Chapter I·XVI - Civilizations - Revision history

Nilstilar at 21:57, 12 October 2024

2024-10-12T21:57:20Z

Nilstilar at 21:52, 12 October 2024

2024-10-12T21:52:55Z

Nilstilar at 14:25, 15 September 2024

2024-09-15T14:25:30Z

Nilstilar at 14:25, 15 September 2024

2024-09-15T14:25:00Z

Nilstilar at 17:14, 26 August 2024

2024-08-26T17:14:53Z

Nilstilar at 17:06, 26 August 2024

2024-08-26T17:06:44Z

Nilstilar at 17:03, 26 August 2024

2024-08-26T17:03:08Z

Nilstilar: Nilstilar moved page Chapter XVI - Civilizations to Chapter I·XVI - Civilizations

2024-03-08T17:42:18Z

Nilstilar moved page Chapter XVI - Civilizations to Chapter I·XVI - Civilizations

Nilstilar at 17:24, 8 March 2024

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Nilstilar at 21:15, 6 June 2023

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 A story that would end up catching up with them, and make their destinies cross.
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-{{NavChap|[[Chapter I·XV - Powers]]|[[The Sacred War#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter II·I The Black Kami]]}}
+{{NavChap|[[Chapter I·XV - Powers]]|[[The Sacred War#Table of contents|Table of contents]]|[[Chapter II·I - The Black Kami]]}}
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 It was the first time that Belenor had observed a Karavan agent so closely. Measuring about one meter sixty, the hominoid was dressed in a full-body suit that revealed a feminine form, but did not reveal a single square inch of skin. To this tight clothing was associated a veil hung at the level of the basin and a hood covering the helmet of the individual. A helmet consisting of a large white visor and what appeared to be a breathing mask. Next to the agent, several other ones, some of them with a more masculine build, were silently scanning the celestial battle. The Fyros gazed upon the mysterious beings for a few seconds and then suddenly felt a strange psychic pressure. The shooter had turned towards him and seemed to fix him from now on. Immediately, Belenor turned gaze away and stepped under the arch. As Melkiar and Brandille had once told him, Karavan agents gave off a supernatural aura, both terrifying and fascinating. Now he understood. And without a doubt, the sensation was like to the one he had felt the seldom times his eyes had rested on Emperor Thesop the Fratricide, like that time on the winners' stand after his victory at the Academy Games. Imagining his friend constrained by several of these agents, the Fyros felt panic assail him again. At that moment, all his thoughts were turned to Brandille. Alive, Brandille was. He could feel it. But was his friend free? She had to be… Her promise had to be kept.
-{{Couillard}}
+<center>[[file:Sep-chap-15-16.png|12px]]</center>
 Hempios Square was named after the first son of Dyros the Great, who had become the second emperor of the Fyros almost two centuries earlier. An emperor who, following the teachings of the Karavan, had encouraged the state alchemists to continue studying the pyrotechnic properties of certain materials. Thanks to this, the manufacture of firearms was generalized, which allowed the Empire to impose itself in front of the dissident tribes, but also to exist a little more on the international level. Moreover, since this time, the mastery of fire had become a strong characteristic of the Fyros civilization.
