“
After being dropped to the ground by the gigantic black bird a few dozen kilometres south of Zu-Galam, Pü's first impulse was to return there. As much to kill the blue-orange kitin as to challenge the authority of the Black Kami. However, he didn't need to hear the Voice to understand the absurdity of his desire. The divine creature was keeping an eye on him, wherever he happened to be. If she had decided that reaching Zu-Galam was too dangerous, then he had to accept it. Having spent three years following its teachings, Pu knew that it was not an entity open to dialogue. Until now, she had only been able to issue directives via the Voice or answer very specific questions. Attempting to return to Zu-Galam would have meant condemning himself to an endless repetition of his failure and would have underlined still more his servitude. Once again on his own, he undertook to travel south-east towards Taï-Toon, the last major urban area of the country that he had not visited. The expedition gave him the opportunity to apologise to the Voice, whom he had unjustly blamed for his abduction by the black bird. He also recognised that attempting to fight the army of kitins alone or to infiltrate Zu-Galam was an extremely risky operation, which would probably have proved fatal. To get to Taï-Toon, Pü followed the route of the Great Wall which separated the Lake of Temples from the Purple Marshes, and which played an essential role in this area against the advance of the Goo emanating from the southern jungles, which were still largely unexplored.The Goo was a mysterious substance, often perceived as pollution or disease, which manifested itself as a mauve substance, gelatinous, shiny and translucent. Its incessant growth and its ability to infect and destroy all forms of organic matter led some scholars to consider it a living entity with an insatiable appetite. As guardians of nature, the Kamis saw the Goo as a terrible curse. All the more so because, of all the creatures of Atys, they were the most vulnerable to its harmful effects. As a result, they relied heavily on the help of homins to limit its spread. Some historians have argued that the Kamis' preference for the Zorais, illustrated by their masks, can be explained by the origin of these people, who were born in the jungles of Atys, thus on the front line in facing the plague. In contrast, the Karavan agents and their followers Matis, known for their expertise in alchemy and poisons, were taking a close interest in this enigmatic material for its potentially exploitable properties… particularly against the Kamis. At least, that's what Pü's mother had taught him. During his childhood, his father was relentlessly hunting down Karavan agents operating in the Purple Marshes. He only gave up this dangerous quest when his wife, after he had had a brush with death during one of these hunts, convinced him of the unnecessary risks it involved. It would have been tragic to lose his life before passing the torch to his sons and before the opening of the Sacred War, event that would mark the ineluctable twilight of the Karavan.
While walking along the southern shore of Temples Lake, Pü realised that a few groups of survivors had settled on the islands scattered across the vast stretch of water. The kitins, and especially the famous patrols of green and white insects with spiked abdomens, were poor swimmers and posed no direct threat to the islanders, who only had to contend with the attacks of the fire-breathing dragonflies, which were already perilous enough. However, Pü knew that the apparent safety was deceptive. He had already seen flying kitins transporting walking kitins to places otherwise inaccessible to the latter, and therefore knew that, without adequate precautions, the islands could easily be overrun. Such was the message he tried to convey after finding a boat to the islands closest to the shore. The islanders told him that kitin incursions were rare and that his presence was not welcome, refusing any further discussion. However, against all expectations, one survivor was more open and, after a brief discussion, advised Pü not to go to Taï-Toon: she claimed that a powerful sorcerer from a neighbouring island had threatened anyone who might attempt to venture there. However, like the other survivors, Pü's presence was worrying her: his black mask was invariably seen, at best, as an ominous sign.
Despite the disappointment of yet another refusal, which further undermined his aspiration to become a saviour, Pü had to admit that this part of Zoraï country did indeed seem less infested with kitins than the other regions he had crossed. As he returned to the shore, then climbed the Great Wall for a closer look at the southern jungles, now turned into shapeless swamps by the Goo that was voraciously decomposing the flora and fauna, he realised why: the kitins themselves must have feared the destructive substance. He was also surprised to note that, three years after the fall of the Theocracy and Zorai civilisation, the wall was still acting as a magnetic barrier, preventing the Goo from advancing further north. But he knew that this was only provisional. Sooner or later, the ambers used as repellents would lose their electrostatic properties. Unless they could be replaced, this would condemn what was once the beating heart of Zoraï country to an inevitable contamination by the Goo. The only recourse then would be to use fire to try and halt its progress. And not a magical fire produced by a homin, whose burning capacity would have been finely controlled, but the wild and devastating fire, the result of a chain reaction of uncontrollable fires, capable of reaching unimaginable temperatures.
