Внутреннее тестирование Вики/E-XV — различия между версиями
Материал из ЭнциклопАтис
Lanstiril (обсуждение | вклад) м |
Lanstiril (обсуждение | вклад) м |
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| Строка 26: | Строка 26: | ||
Sitting comfortably on his father's rendorhide chair, elbows resting on his magnificent solid wood desk, and hands busy playing with the braid of his long mahogany beard, Belenor stared dully at the flame of the wall lantern. Even today, the memory of this brief encounter remained burning. As much as the disappointment that was associated with it. For since that time, he had never seen a Kami again. Taking his eyes off the hypnotic light source, the Fyros turned his attention back to his student's assignment. But no sooner had he frowned, detecting a gross error, than he heard a knock on the door. | Sitting comfortably on his father's rendorhide chair, elbows resting on his magnificent solid wood desk, and hands busy playing with the braid of his long mahogany beard, Belenor stared dully at the flame of the wall lantern. Even today, the memory of this brief encounter remained burning. As much as the disappointment that was associated with it. For since that time, he had never seen a Kami again. Taking his eyes off the hypnotic light source, the Fyros turned his attention back to his student's assignment. But no sooner had he frowned, detecting a gross error, than he heard a knock on the door. | ||
| − | :''"Come in" | + | :''"Come in."'' the Fyros ordered without taking his eyes off his copy. |
:''"I'm sorry to bother you so early, young master, but your friends just arrived already. They are waiting for you in the lobby." | :''"I'm sorry to bother you so early, young master, but your friends just arrived already. They are waiting for you in the lobby." | ||
| Строка 46: | Строка 46: | ||
:''"So do me the favor to take a detour to the kitchen before you join your friends. And don't forget to enjoy this day, it would be a shame to pass that by. Oh, I also wanted to tell you that this braid looks great on you! When I was your age, your father wore the same braid." | :''"So do me the favor to take a detour to the kitchen before you join your friends. And don't forget to enjoy this day, it would be a shame to pass that by. Oh, I also wanted to tell you that this braid looks great on you! When I was your age, your father wore the same braid." | ||
| − | :''"So, I would have preferred to do without this compliment, Penala" | + | :''"So, I would have preferred to do without this compliment, Penala."'' Belenor grinned before returning her kiss. |
His nurse gave a slight laugh, kissed him one last time, then gently pushed him out of the office. Half obediently, Belenor went through the manor at the run, but headed straight for the entrance hall, without passing through the kitchen. As agreed, Xynala, Tisse and Brandille were waiting for him next to the big doors of the cave manor. | His nurse gave a slight laugh, kissed him one last time, then gently pushed him out of the office. Half obediently, Belenor went through the manor at the run, but headed straight for the entrance hall, without passing through the kitchen. As agreed, Xynala, Tisse and Brandille were waiting for him next to the big doors of the cave manor. | ||
| Строка 52: | Строка 52: | ||
The two Fyrossa, each dressed in their scarlet military uniforms, were busy looking at a large amber sculpture that decorated the entrance. Four years ago, when Melkiar and Varran had departed, they had both decided to leave the Academy and join the military full time. The trophies they had won during their teenage years, combined with the last academic rank they had earned and the fame they had gained in recent years as reservists, had allowed them to enter as officers. From then on, the two homines had become very close, forgetting all about the love fights of their adolescence. Xynala Zeseus, now a lieutenant, was in charge of one of the mobile platoons responsible for maintaining order in Fyre. As for her, Tisse Apoan, promoted to lieutenant instructor, was in charge of teaching marksmanship to the military and academics. In many ways, the exemplary careers of the two Fyrossa were emblematic of the porosity that existed between the Academy and the Imperial Army. Brandille, for her part, wearing loose, brightly colored clothes that matched her multicolored braids, stood on the tips of her boots and was monitoring the outskirts of the mansion through the screened hatch in the main door. Watching his friend from the top of the open staircase that led to the entrance hall, Belenor knew instantly that something was not quite right: Brandille was strangely motionless. | The two Fyrossa, each dressed in their scarlet military uniforms, were busy looking at a large amber sculpture that decorated the entrance. Four years ago, when Melkiar and Varran had departed, they had both decided to leave the Academy and join the military full time. The