Внутреннее тестирование Вики/E-IX — различия между версиями
Материал из ЭнциклопАтис
Lanstiril (обсуждение | вклад) м |
Lanstiril (обсуждение | вклад) м |
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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. | 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. | ||
| − | When the fateful moment of the tattoo arrived, Pü was almost relieved. He knew that the ordeal would be painful, perhaps even more so than the growing of the mask. Perhaps enough, therefore, to make him forget, forever (or at least for a few moments) this terrible night. If only… He looked at his mask, still so white, in the reflection of a basin of water. Holding the tebori with his left hand and holding his chin with the one mutilated seven years earlier by the Matis general Sirgio di Rolo, he applied the tip of the tool, previously soaked in charcoal ink, against his thumb. The object consisted of a thin taleng rod to which a row of thin amber needles was attached. Pü carefully wedged the point between his thumb and chin. He was ready. He took a deep breath, and with a precise gesture, executed a sharp movement to perforate the cartilage. A powerful flash of pain crossed his spine. Removing the tool, he leaned over the basin: a new little black pigment now adorned the bottom of his mask. He still had so much to tattoo. So much to suffer. So much to forget. To suffer to forget. Yes, he wanted to. Just for that, he was ready to become Black Mask. Intoxicated with pain, Pü covered his entire mask in only a few hours, without ever stopping. He was thrown back into the twilight abyss that had revealed itself to him during the ceremony of his mask's growth, more than seven years before. The same bubbling void. The same liturgical chants of his ancestors. That same | + | When the fateful moment of the tattoo arrived, Pü was almost relieved. He knew that the ordeal would be painful, perhaps even more so than the growing of the mask. Perhaps enough, therefore, to make him forget, forever (or at least for a few moments) this terrible night. If only… He looked at his mask, still so white, in the reflection of a basin of water. Holding the tebori with his left hand and holding his chin with the one mutilated seven years earlier by the Matis general Sirgio di Rolo, he applied the tip of the tool, previously soaked in charcoal ink, against his thumb. The object consisted of a thin taleng rod to which a row of thin amber needles was attached. Pü carefully wedged the point between his thumb and chin. He was ready. He took a deep breath, and with a precise gesture, executed a sharp movement to perforate the cartilage. A powerful flash of pain crossed his spine. Removing the tool, he leaned over the basin: a new little black pigment now adorned the bottom of his mask. He still had so much to tattoo. So much to suffer. So much to forget. To suffer to forget. Yes, he wanted to. Just for that, he was ready to become Black Mask. Intoxicated with pain, Pü covered his entire mask in only a few hours, without ever stopping. He was thrown back into the twilight abyss that had revealed itself to him during the ceremony of his mask's growth, more than seven years before. The same bubbling void. The same liturgical chants of his ancestors. That same Black Kami, who was taking him to the depths of the world. That same sparkling heart, located at the center of Atys, which was irrigating with a primordial energy every chip of wood and piece of flesh that was within its reach. Ma-Duk, the unspeakable. |
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. | 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. | ||