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 :''"Belenor. If you wish to join your mother, I understand perfectly. I wish I could have spent more time with mine…"
-Then, Belenor understood that the black-haired woman in front of whom he had found his friend kneeling, in the field of shrouds, was none other than Melkiar's mother. Too focused on his fears, the Fyros had been deeply lacking in empathy, and had not even been interested in the identity of the deceased. One by one, Belenor stared at Penala, Melkiar, Xynala, Tisse's gun and Varran, in whom he recognized Garius. And then suddenly, Brandille's face appeared to him. His dear friend, who had promised to return. His dear friend, from whom he would be forever separated if he fled from Fyre.
+Then, Belenor understood that the black-haired woman in front of whom he had found his friend kneeling, in the field of shrouds, was none other than Melkiar's mother. Too focused on his fears, the Fyros had been deeply lacking in empathy, and had not even been interested in the identity of the deceased. One by one, Belenor stared at Penala, Melkiar, Xynala, Tisse's gun and Varran, in whom he recognized Garius. And then suddenly, Brandille's face appeared to him. His dear friend, who had promised to return. His dear friend, from whom he would be forever separated if he fled far from Fyre.
-{{Couillard}}
+<center>[[file:Sep-chap-15-16.png|12px]]       [[file:Sep-chap-9-16.png|50px]]</center>
 Leaning against the bark wall of the narrow tunnel, Belenor sipped his broth in silence. Although he had left her in good hands, leaving Penala had definitely been painful for him. But abandoning Brandille was inconceivable. Moreover, it was not impossible that the Fyros would soon find his nurse, his mother, or even the lecture halls of the Academy. Maybe this swarm would be contained by the Karavan without Fyre being completely destroyed, maybe the Kamis would miraculously reappear, or in the worst case, maybe they would all meet up somewhere else. Far from home, of course, but reunited and alive. This besides was more or less the plan: to make a grand tour of the Desert, gather the survivors, then join this mysterious "rainbow" whose position the white-clad agent had roughly indicated, and which should take them far from the kitins, in the Prime Roots, while the creatures were eliminated by the Karavan's Stellar Ffire. That said, after ten days of trudging through the tunnels that lined the depths of Fyre, in constant fear of being spotted by a kitin patrol or dying in a rockslide, the Fyros was already missing the comforts of his family's mansion. Which, moreover, was perhaps at this hour already reduced to dust… Remembering the time when the massacres were only fiction, he imagined himself rereading ''The Sacred War'', comfortably installed in the second living room. This living room which he particularly liked, and in which his father also adored to bask… Belenor fixed a few moments the reflection which reflected him the broth and was taken of a new nausea. Physically, he looked so much like him… With his stomach in knots and unable to eat anything else, the Fyros offered his bowl to Messen Dyn, who had been rescued in the ruins of his small temple two days earlier. The old Kamist monk smiled at his young follower, accepted the precious food, and put down the parchment he was writing on.

