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de:Der Wasserbrecher Stamm
en:The Water Breakers Tribe
es:La Tribu de los Rompe Aguas
fr:La Tribu des Dresseurs d’Eau
ru:Племя водорезальщиков
 
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Reference text ( Maintained text, used as reference ) :
Notes: (Dorothée, 2020-12-07)

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“The Water Breakers Tribe”, an amber cube about the Water Breakers's tribe, given by Senator Abycus Zekops to the akenak Na-Tara in 2545..



“Work on that skin, lil' chap, it's not clean enough for my taste!” said the master tanner, spitting in the river with an ungraceful gesture.
“And hurry up, lil' dude, we don't have all day, damn hairless kami! Would miss more than one of these good-for-nothing Tryker thugs to come and kick your rear end by stealing your dappers...” he mumbled as he walked away from the water hole.

    It was a beautiful day that had begun. The cool morning foreshadowed a blazing afternoon under the oppressive heat of the desert, which made my work as an apprentice tanner of the Water Breakers tribe easier. But heat meant thirst, and the herbivores would soon arrive in droves at the water point. And herbivores mean predators... But for the time being, it was enough not to think about it. I had been working for more than two hours on the same varinx skin by rubbing it with tama wood chips. At the end of these two hours, the skin was not "perfect" as the master tanner wanted it, my shavings stock for the day was almost exhausted, not to mention the splinters that I collected in the palm of my hand. As for the water in the oasis, it was getting seriously dirty and therefore unusable. The call for a break rang out and I had a moment of panic. After the break, the tanner would come back to see me again and as my work hadn't progressed a bit, he would take unhealthy pleasure in making me catch hell.
    It had been two weeks since we had received the order from the imperial palace to refurbish little Dexton's room. Bedspread in varinx skin. But not the standard model, nor the basic model, of course. And when it wasn't orders for highly luxurious products such as those we were in charge to produce, the Empire would order heavy armours from us. But at that time, many sighs escaped me as I looked at the state of the unsuitable skin that had fallen on me. I couldn't get anywhere with these varinx skins, not to mention the grease stains on the coat. And all this for a mission that had to be achieved quickly. The whole tribe had been busy for a fortnight. Drapes, clothes, various carpets... Everything had to be done for a being who one day would be the Emperor of the Fyros people, our Emperor. And every day, the water was a little more vitiated, brownish. The air was a little less breathable and the wind didn't help. Some people said that the storm was about to break out. I am still waiting for it.

Frameless

    The afternoon, as expected, was hot and scorching. But nothing could have prevented me from finishing my painful task after the violent punishment graciously offered between two snags by the tannery master. Generous he was. I finally managed to clean the skin properly, as I should have done, and, proud of my work, raised my head to watch the herds of herbivores drinking at the water's edge. But nothing there. Nothing of nothing. Not the shade of a herbivore. Yet the star of the day was high in the sky and the cattle should have been there. Yes, but no. Later, I will be surprised that I didn't see any predators either. Strange...

“Hey Xerc'!” said my two-Jena-year-younger matis friend, my youngest, “didn't you notice? Three days that we haven't seen a single grazer or a bodoc eater! I bet the Ma-Duk, well, he’s going to fall down on us all of a sudden!”
    As a young, enamored fool that I was, I stupidly smiled at the little homine with a face burnt by the desert sun while eating my filthy broth. “No time”, said the master tanner, we had to make do with inedible quasi-military rations to finish the imperial order on time. And the absence of herbivores did not make things any easier. I sighed again, without paying attention to the whispers that were spreading through the tribe's camp. After a while the whispers fell silent and, intrigued, I took my head out of the vile dish that we were forced to swallow and barely managed to choke me with a vile mouthful of broth.

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“Is good your job, tanner, but not Nature respectful. Necessary is to stop polluting activity yours, 'cause animals more want to drink in Oasis of Oflovak and dying desiccated in desert are. Kamis saddened are by deaths these by hundreds! You understand? Should you! ”

    Two sentinels stood majestically before the very pale and not that proud master tanner of the Water Breakers. The purple eyes, reflecting an unfathomable immensity, were staring at the homin with an unattractive coldness.
“But, ... We have very short deadlines imposed by the Palace of Pyr, and ...”
“Silence you do, homin! is water not good for life. No life, not you on Atys. You stop your work must until the water good and drinkable is too. Otherwise, Ma-Duk punish you decide will. ”
    The poor master tanner was losing consistency like forest snow under the desert sun. I almost felt sorry for him, but I understood that if he decided to stop production, we would risk losing the market, our reputation, and much more. Shortly afterwards, the kamis left, not without a reminder of our hominid duties towards them.
    The day passed in a slow rhythm, each one wandering from one workbench to another. The presence of the kamis did not bode well, and half-voiced confessions were running through the camp, as if they were waiting for a divine judgment. In the evening, the master tanner gathered the tribe by the glow of a campfire and announced his decision: they would not stop the river work, that the waters would purify themselves and that the herbivores would eventually return, stupid beasts that they were. Some people swore, prayed, cried, but the master was the master.

    I was among the five members of the Tribe of the [Water-Dresser] to stand up against the master tanner. All of us claimed the right to fight him to see if he was still worthy to lead the operations. If one of us won, we could do what we wanted, and the tanner would be banned from the tribe. The opposite would also work. The other four had all failed and were pinning their hopes on me. If I won, they would stay. If I lost... We would be exiled. The whole tribe was watching the struggle. It didn't last long. I slipped on some kind of tanned skin on the ground and dragged my already tired opponent down with me, and Ma-Duk knows how, I found myself on top of him. Above all the members of the Tribe. Humiliated, the master tanner ran away and my first decision was to stop all river work. Too bad if we were late, the Kamis do not have to be annoyed.
    In the end, the order was fulfilled with only a few weeks delay and my tribe was amply rewarded. Since then we have been maintaining an excellent relationship with the Imperial Palace in all matters relating to leather. I hope that my son Boeseus will be my worthy successor.

  in “Memoirs of Fyre, by Xercus Xalon, of the Water Breakers tribe.



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Last version 2021-09-20•
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