe's chief, the Black Mask." | |
− | + | Brandille's stool toppled over and Belenor narrowly avoided his friend's fall. The Zorai had abruptly stood up, for no apparent reason, and was now walking towards the exit with a determined step. Brandille, now standing on the rickety seat, raised her voice. | |
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− | + | :''"Hey! But don't you feel well?! What comes over you? I…" | |
+ | :''"No, Brandille. It's okay. Leave her alone, please," Belenor interrupted her, grabbing her hand. | ||
+ | ▼ TO TRANSLATE ▼ | ||
L’équilibriste, qui s’apprêtait à renchérir, jeta un coup d'œil à son ami. Il était livide. Si Bélénor comprenait la colère de Brandille, lui seul avait pu apercevoir le regard de la Zoraï derrière les interstices de son masque. Alors qu’il faisait mention du Masque Noir, ses yeux s’étaient remplis de peur. Et s’il ne comprenait pas le pourquoi d’une telle réaction, sa plus grande interrogation n’était pas là. Car à cet instant précis, la main serrée autour du poignet de Brandille, Bélénor désirait une seule et unique chose : ne pas se confronter davantage à son interlocutrice. Il était pris d’un désir inhabituel et dérangeant. Celui de ne pas vouloir en savoir plus. Celui d’oublier, à tout jamais, cet étrange et angoissant moment, et tout son potentiel de signification. Par chance, ses camarades lui donnèrent l’occasion de passer à autre chose : Xynala venait de se lever brusquement, renversant au passage les pintes que Bénélor et Brandille avaient oubliées, et s’était précipitée vers la sortie tête baissée. Autour de la table, seuls Varran et Garius semblaient se préoccuper du départ brutal de leur amie. Melkiar et Tisse, quant à eux, étaient trop occupés à s’embrasser. Sans attendre, Bélénor s’élança en direction de la porte. Il était suivi de près par Brandille et par l’ombre de ses doutes. | L’équilibriste, qui s’apprêtait à renchérir, jeta un coup d'œil à son ami. Il était livide. Si Bélénor comprenait la colère de Brandille, lui seul avait pu apercevoir le regard de la Zoraï derrière les interstices de son masque. Alors qu’il faisait mention du Masque Noir, ses yeux s’étaient remplis de peur. Et s’il ne comprenait pas le pourquoi d’une telle réaction, sa plus grande interrogation n’était pas là. Car à cet instant précis, la main serrée autour du poignet de Brandille, Bélénor désirait une seule et unique chose : ne pas se confronter davantage à son interlocutrice. Il était pris d’un désir inhabituel et dérangeant. Celui de ne pas vouloir en savoir plus. Celui d’oublier, à tout jamais, cet étrange et angoissant moment, et tout son potentiel de signification. Par chance, ses camarades lui donnèrent l’occasion de passer à autre chose : Xynala venait de se lever brusquement, renversant au passage les pintes que Bénélor et Brandille avaient oubliées, et s’était précipitée vers la sortie tête baissée. Autour de la table, seuls Varran et Garius semblaient se préoccuper du départ brutal de leur amie. Melkiar et Tisse, quant à eux, étaient trop occupés à s’embrasser. Sans attendre, Bélénor s’élança en direction de la porte. Il était suivi de près par Brandille et par l’ombre de ses doutes. | ||
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