Thanks to the reduced kitin presence at the edge of the Purple Marshes, Pü eventually reached Taï-Toon more quickly than he had needed time to reach Zu-Galam from the Eternal Garden. In daylight, this city, which he had already approached in his youth, appeared to him to be a reduced version of Zoran: it stood at the centre of a circular enclosure, built along a stretch of water, and was structured around a main building. At Zoran, built on the shores of the Lake of Temples, it was the Zo'laï-gong, the most important Kamist temple in the country, that reigned over the heart of the city. In Taï-Toon, built on the shores of the Lake of Knowledge, the Zo'sok-gong, which housed the Great Zoraï Library, held this central position. Originally located in Zoran, the library had been transferred to Taï-Toon after the siege and bombardment of the Fyros armies in 2328 had destroyed this reservoir of knowledge.
Having not forgotten the warning from the island's Zoraï, Pü discreetly entered Taï-Toon. If he truly did exist, the ‘powerful sorcerer’ she had told him about might be dangerous. Like Zoran, the city had been the target of Karavan bombardments three years earlier, in order to eliminate the swarm of kitins. The damages were clearly visible: ancient carcass remains littered the craters scattered around the perimeter and breaches teared the city's circular wall. In the centre of the city, the Zo'sok-gong, smaller than Zoran's Zo'lai-Gong but similar in its square-based pyramidal structure, was also partly destroyed. Once inside the enclosure, Pü noticed a Zorai on guard duty, nonchalantly leaning against the railing of a tower that was still untouched. The guard wasn't paying much attention, given the ease with which Pü had escaped his vigilance. As he did not wish to create a diplomatic incident, Pü climbed the tower ladder to introduce himself to him. Finally noticing his presence, the guard, more surprised than anything else, unsheathed a sword.
- "Who the heck are you? You've no business here! Taï-Toon is off-limits!"
- "I don't come to you as an enemy, Pü replied calmly, raising his hands as a sign of peace. I've just heard that a mighty sorcerer has forbidden entry to Taï-Toon. Do you know him? I'd like to meet him."
- "That's impossible! Leave immediately! threatened the homin, taking a step forward and raising his weapon."
Pü sighed and examined him for a few moments. Athletic body, good grip on the sword, but an arm that was barely bubbling with Sap, not enough to significantly increase the strength of its blows. Clearly, this was not the sorcerer he had been told about, even if his reaction confirmed the existence of such a one. He was undoubtedly a simple soldier in his service, probably a survivor from the regular guard of the Theocracy or of some tribe. His obvious lack of mastery in the art of manipulating Sap made him little of a menace.
- "I do not wish to harm anyone. Neither him nor you, said Pü, calmly moving forward, his hands still raised. Just tell me where he can be found."
Pü's stance and the confidence it exuded made the Zorai back off, and he glanced furtively towards the centre of the city, unwittingly betraying his master's location. Realising his mistake, he let out an insult before pouncing on the intruder. Pü easily dodged the desperate attack and, in one fluid movement, delivered a precise uppercut against his chin. While a first-rank soldier would have succeed to use the powers of the Sap to absorb the blow, the novice guard collapsed instantly to the ground. Without missing a beat, Pü quickly bound and gagged him. Given the blow he had just received, the guard would need some time to regain consciousness and, even if he managed to wake up quickly, it would still require some time for him to free himself. This gave Pü plenty of time to infiltrate the pyramid without triggering the general alarm. As he was about to climb down the tower, however, something caught his eye. The guard's sword. Very well-crafted indeed, it would be a perfect replacement for his own, lost a few weeks earlier when he was abducted by the black bird. Without hesitation, he grabbed it before discreetly slipping away.
