Внутреннее тестирование Вики/E-X — различия между версиями
Материал из ЭнциклопАтис
Lanstiril (обсуждение | вклад) м |
Lanstiril (обсуждение | вклад) м |
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| Строка 13: | Строка 13: | ||
<center><span style="color:purple;font-weight:bold"><big><big>'''Jena Year 2464'''</big></big></span></center> | <center><span style="color:purple;font-weight:bold"><big><big>'''Jena Year 2464'''</big></big></span></center> | ||
| − | {{Quotation|''Belenor Nebius, narrator''|:''" | + | {{Quotation|''Belenor Nebius, narrator''|:''"Um… One more death. A rockslide, once again." |
Sitting comfortably in his rendor leather chair, elbows resting on his gorgeous solid wood desk, Tiralion Nebius was reading the latest report sent by one of his foremen. As the guild was gaining in productivity year after year, the workers' working conditions had greatly degraded. Of course, it was more profitable to continue this way, even if it meant compensating the families of the victims. But if he wanted to continue recruiting young, spirited Fyros, he had to assure them that death was not necessarily at the end of the tunnel. For Tiralion Nebius, like his father before him, was the head of the mining guild of the Pickheads, one of the largest and wealthiest guilds in the Fyros Empire. | Sitting comfortably in his rendor leather chair, elbows resting on his gorgeous solid wood desk, Tiralion Nebius was reading the latest report sent by one of his foremen. As the guild was gaining in productivity year after year, the workers' working conditions had greatly degraded. Of course, it was more profitable to continue this way, even if it meant compensating the families of the victims. But if he wanted to continue recruiting young, spirited Fyros, he had to assure them that death was not necessarily at the end of the tunnel. For Tiralion Nebius, like his father before him, was the head of the mining guild of the Pickheads, one of the largest and wealthiest guilds in the Fyros Empire. | ||
| Строка 23: | Строка 23: | ||
However, despite the powers granted by the draconic ashes, which the Zoraï people also called spiritual particles, the greatest ambition of the Fyros people remained to find and exterminate the Great Dragon, which they knew to be the source of the great fires that ravaged the Desert, the premise of its apocalyptic return. Of course, Tiralion did not believe in the Dragon Myth. He simply knew how to sniff out lucrative investments and play the patriotic game. After all, he had also become a clever politician over the years, advised and taught by his wife. | However, despite the powers granted by the draconic ashes, which the Zoraï people also called spiritual particles, the greatest ambition of the Fyros people remained to find and exterminate the Great Dragon, which they knew to be the source of the great fires that ravaged the Desert, the premise of its apocalyptic return. Of course, Tiralion did not believe in the Dragon Myth. He simply knew how to sniff out lucrative investments and play the patriotic game. After all, he had also become a clever politician over the years, advised and taught by his wife. | ||
| − | Deep in thought, and busy playing with his long, braided mahogany beard, Tiralion was finishing the second reading of the report. One more death, one | + | Deep in thought, and busy playing with his long, braided mahogany beard, Tiralion was finishing the second reading of the report. One more death, one less… After all, such were the risks of the job! Satisfied with his conclusion, he grabbed his igara quill, a blank parchment, and wrote a succinct reply to his foreman: the victim's family would be generously compensated. The Fyros leaned on his desk to get up and stretched. Thus ended his long and difficult working day. Caressing his belly, already well rounded for his age, he wondered what the cook had planned for dinner. At the same time, the door opened and his wife entered the room. About thirty years old, she was dressed in the red linen robe traditionally worn by senators, and her golden hair was tied back in a bun. |
:''"Good evening Tiralion," she said as she came to kiss her husband's swarthy skull. | :''"Good evening Tiralion," she said as she came to kiss her husband's swarthy skull. | ||
| Строка 51: | Строка 51: | ||
:''"Come, I say! It's Belenor!"" | :''"Come, I say! It's Belenor!"" | ||
| − | Tiralion reluctantly put down his glass and stood up. He sighed. He really didn't understand the attraction some people had for newborns. Belenor was only a few months old, and his life consisted of sleeping, eating and defecating. Until he learned to calculate, his father didn't see how the child could have interested him. Unable to contain his impatience, his wife grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards upper floors. An investment. He had to consider it an | + | Tiralion reluctantly put down his glass and stood up. He sighed. He really didn't understand the attraction some people had for newborns. Belenor was only a few months old, and his life consisted of sleeping, eating and defecating. Until he learned to calculate, his father didn't see how the child could have interested him. Unable to contain his impatience, his wife grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards upper floors. An investment. He had to consider it an investment… A few stairs later, the corpulent Fyros arrived near his son's room, out of breath. Eutis grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a stern look. |