trophies they had won during their teenage years, combined with the last academic rank they had earned and the fame they had gained in recent years as reservists, had allowed them to enter as officers. From then on, the two homines had become very close, forgetting all about the love fights of their adolescence. Xynala Zeseus, now a lieutenant, was in charge of one of the mobile platoons responsible for maintaining order in Fyre. As for her, Tisse Apoan, promoted to lieutenant instructor, was in charge of teaching marksmanship to the military and academics. In many ways, the exemplary careers of the two Fyrossa were emblematic of the porosity that existed between the Academy and the Imperial Army. Brandille, for her part, wearing loose, brightly colored clothes that matched her multicolored braids, stood on the tips of her boots and was monitoring the outskirts of the mansion through the screened hatch in the main door. Watching his friend from the top of the open staircase that led to the entrance hall, Belenor knew instantly that something was not quite right: Brandille was strangely motionless. | ||
| − | :''"Hello, you three | + | :''"Hello, you three."'' said the Fyros as he came down the steps two at a time. ''"Is everything all right, Brandille?" |
:''"Except for the awful smell that's been attacking my pretty little nose since this morning, you mean?" | :''"Except for the awful smell that's been attacking my pretty little nose since this morning, you mean?" | ||
| Строка 58: | Строка 58: | ||
:''"What do you mean? What smell are you talking about?" | :''"What do you mean? What smell are you talking about?" | ||
| − | :''"Ah, so you don't smell anything either" | + | :''"Ah, so you don't smell anything either."'' exclaimed Xynala, turning around. ''"The first thing that Brandille told us at noon, when we came to look for him with Tisse, was that we didn't smell good… Here's the mood." |
Turning around with a bounce, Brandille put her hands on her hips and looked falsely outraged. | Turning around with a bounce, Brandille put her hands on her hips and looked falsely outraged. | ||
| Строка 64: | Строка 64: | ||
:''"It is not you, specifically, who does not smell good. I can't count the number of baths we've already shared, so I can attest to the impeccable quality of your grooming. It's not you, it's on you. It's in the air, and it's settling everywhere!" | :''"It is not you, specifically, who does not smell good. I can't count the number of baths we've already shared, so I can attest to the impeccable quality of your grooming. It's not you, it's on you. It's in the air, and it's settling everywhere!" | ||
| − | :''"And what does that smell look like, Brandille?" continued the Fyros. | + | :''"And what does that smell look like, Brandille?"'' continued the Fyros. |
:''"I could hardly tell you, Enor. A pungent, sickening smell. For the moment that's still light. But my little nose – and you know how reliable it is – is certain that the smell is only getting closer. Ah, by the way, it has just revealed to me that it is carried by the west winds!" | :''"I could hardly tell you, Enor. A pungent, sickening smell. For the moment that's still light. But my little nose – and you know how reliable it is – is certain that the smell is only getting closer. Ah, by the way, it has just revealed to me that it is carried by the west winds!" | ||
| − | :''"The west winds? questioned Tisse mischievously, his fingers lost in his long red hair. Ah, but that's good, we have the answer! That's Melkiar and Varran, who have returned from the depths of the Desert after four years without bathing!" | + | :''"The west winds?"'' questioned Tisse mischievously, his fingers lost in his long red hair. ''"Ah, but that's good, we have the answer! That's Melkiar and Varran, who have returned from the depths of the Desert after four years without bathing!" |
At these words, Belenor and Xynala burst out laughing. Brandille rolled his big mauve eyes to the sky, opened the doors of the manor wide and pinched her nose. | At these words, Belenor and Xynala burst out laughing. Brandille rolled his big mauve eyes to the sky, opened the doors of the manor wide and pinched her nose. | ||
| Строка 74: | Строка 74: | ||
:''"You three make a fine bunch of comics. Would you like to join my troupe? I'm recruiting non-stop right now, for my new show. In fact, there's a rehearsal tonight!" | :''"You three make a fine bunch of comics. Would you like to join my troupe? I'm recruiting non-stop right now, for my new show. In fact, there's a rehearsal tonight!" | ||
| − | :''"By no mean | + | :''"By no mean."'' replied the redhead. ''"If we're on leave today, it's not to work tonight!" |
| − | :''"More seriously Brandille, this smell is worrying you? continued Belenor while passing the door step following Tisse and Xynala. | + | :''"More seriously Brandille, this smell is worrying you?"'' continued Belenor while passing the door step following Tisse and Xynala. |