Pü had no trouble infiltrating the Zo'sok-gong, easily avoiding or quietly knocking out the few guards he came across. Although he initially found it difficult to find his way through the pyramid's maze of dark, narrow corridors, he nevertheless enjoyed getting lost in this labyrinth, which at times reminded him of the interlacing hollow roots of the family stump. Once inside the immense library, Pü proceeded cautiously along the vast aisles, carefully observing the signs of a recent homin presence. Some of the shelves had been emptied of their contents, suggesting some theft. In places, the floor was strewn with amber cubes and scattered parchments, while several shelves had been knocked over, contributing to the chaotic appearance of the place. The intact ceiling and walls indicated that this damage was not the result of Karavan bombardments, but rather the product of battle scenes or vandalism. Along the way, Pu came across the desiccated carapaces of small kitins and the emaciated skeletons of a few Zoraïs, silent witnesses to the violent events that had once shaken this place.
When he finally arrived in front of the most private section of the library, where in the past only the most eminent sages of the Theocracy were admitted, Pü heard a voice. He discreetly entered the room, which was barely lit by a few firefly lanterns, and then hid behind a shelf. Observing the scene, he had to use his new senses to realise that what he was watching was not an imposing animal, unrecognisable in the half-light, but indeed a Zoraï. While Pü was around two metres tall, a relatively common height for Zoraïs born male, the homin he was observing must have been around two metres thirty, an abnormal height. Or rather two metres fifty. He was actually hunchbacked and struggled to stand perfectly upright. His height was simply inordinate. And yet that was the least strange thing about his massive, irregularly swollen and bloated body. Only his perfectly white, hornless mask offered a touch of harmony to his otherwise misshapen appearance.
- "Load these ones."
The voice came not from the hunchback, but from a crouching Zorai who, straightening up, grabbed one of the amber cubes piled up at his feet. Standing at around two metres ten and dressed in a beautiful, albeit worn, violet robe, the hominin revealed arms that were surprisingly slim, nay scrawny. However, what really caught Pü's attention was his mask. Perfectly symmetrical and adorned with green ideograms, it was crowned by a series of long horns rising from the temples to the forehead, giving the whole an almost regal allure. This imposing mask, which seemed almost out of proportion to the thinness of its wearer, reminded Pü of Grandmother Bä-Bä, even though the individual was only in his thirties. While it was generally assumed that the mask revealed the wearer's soul and intimate link with the Kamis, some also believed that its size could indicate its potential. Pü looked at his own mask, which was larger than average, and then realised that he had found the famous sorcerer he was looking for. The latter was staring silently at the amber cube he was holding with both hands, while the giant was busy loading the other cubes from the designated pile into a large cart that was already half-full. Suddenly, the Zorai's mask swivelled towards the shelf behind which Pü was hidden. It raised its free hand towards him. A threatening hand.
- "I see you, thief. Come out."
At these words, Pü instantly realised that the sorcerer had not spotted him visually, but through the same sense that allowed him to perceive the network of Sap that irrigated Atys. The island's Zoraï had definitely not lied: this individual was definitely powerful. Undaunted, the Zorai emerged from his hiding place and stepped forward, scouring the shadows until the light of the lanterns fully illuminated his mask. The sorcerer let out a small giggle at the sight.
- "Oh, but you're not a thief! Or rather, not just any thief. Sang Fu-Tao the Black Mask, first among the Black Warriors of Ma-Duk, father of the prophetic Sacred Warrior. Your survival does not surprise me. I must say…"
Surprised, Pü let the sorcerer speak, while the hunchback, indifferent to his presence, busied himself collecting the amber cubes his master had pointed out to him. Like Zunak, the antekami leader he had met in Zoran three years ago, this Zorai also knew his family. Was he, like the Antekami, an ancient adversary of his father?
- "… for at the end of the world, only the Provided and the Appointed remain.
- "I'm not Sang. I'm his son, replied Pü, once the sorcerer had completed his monologue.
- "His eldest? So the prophecy has come true. The Sacred Warrior is on the march. It's true that your constitution is… singular." he said, scrutinising Pü from mask to toe.
Pü didn't have the heart to tell him that, as Zunak had done before him, the sorcerer mistook him for Niï. He preferred to concentrate on his tone and attitude, wondering whether there was any mocking intent behind his words. Not being very good at detecting innuendo, he couldn't say for sure. What he was sure of, however, was that this individual liked to listen to himself talking. In the absence of any response from Pü, he continued.
- "If you survived, I hope the same is true of your mother and Bä-Bä."