:''"Look discreetly through the door, and above all, don't make a sound!" | :''"Look discreetly through the door, and above all, don't make a sound!" | ||
| Строка 97: | Строка 97: | ||
Now standing, Belenor tried to comb his mahogany hair, disheveled by her unexpected nap, and put back her beautiful beige linen tunic. Her vertigo was passing. | Now standing, Belenor tried to comb his mahogany hair, disheveled by her unexpected nap, and put back her beautiful beige linen tunic. Her vertigo was passing. | ||
| − | :''"I had a strange dream, yes. It | + | :''"I had a strange dream, yes. It was blending our last history class and my parents as young people. They were using 'vous' with each other like Matis do, it was very strange. Ah, there was also the Kami who came to visit me in my infant bed and the Black Mask!" |
Brandille abruptly jumped up on the table and raised her arms to the sky. For a few moments, her loose pied clothes and multicolored braids seemed to float. | Brandille abruptly jumped up on the table and raised her arms to the sky. For a few moments, her loose pied clothes and multicolored braids seemed to float. | ||
| Строка 175: | Строка 175: | ||
Minutes passed, and finally repaired, the child knelt down to gather his pages. It didn't take him long to pick them all up. All but one: the first of his manuscript. And as he turned to see where it was, he jumped against the wall of the alley. Another teenager, also dressed in a leather bandage suit, was standing in front of him. He was carefully examining the missing page. How long had he been there? | Minutes passed, and finally repaired, the child knelt down to gather his pages. It didn't take him long to pick them all up. All but one: the first of his manuscript. And as he turned to see where it was, he jumped against the wall of the alley. Another teenager, also dressed in a leather bandage suit, was standing in front of him. He was carefully examining the missing page. How long had he been there? | ||
| − | :''" | + | :''"Um… The Sacred War. Interesting. Are you the author of this fiction?" |
The Fyros turned the sheet over. It contained a text written in Matéis. Belenor stared at the teenager's black hair and eyes for a few moments and, without understanding the reason, turned scarlet. Taken by a strange panic, he threw himself on him. | The Fyros turned the sheet over. It contained a text written in Matéis. Belenor stared at the teenager's black hair and eyes for a few moments and, without understanding the reason, turned scarlet. Taken by a strange panic, he threw himself on him. | ||
| − | :''" | + | :''"G… Give me that back!" |
The stranger, particularly agile, had no trouble dodging him. | The stranger, particularly agile, had no trouble dodging him. | ||
| Строка 187: | Строка 187: | ||
Still scarlet, Belenor did not succeed in supporting his glance. He stammered. | Still scarlet, Belenor did not succeed in supporting his glance. He stammered. | ||
| − | :''" | + | :''"T… This text is mine! And it's written in Matéis. You won't be able to read it. |
:''"Oh yes? And why is that?" guffawed the teenager." | :''"Oh yes? And why is that?" guffawed the teenager." | ||
| Строка 207: | Строка 207: | ||
:''"And where do you get all these ideas?" | :''"And where do you get all these ideas?" | ||
| − | :''" | + | :''"From… From my dreams," Belenor managed to answer. |
:''"Frankly, bravo. Beyond being very well written, tht's also particularly inventive. You know, I totally lack imagination. So people like you fascinate me." | :''"Frankly, bravo. Beyond being very well written, tht's also particularly inventive. You know, I totally lack imagination. So people like you fascinate me." | ||
| Строка 221: | Строка 221: | ||
As the teenager reached the corner of the alley, Belenor, who had been mute until then, stammered a few words. | As the teenager reached the corner of the alley, Belenor, who had been mute until then, stammered a few words. | ||
| − | :''" | + | :''"W… What's your name?" |
A mischievous smile appeared again on the stranger's face. | A mischievous smile appeared again on the stranger's face. | ||
| − | :''" | + | :''"I am Melkiar, of the tribe of the Dragon Tears. Remember that name well, Belenor Nebius, and sharpen your pen. For in a few years, you and I will have things to talk about. I am certain of it."}} |
{{NavChap|[[Chapter IX - Solitude]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter XI - The Generation of Miracles]]}} | {{NavChap|[[Chapter IX - Solitude]]|[[Chronicles of the First Crusade#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter XI - The Generation of Miracles]]}} | ||
{{Portal|The Great Library}} | {{Portal|The Great Library}} | ||
