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The story of a decline

When she approached him, he didn't see her at first. He was busy eating what looked like a cuttlery leg cooked with skin. A flash of memory came back to him from the trip to Oflovak, when she had rescued him from a band of cuttlers at the top of the Great Ridge. She had shown him how to cook the beast. Once again, she'd come to save him. Or at least, to prolong his life. For the remedy she was bringing him would only give him respite, before madness took him back.

- Aza, mon gros," hailed the fyrette as she arrived in front of him.

The fyros stared at her without stopping to eat.

- So, how are you feeling today," she inquired as she sat down opposite the fyros.

He was in his underpants, his body covered in sawdust, dried blood and soot. This grime made his scars and burns stand out all the more, highlighting them. It was as if he were wearing some kind of fantastic armor made of hominin flesh. Yet beneath the dirt, he was naked, except for the briefs he still had the modesty to keep on. The fyros didn't let go of his cuttler's paw but replied:

- When eaten well-cooked, cuttlery gives you strength! Have a look!

As he did so, he twirled his paw in the air, mimicking an axe, and dropped it heavily into the fire, throwing embers around. Then, with a flick of his teeth, he tore off a new piece of meat without taking care to clear it of ashes.

- I can see that," said the fyrette, attempting an awkward smile.

She was afraid. Not for her life, but for her friend's sanity. He seemed to be walking on the edge of the abyss.

- Lyren told me she'll be going back to the Fyros Legions soon," said the fyrette to lighten the mood.

The fyros's gaze twisted in an instant and darkened.

- What do you want," muttered the fyros, looking at her angrily.

The fyrette swallowed but tried not to let on. She had to hold out for him.

- Um... I brought you something to perk you up. It's not a cure yet. But it should fix you up for a while.

She took a vial out of her bag and handed it to the fyros.

- I also know that Tao Sian is working on a cure. It's Nikuya, you know, the zoraï who...

Not letting her finish, the fyros leapt to his feet and shouted:

- The Zoraïs are traitors! They get their technology from the Karavan! They manipulate us!

The fyrette remained impassive as much as possible. She had to calm him down long enough to get him to drink her potion. Then, if it worked - and it would - everything would be back to normal.

- Azazor! I made this potion myself. It's pure fyros. No other homin race has touched it, believe me.

The fyros seemed to calm down and sat down again, without letting go of his cuttler's paw, into which he bit down even harder.

- Come on, drink it down. It's not very good, but afterwards I have a little something to wash it down with.

She took a vial of essence of ocyx from her pocket and took a sip, as much to reassure the fyros as to reassure herself. The fyros took the vial and uncorked it. With an inquiring look, he asked:

- What's it based on?
- Mektoub urine," she laughed. What do you care? Just drink it.

The fyros grumbled as usual, which was a good sign. Then he gulped down the entire vial with a look of disgust on his face. It must be said that this remedy was not meant to be good.

- Now leave me alone," he grumbled, "and leave the vial of oxyx too.

The fyrette nodded and stood up. The fyros continued to devour her cuttler's paw hungrily. As a former legionnaire, she knew that the rumor that legionnaires ate Matis babies was unfounded. Yet, as Azazor bit into the cuttler's shin to the point of cracking, she couldn't help thinking that there might be some truth to it. She didn't ask for more and left without a backward glance.

---

fyros pure sève
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