While it was possible this individual had been making fun of him until now, that was not the case this time. Pü could read the sincerity in his eyes and hear the concern in his voice. More eager than ever to discover his identity, Pü decided to open up to him and took a few steps forward.
- "Unfortunately, that's not the case. Grandma Bä-Bä and my mother are dead, as is every member of my tribe. We managed to repel the first wave of kitins in a fierce battle, but the second was fatal. By a sad twist of fate, I'm the only survivor. Tell me, who are you? You seem to know my tribe well.
- "Oh, I'm sorry for your loss. I do indeed know your tribe and its customs, as I know all tribes which once populated the jungle, to tell the truth. I'm very interested in such things. I met your mother on several occasions in Zoran, when she represented your tribe as a diplomat. As for the honourable Bä-Bä, I met her, always in the company of your mother, at exceptional councils aimed at understanding and defeating Goo, bringing together all the country's scholars, including the most marginal."
The sorcerer's eyes, which had been staring at him until then, turned towards the amber cube he still held in his hand. Pü didn't know if he had deliberately omitted to reveal his identity, or if he was absorbed in his thoughts. What was certain, however, was that these were tinged with dark resentment, as the long diatribe he launched into soon showed.
- "‘At least you can take comfort in knowing that your tribe left with courage and honour, unlike Zoran's sages and bureaucrats, who trampled on their people in order to secure their place in the Karavan transporters. I hope they were chased as they fled, and that their vehicles crashed in the dark, unexplored areas bordering Atys! As for the Kamis, after spending almost three centuries telling us that we were their chosen people, none of them showed up when we really needed them, leaving the Karavan, whom they taught us to hate so much, to save the most cowardly and privileged among us…"
While the sorcerer continued to express his resentment, his hands pressed the cube with increasing intensity. Pü understood this rancour. He too had felt a deep bitterness, not towards the Theocracy, which his upbringing had conditioned him never to esteem, but towards the Kamis, despite the explanations the Black Kami had given him about their inertia during the invasion. Waiting for his interlocutor to finish his new monologue, so that he could ask him his identity again, Pü stared at the cube in silence. He wondered if the sorcerer's fingernails, which seemed to be digging into the amber, could alter the ideograms inscribed. Squinting reflexively, he managed to decipher what was inscribed, despite the gloom: “Treatise on the mutagenic powers of the Goo. By Fung-Tun”. Pü, who understood instantly that the amber cube contained dangerous knowledge, remembered that he was in the most private section of the library. And as Pü glanced at the cube on top of the stack carried by the hunchback, trying to get an idea of its contents, the sorcerer suddenly interrupted his diatribe and took three steps backwards.
- "He... He's with you?"
It took Pü a good five seconds to grasp what the sorcerer was referring to. When he turned round, he was startled to discover the Black Kami levitating behind his shoulder.
- "Yes, he's with me," Pü replied thoughtlessly.
It was the first time he was seeing the Black Kami since the incident at Zu-Galam, and that filled his mind with confused thoughts. He was still furious at him.
!!! WIP !!!
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Последнее редактирование было из Nilstilar на 29.10.2024« C’est… C’est comme s’il était sorti de vous ! C’est pour cela, ce flux dense de Sève en vous ? Qui êtes-vous réellement et que voulez-vous ? Vous êtes venu me le reprendre, c’est cela ? Jamais je vous laisserai faire ! Il est à moi ! hurla le sorcier en reculant de quelques pas supplémentaires.
– Non non, je ne suis pas venu vous voler, ni vous faire du mal, je souhaite simplement discuter ! »
Comme pour le contredire, le Kami leva l’une de ses petites mains et dirigea une griffe étincelante en direction du sorcier. À la vue de ses yeux blancs, chargés d’une terrifiante colère, le corps de Pü se figea. Depuis le jour où il avait libéré le Kami des Antékamis, et que celui-ci avait massacré ses ravisseurs, il ne l’avait jamais revu dans un tel état. Connaissait-il ce Zoraï ? Pourquoi lui voulait-il du mal ? Mais l’heure n’était aux questionnements. Pü sentit les particules spirituelles qui composaient son être entrer en résonance avec celles de la créature divine. Autour de lui, la pièce tout entière s’était mise à vibrer. Toujours perturbé par son apparition soudaine, il réagit en retard par rapport au sorcier, qui, après un moment de frayeur, s’était ressaisi avec une détermination farouche.