| − | :''"Quite enough, yes. But maybe Tisse is right, and that it emanates simply from the two other weirdos. He's expected at the imperial palace, isn't he?" asked Brandille as she headed for Dyros Avenue. | + | :''"Quite enough, yes. But maybe Tisse is right, and that it emanates simply from the two other weirdos. He's expected at the imperial palace, isn't he?"'' asked Brandille as she headed for Dyros Avenue. |
| − | :''"Yes | + | :''"Yes."'' Belenor swallowed. ''"That's right." |
| − | |||
| − | |||
| − | + | If the reception of her friends had allowed him to forget her anxieties, at least during a few moments, these had just reappeared at gallop. Because today marked the return of Melkiar and Varran in the Fyros capital, after four years of absence. Four years during which few letters had been exchanged. Four years of separation, which perhaps questioned the depth of their friendship. Belenor remembered how, eleven years ago, when to convince Xynala that the heartache she felt would pass, like all the negative and positive emotions that crossed the homins during their life, he had taken as an example the affection that all of them felt for each other. | |
| − | + | :"One day, we won't be friends anymore, that's a certainty. The potential reasons are numerous: ideological differences, weariness, physical distance, or simply death. Everything passes Xynala. Everything…" | |
| − | + | At this hour, the Fyros hoped to be mistaken. And if, having discussed it with his three friends, they were all much less worried than he was, he had not managed to reassure himself. Especially since he still felt responsible for Garius' death, even though he had been tried many times to persuade him otherwise… | |
| − | + | During these four years, it was also likely that Melkiar and Varran had changed a lot. Especially Melkiar, whose father had been killed before his eyes, on the battlefield. This strengthened the bond between him and Varran a little more. Becoming chief of the Dragon's Tears tribe, Melkiar succeeded in going even further than his father, Tigriron, and perpetuated the coalition formed by the latter at the time of the war against the Dune Riders. Signing a peace treaty, the tribes of the former coalition placed themselves definitively under the protection of the Dragon Tears. But this historic event was only the beginning of a great series of political victories. So, just a few months ago, Melkiar finally succeeded in bringing all the tribes of the Western Desert under his leadership. An unthinkable feat, reminiscent of the unifying military campaign that Dyros the Great, the first emperor of the Fyros people, had led more than two hundred years earlier. But unlike Dyros, he had not had to resort to arms. His bravery, charisma and great intelligence seemed to have been enough. At this thought, Belenor smiled inwardly, and remembered the speech he had given on the day they met, already eighteen years ago: | |
| − | + | :"When I grow up, I plan to bring all the tribes to the west of the Desert, where I was born. Life there is much harder than here. No regular army, no aqueduct… I would like to found a great city there, equal to Fyre. Of course, waging war on the rebellious tribes to force their cooperation might be enough. But that's does'nt fit my values. I promise myself to do it my way: to prove my bravery, to perform feats, to gain their trust." | |
| − | + | Today, Melkiar's dream was within reach. For if the one who was nicknamed The Prodigy had travelled to Fyre, it was precisely to meet Emperor Cerakos II, who had succeeded his father Krospas, who had died two years earlier during a traditional varinx hunt. To discuss with him his desire to found a city that would adequately accommodate the tribes he was now federating. A city that, built around Fort Kronk, would become the great imperial city of the far western desert. Belenor understood why Xynala, Tisse and himself had fallen in love with Melkiar. His ability to gather widely around him, and to move forward - ever further - was fascinating. | |
| − | + | :''"Enor, you're listening to me?"'' exclaimed Brandille, her nose still pinched. | |
| − | + | Not observing a response, the acrobat leaped in front of his dreamer friend then continued in his nasal voice. | |
| − | + | :''"You think too much, I can see it in your eyes. In those moments, it's like time expands. Like you pause the conversations, and take the time to write your thoughts in between everyone's lines. Why use the third person, anyway? Anyway, let's move on… I'll repeat myself, Enor: no, these four years of separation are not enough to put your friendship in question. Yes, Melkiar's life has changed a lot: he now has many more responsibilities than once. But you remain his friend, Enor. Not to mention the fact that he tied his fate to yours that day. Remember? You're the one who'll tell his story. That's what he says at the end of his speech. At the end of the first chapter of your adventures." | |