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-<center><span style="color:purple;font-weight:bold"><big><big><big><big>'''I·XVI - Civilizations'''</big></big></big></big></span></center><br>
+<center><span style="color:purple;font-weight:bold"><big><big><big><big>'''I·XVI - Civilizations'''</big></big></big></big></span></center>
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 <center><span style="color:purple;font-weight:bold"><big><big><big><big>'''I·XVI - Civilizations'''</big></big></big></big></span></center><br>
 <center><span style="color:purple;font-weight:bold"><big><big>'''Jena Year 2481'''</big></big></span></center>

← Older revision		Revision as of 17:14, 26 August 2024
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-<center><span style="color:purple;font-weight:bold"><big><big>'''An 2481 de Jena'''</big></big></span></center>
+<center><span style="color:purple;font-weight:bold"><big><big>'''Jena Year 2481'''</big></big></span></center>
 {{Quotation|''Belenor Nebius, narrator''|

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	{{NavChap\|[[Chapter I·XV - Powers]]\|[[The Sacred War#Table of contents\|Table of contents]]\|[[Chapter II·I - The Black Kami]]}}		{{NavChap\|[[Chapter I·XV - Powers]]\|[[The Sacred War#Table of contents\|Table of contents]]\|[[Chapter II·I - The Black Kami]]}}
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← Older revision	Revision as of 17:42, 8 March 2024
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 Usually crowded with soldiers and citizens employed at the Palace, Hempios Square had been transformed into a gigantic refugee camp, where mixed soldiers, distraught citizens, Karavan agents and vehicles, but also a large number of slain homins, whose bodies had been carefully gathered on the left side of the immense secular building. On the right side, three large air transporters were welcoming homins on board. The same transporters that were sometimes seen on the outskirts of the rare villages inhabited by tribes serving the Karavan, and that allowed the agents to collect the precious resources gathered by their followers. Once the arch was passed, the general Icaron ordered his mektoub to lay on the ground the body of the Fyros that he had carried all along. Then, the homine and the two children rushed to his bedside. The father, to whom Belenor had given magical care, had now recovered. However, he was still unconscious, probably traumatized by the ordeal. The family thanked their saviors a thousand times, and, now safe, General Icaron asked Xynala what had become of Tisse. The latter mechanically repeated the answer she had given to Varran. Sincerely touched, the venerable Fyrosse expressed at length her sorrow and praised the merits of the newly promoted captain. Without understanding that she had just accentuated their disarray, the general finally greeted the young people, then moved towards a group of soldiers that she had just spotted. Dejected, the three friends watched her walk away in silence. Then Varran asked Xynala and Belenor to follow him. He intended to lead them to Melkiar, who was at the place where the victims were gathered.
-To reach their friend, the small group had to go along the bark wall that delimited the square and go around the crowd of survivors. All were huddled and extremely quiet. Only the tears of children, the lamentations of those who had lost everything and the distant bombardments of the Karavan disturbed the oppressive deathly silence that now reigned over the historic heart of Fyre. On the way, they passed several dozen carcasses of giant insects, piled up against the bark wall. Belenor took a close look at one of them, and noticed that this creature was quite different from the ones that had broken through the Southern Gates. For if its general aspect reminded in several points the "walking jaws" of the first wave, many other elements differentiated it. First of all, it was much more imposing. Its legs, in particular, were thicker and more vigorous. Then, its skull was provided with two enormous nozzles oozing a strange organic liquid, instead of the pairs of hooks. Its abdomen, no longer arched under its six legs but erected at the back of the thorax, was devoid of sting. Finally, the bronze color of the carapace had given way to a jet black studded in places with yellow patterns. Notably, a pair of sinister eyes seemed to be drawn on the creature's swollen skull, making it even more menacing. To imagine all these creatures alive, Belenor felt a nausea.
+To reach their friend, the small group had to go along the bark wall that delimited the square and go around the crowd of survivors. All were huddled and extremely quiet. Only the tears of children, the lamentations of those who had lost everything and the distant bombardments of the Karavan disturbed the oppressive deathly silence that now reigned over the historic heart of Fyre. On the way, they passed several dozen carcasses of giant insects, piled up against the bark wall. Belenor took a close look at one of them, and noticed that this creature was quite different from the ones that had broken through the Southern Gates. For if its general aspect reminded in several points the "walking jaws" of the first wave, many other elements differentiated it. First of all, it was much more imposing. Its legs, in particular, were thicker and more vigorous. Then, its skull was provided with two enormous nozzles oozing a strange organic liquid, instead of the pairs of hooks. Its abdomen, no longer arched under its six legs but erected at the back of the thorax, was devoid of sting. Finally, the brown and yellowish color of the carapace had given way to a jet black studded in places with yellow patterns. Notably, a pair of sinister eyes seemed to be drawn on the creature's swollen skull, making it even more menacing. To imagine all these creatures alive, Belenor felt a nausea.
 After a few minutes of walking, the group finally reached the area reserved for the victims. Then Belenor's heart sank. There were already hundreds of them, and new ones were arriving on stretchers with every passing minute… While some of the deceased were surrounded by their devastated loved ones, others seemed to be waiting patiently to be found. Around them, many Fyros wandered in this vast field of tears. Haggard, looking for their friends, their parents, their children or their loves. Of course, they were still alive. But in their hearts, they were as good as dead. Without stopping, Varran led Belenor and Xynala towards a large group of people people dressed in clothes identical to his own. Focusing on these homins, Belenor tried not to look at the shrouds he was stepping over. It was then that he recognized Melkiar, kneeling in front of the body of a homina whose black hair reminded of his own. Lying next to her, a tame varinx, two meters and a half long, was licking the face of the deceased. Unlike the other members of his species, this specimen had a black coat tending to blue, adorned with brown spots. One of the Fyros whispered a word in Melkiar's ear, and he stood up and turned back to his friends. Although his hairless face was marked by fatigue and grief, the homin had lost none of his charismatic aura.