« Xe-Qe, attrape-le vivant ! »
Répondant aux ordres, le bossu bondit sur Pü avec une agilité surprenante pour un être de sa taille. En parallèle, le sorcier lâcha le cube d’ambre et, sans utiliser de gants amplificateurs, incanta un éclair d’une puissance phénoménale qui fusa vers le Kami, venant s’écraser contre sa griffe juste au moment où une décharge lumineuse en jaillissait. À la force de l’impact, et en voyant le sorcier ne pas flancher, Pü comprit que ce dernier évoluait dans une catégorie autrement supérieure à la sienne en tant que praticien de magie. Il était manifestement aussi expérimenté que l'avait été sa mère, bien qu’ayant plutôt l’âge qu'aurait dû atteindre son frère. Déséquilibré par la vague d’énergie, Pü ne parvint pas à esquiver totalement l'assaut du géant, qui réussit à saisir son bras avec sa main la plus protubérante. La pression de la prise confirma que la force brute du bossu était tout aussi exceptionnelle que sa taille, et Pü réalisa qu'il ne réussirait pas à en desserrer l’étreinte. Voyant que, après avoir réussi à l’attraper comme l’avait demandé son maître, son adversaire restait immobile, Pü dégaina de sa main libre l’épée volée au garde et lacéra le bras du géant. Mais, apparemment insensible à la douleur, celui-ci ne réagit pas et ne lâcha pas prise. Pendant ce temps, le sorcier maintenait son éclair face au Kami, qui contenait son assaut du bout de sa griffe. Malgré le pouvoir déployé, la créature divine, dont les yeux étaient toujours chargés de colère, paraissait à peine affectée. Elle commença à léviter lentement vers sa cible, implacable malgré la puissance de l’éclair. Craignant pour la vie du sorcier et bien qu'il n’ait initialement voulu blesser personne, Pü hésita à peine avant de trancher l’avant bras du géant, se promettant de le soigner une fois la crise apaisée. Lorsque l’énorme membre tomba au sol, son propriétaire réagit à peine et tenta d’attraper Pü avec son moignon. Mais le Zoraï s’était déjà précipité vers le Kami, bien déterminé à l’arrêter. Se rappelant qu'au moment de son enlèvement par l’oiseau noir, guidé par la colère, il s'était senti capable de pénétrer l’esprit son esprit et de le contrôler en aggripant son serre, il posa sa main sur sa fourrure.
« Cessez immédiatement ! Je vous l'ordonne ! »
Pü sentit le Kami vaciller, mais contrairement à la dernière fois, aucune chaleur intense ne le repoussa. La créature divine dévia l’éclair du sorcier d’un geste brusque, projetant ce dernier en arrière, et l’arc électrique alla trancher en deux une bibliothèque. Puis elle flotta jusqu’au sol. Elle flotta jusqu’au sol et s’y enfonça, lentement, comme si celui-ci n’avait aucune consistance, jusqu’à finalement disparaître. Pü se précipita vers le sorcier pour l’aider à se relever, mais celui-ci fut plus rapide et, toujours méfiant, brandit ses mains, probablement prêt à incanter un autre éclair.
« Je suis désolé, je ne sais pas ce qui lui a pris, dit Pü en levant les mains pour apaiser la situation. J’ai croisé d’autres homins ces dernières semaines, et c’est la première fois qu’il réagit ainsi. Il ne s’était d’ailleurs jamais montré à quiconque d’autre que moi avant aujourd’hui. Peut-être a-t-il pensé que ma vie était vraiment en danger. Ou alors… »
Pu s'accroupit et ramassa le cube d’ambre que le sorcier tenait encore quelques instants plus tôt.
« Peut-être ne vous visait-il pas vous, mais ceci. Ce savoir est dangereux et abhorré par les Kamis… Après tout, il est apparu au moment où j’ai lu ce qui y était inscrit. Peut-être voit-il à travers mes yeux.
– Il… Il voit à travers vos yeux ? protesta le sorcier. Mais par Jena, qui êtes vous réellement ! Vous avez commandé ce Kami et vous parlez de lui comme s’il n’était qu’un simple animal de protection.