| − | + | Stopped short, both by the leap and the monologue, Belenor glared at Brandille. | |
| − | + | :''"Brandille, I hate it when you do that…" | |
| − | + | :''"When I do what, Enor?" | |
| − | + | :''"When you read my mind, Brandille." | |
| − | + | :''"I don't read your mind, I've told you that. I'm not a Kami." | |
| − | + | :''"Yet you…" | |
| − | + | :''"You're just a real open book, Enor. And I know you like I wrote you!" | |
| − | + | The Fyros sighed, Brandille clowned with her pinched nose, then both followed Xynala and Tisse through the alleys, toward Dyros Avenue. Built in the widest crack of the fissure that hosted Fyre, this busy thoroughfare connected the Imperial Palace directly to the city wall that closed the city to the south. As expected, the avenue was particularly crowded on this market day. Arriving at the top of that avenue, the four comrades were only a ten-minute walk from the Palace, of which they could already contemplate the immense central tower from which the Emperor used to speak to his people. A ten-minute walk from Melkiar and Varran, therefore, whom they would certainly find in front of the Palace, on Hempios Square. And if Xynala, Tisse and Brandille seemed to be in a hurry to get there, Belenor slowed down the pace, progressively, until he stopped completely. Now with his back to his friends, the Fyros looked down the avenue, towards the south, frowning. | |
| − | + | :''"No need to delay the inevitable Enor."'' Brandille joked, turning around. | |
| − | + | :''"No, Brandille, it's not that. The smell you were talking about, I think I smell it." | |
| − | + | And as a singular air dawned Brandille's face, the nozzles of kün-trazen, the great belfry at the top of which the warning horn was fixed, resounded throughout Fyre. Instantly, a deadly silence invaded Dyros Avenue. With a lump in her throat and a tight heart, Belenor quickly sought out the eyes of Xynala and Tisse, hoping to find some answers. The annual invasion simulation exercise had taken place only a few months earlier, and both were officers. So surely they must have known why kün-trazen had just started his sinister song. Unfortunately, he found no answer in the eyes of the Fyrossas. Simply a mixture of incomprehension and fear. But the worst sound was yet to come. The same one that rose almost immediately from the Southern Gates, and whose memory would pursue the hominity forever: the ghastly hum of decline. Soon, the first cries rang out at the bottom of the avenue, as the hum and the acrid smell intensified. And then Belenor saw them in the backlight: the strange winged creatures whose silhouette would be so familiar to them in the future. It took Xynala no less than that to regain her composure and unhook the bullhorn from her belt. | |
| − | + | :''"General alert! Let the reservists head for the nearest barracks! As for the others, take refuge in the shelters and escape tunnels! Follow the procedure!" | |
| − | + | And at the same time, as the first flying beings sped over the main artery, Belenor's lungs burst into flames. An aggressive toxic veil had just poisoned the atmosphere. Like many of the bystanders around him, he fell to his knees. Some even vomited or lost consciousness. With a grimace on his face and squinting eyes, the Fyros watched helplessly as the avenue was swept by a wind of panic. In the distance, one could even make out startings of a fire. But what was going on? Except for the attempts of some tribes, at the dawn of the imperial era, Fyre had never been attacked. And even less invaded. So, what were these strange winged creatures, much larger than the largest birds ever recorded? Undoubtedly the evil creations of the Matis, to whom the Karavan had long ago revealed the secrets of genetic manipulation. After all, although at peace with the Fyros since the Treaty of Karavia, signed in 2436, the Kingdom of Matia remained the ancestral enemy of the Fyros Empire… As if to indicate to Belenor that this was not the time for history lessons, an onlooker accidentally hit him and made him fall on his side. | |
| − | + | "Enor, up!" hissed Brandille, helping him to his feet before the mass of crazed citizens trampled him. | |
| − | + | For around the little group, panicked Fyros were rushing at full speed toward the Imperial Palace – the most fortified place in the capital – creating dangerous crowd movements as they went. They seemed to be fleeing from the southern part of the avenue, obscured by the thick black smoke produced by the fire-fighting systems, and where for a few seconds already, the distant screams had given way to terrible howls. | |
| − | + | :''"Don't panic! Stay orderly! Follow the procedure!"'' shouted Xynala to the terrorized crowd. | |
| + | :''"Tisse, up there!"'' she suddenly exclaimed, raising one of her clubs. | ||
| + | ▼ TO TRANSLATE ▼ | ||
— Je sais, je l’ai vu, répondit calmement la rouquine. » | — Je sais, je l’ai vu, répondit calmement la rouquine. » | ||