– Je vous ai déjà dit qui j’étais. Moi en revanche, je ne sais toujours pas qui vous êtes. »
Décidant à nouveau de ne pas répondre, le sorcier abaissa ses mains et appela le dénommé Xe-Qe. L’imposant Zoraï s’avança, tenant son membre tranché dans sa main valide, et c’est avec une dextérité magique redoutable que son maître le greffa à son moignon. Toujours mutique, le bossu fit bouger ses doigts et observa sa main comme s’il la découvrait pour la première fois.
« Avant de vous répondre, je dois m’assurer que vous n’êtes pas ici pour me voler. Pourquoi avoir fait l’effort d’éliminer tous mes gardes pour vous introduire dans cette bibliothèque ? demanda-t-il finalement.
– Je n’ai tué personne. J’en ai simplement assommé quelques-uns. Et à nouveau, je n’ai aucune intention de vous voler. J’ai entamé un voyage il y a quelques semaines, avec pour objectif de rassembler les survivants d’Atys et de leur offrir ma protection. On m’a récemment informé qu’un puissant sorcier avait interdit l’accès à Taï-Toon. Je voulais simplement voir qui avait pris le contrôle de cette cité, comme les Antékamis l’ont fait avec Zoran.
– Ne me comparez pas à ces sauvages, cracha le sorcier en tendant la main vers Pü pour qu’il lui rende le cube d’ambre. J’ai ordonné à mes gardes de surveiller les entrées précisément pour empêcher que la cité, et surtout cette bibliothèque, ne soient mises à sac par des individus incultes ou dangereux. Ce savoir ne doit pas atterrir dans n’importe quelles mains.
– Et qu’est-ce qui vous rend plus apte que n’importe qui d’autre à manipuler ce savoir ? répliqua Pü en reculant sa main. Je ne sais toujours pas qui vous êtes.
Le sorcier fixa Pü avec une intensité palpable, comme s'il pesait soigneusement sa réponse, scrutant chaque détail de son masque. Le silence s'installa, lourd de sens, avant qu'il ne prenne enfin la parole, d'une voix grave et mesurée. Quatre mots seulement furent prononcés, comme si cela devait tout clarifier.
« Je suis Marung Horongi. »
Et effectivement, cela suffisait à expliquer beaucoup de choses. Parmi la poignée de magiciens contemporains célèbres dont Pü avait entendu parler par sa mère, et qu’il avait envisagé comme pouvant être le fameux sorcier, Marung Horongi se distinguait. Disciple le plus prometteur du Grand Sage Min-Cho, il était vu par certains comme le plus digne de ceux qui pourrait lui succéder et diriger la Théocratie à sa mort, bien que la tradition favorisât Hoi-Cho, le descendant de Min-Cho. L’histoire racontait aussi que Marung Horongi avait reçu son masque de parenté dès l'âge de six ans, un exploit hors du commun. Pü, dont le masque n’avait poussé qu’à dix ans — âge déjà considéré comme exceptionnel — avait eu du mal à y croire la première fois que sa mère le lui avait raconté. Quelques secondes passèrent avant qu’il ne lui tende enfin le cube d’ambre.
« Je ne suis pas vraiment étonné, j’ai entendu parler de vous. Et je pense malgré tout que vous devriez vous méfier de ce savoir dangereux.
– Ce savoir dangereux, comme vous l’appelez, est en de bonnes mains, répondit le sorcier en s’emparant rapidement du cube d’ambre, comme s’il craignait que Pü ne change d’avis. Il est en de bonnes mains parce que je comprends son pouvoir et ses implications.
– Vous ne seriez pas le premier à dire cela et à… »
La conversation fut brusquement interrompue par une petite voix tremblante provenant d’une pièce voisine. Pü se retourna et aperçut un Zoraï d’à peine cinq ans émerger de la pénombre, avançant d’un pas rapide, trahissant la peur qui l’habitait. Instinctivement, Marung tendit les bras en direction de Pü, prêt à agir au moindre signe de menace.
« Ma … Marung ? Ça va ? Il y a eu du bruit… »
En apercevant Pü, l’enfant s’arrêta net, ses yeux rivés sur le grand masque noir. Pu perçut immédiatement la peur sur le visage de l’enfant. Un visage encore dénué de masque. À cet instant, il était impossible de dire lequel des deux était le plus troublé par l’autre. Pü n’avait pas vu d’enfant depuis plusieurs années, et le visage innocent du petit, empreint d’une douceur qu’il avait presque oubliée, le bouleversa. Ses grands yeux noirs, emplis de crainte, surmontaient un nez légèrement retroussé et des joues rondes qui trahissaient encore toute la fragilité de l’enfance. Instantanément, Pü fut submergé par une émotion vive et sentit les larmes lui monter aux yeux. Ce visage nu, pur et vulnérable, contrastait cruellement avec l’horreur qui régnait sur Atys depuis l’invasion des kitins. C’était comme un fragment d’un autre temps, une vision d’une vie révolue. Une vie où les enfants chassaient les lucioles et se balançaient de liane en liane dans la souche familiale, tout comme il l’avait lui-même fait, avant que ses jeux ne cèdent la place à d'interminables entraînements martiaux. Une vie sans la douleur d'avoir dû recueillir les graines de vie des vingt-sept enfants de sa tribu, massacrés par les kitins, pour accomplir le rite funéraire qu'il s’était forcé à organiser, seul. Désespérément seul. Pü baissa la tête et fit glisser ses doigts le long des fentes oculaires de son masque.
« Tout va bien, ne t’inquiète pas, dit Marung en faisant signe à l’enfant de le rejoindre, voyant qu’aucun Kami n’avait surgit des ténèbres. Ce n’était rien, juste un malentendu. »
Le sorcier se baissa et serra le jeune Zoraï contre lui, lui offrant une protection réconfortante qui contrastait avec l’image que Pü s’était faite de lui.
« Qui est-ce ? demanda le garçon en pointant du doigt Pü, la curiosité surpassant peu à peu son angoisse.
– Juste un visiteur. C’est un Appelé, tout comme nous deux. Tu te souviens de ce que je t’ai expliqué sur les Fortunés et les Appelés ?
– Oui. Dans le nouveau monde, il y a deux sortes de gens. Ceux qui ont de la chance, et ceux qui doivent faire de grandes choses. »
Marung acquiesça en silence et se redressa. Saisissant l’émoi de Pü, il préféra ne pas le relancer et ordonna à Xe-Qe de reprendre son travail de chargement. L’enfant, figé, continuait de fixer le masque de Pü sans bouger.
« Je m’appelle Pü, finit par dire ce dernier une fois remis de ses émotions. Et toi, comment t’appelles-tu ?
– Nung Horongi. Je suis le frère de Marung. »
Troublé par la différence d’âge apparente, Pü jeta un coup d'œil interrogateur vers le sorcier, qui saisit la question silencieuse.
« Nous ne partageons pas le même sang. Je l’ai adopté il y a trois ans, dit-il en posant une main sur l’épaule de l’enfant, la serrant juste assez pour que le geste, censé être protecteur, prenne un tour possessif, presque oppressant. Lorsque je l’ai trouvé, il flottait dans les airs au-dessus de son village, que les Kitins avaient réduit en cendres. Fabuleux, non ? C’est pour lui que je craignais que vous ou votre Kami soyez venus ici. Nung est mon trésor, n’est-ce pas, Nung ? »
À ces mots, un sourire radieux illumina le visage de l’enfant, frappant Pü en plein cœur et ravivant en lui une émotion qu’il venait tout juste de réussir à contenir.
« Oui ! Je suis le trésor de Marung ! »
“Trésor”. C’était ainsi que sa mère l’appelait lorsqu’il était enfant. Pü, qui ne s’était jamais imaginé en tant que grand frère, et encore moins en tant que père, se surprit pour la première fois à s’imaginer responsable d’un enfant. Et cette idée fit germer un espoir dans son cœur. Oui, c’était cela qu’il voulait. Non pas spécifiquement devenir père, mais dédier sa vie à la protection d’êtres innocents, loin de l’obscurité et des fêlures qui le hantaient. Pour échapper à la douleur des pertes passées, aux souvenirs des atrocités qu’il avait dû commettre enfant sous l’emprise des traditions, et à celles qu’il semblait être destiné à perpétrer. Pour s’effacer et trouver un nouveau sens à sa vie.
Lui aussi voulait avoir un trésor à protéger.
— Bélénor Nébius, narrator
