On the Route des Ombres, he had made a detour to the Pyromancers' to stock up on supplies and see if he could trust Xymolaus' niece. Given what he was carrying, she introduced herself, offering him some company.
- I don't feel like company. Can we meet there?
- I won't be far. But I'd be surprised if you stayed alone for the rest of the trip.
She stayed about a hundred yards away from him as they made their way up into the Elusive Forest. It annoyed him to see her out of the corner of his eye, but this wasn't his territory, and the Primes had their own rules. After the Low Hills, she was overtaken by a tryker in characteristic Chlorogoos garb, who chatted with her for a moment, before striding to her side. Haokan thought she remembered that the two tribes didn't much like each other, but these two must have shared a secret relationship that would have made Feinigan smile.
As he reached the Wind Gate, he hesitated. He felt the Void strike hard at his heart. An almost irresistible urge to stay there, to not move, until the water falling from the ceiling calcified him in place, invaded him stronger and stronger. The other two moved closer to see what was troubling the Zorai. Under the rain of sap that hid his tears, he murmured:
- I can't remember... the Black Ring room, or the Ruins?
The two looked at each other for a moment, then the tryker declared:
- La Salle. That's... that's where the rites were performed, and there's less risk of the Shapers seeing us. The Babes will let us know if they send out a patrol.
- Ukio. The room, then.
With effort, Haokan forced himself to take one step, then another, towards the ancient area. Today, he had the impression of hearing the voices of ghosts whispering in the interlacing hills, the souls of the homins who died here holding a syrupy concert. But perhaps it was only the lamentations of the cutes and the boos of the vorax.
He pulled out a fire starter once he was there, but the Pyromancer laughed softly:
- It's a funeral pyre you want, not roasting marshmallows... Let us handle this.
In just a few hours, they had collected a large pile of strange, amber-colored pieces of wood. For his part, Haokan had unloaded his mektoub, then untied the bandages that had protected the body. For a long moment, he contemplated the face of his beloved tryker, frozen in the amber of the stance. Where had Feinigan come up with this method of preserving such a great "object "**? No matter. Over time, this snoop must have unearthed all the Bark's secrets, not just the dubious gossip. The spell had held up well, with the seals guaranteeing that it had not been tampered with.
Finally, he placed the body, still surrounded by its amber barrier, on the pyre finally erected.
- It won't burn that kind of amber, Haokan," clarified the fyros.
- I'll open the Stance once the fire is lit. Is there nothing else to do? Just light the fire and wait until it goes out?
- It's going to take time, but yes. Everything's safe, there's no reason for it to burn any more, and just in case, we're here.
- Born. You can wait outside, but not here.
- But...
- Light that fire and GET THE FUCK OUT! GET OUT!
The two fyrakists exchanged glances. It was no use arguing with that bodoc head, everyone on Atys knew: when he had an idea in mind, it was hard to change his mind. The pyromancer clicked her lighter, while the chlorogoo mumbled phrases in an ancient tongue, then they moved away as the flames licked the wood.
Haokan cast the spell allowing the amber to lose its rigidity and open up. The smell of goo immediately became pervasive, mingling with the smell of smoke from the strange wood and causing the Zorai to hiccup with nausea. Holding back his retching, he headed for the mektoub's saddlebags left in a corner of the room (the poor beast having preferred to flee at the first sign of fire, and nobody having stopped him). He rummaged around without finding anything relevant other than alcohol. At this point... He emptied a few bottles, without the smell of bhyr really overpowering the rest, mingling now with a most arresting smell of rotting meat cooking, which finished him off. He unloaded his entire meal from the day before, and no doubt from the day before, into a corner of the room.
- TOUB, FEI !!!!
A less stubborn hominin than Haokan would probably have run off at that point. He persisted, emptying one bhyr after another as he contemplated the roaring fire, sobbing and screaming between cataleptic fits.
Was it the fumes, the alcohol abuse, the madness into which the Zorai was plunging or... something else? As he lay half-unconscious beside the half-burnt pyre, he felt a familiar presence at his side. Turning his head, he gazed at a mask he couldn't have forgotten for all the zun in the world: the broken horns, the surface like badly sanded, reshaped wood. And those festering wounds on the homine's body, with purplish ichor running through her clothes...
He said nothing at first, content to stare at Celle who couldn't be there, who herself was gazing at the flames, her mask as serene as a nightmare vision like this could be. Then he stammered, his speech pasty from bhyr abuse:
- You died. You couldn't...
- Of course, Mayu'kyo. But death is not the end. There is no death in our world.
The warrior tried to stand up, struggling against the heaviness of his limbs and the dizziness that seized him:
- You... won't... have it...
- We've already had it.
She laughed a discordant laugh, in a husky voice that seemed to be the voice of several beings:
- Yui, we've had it... more than we could have imagined.
She flicked Haokan's mask, and he collapsed with a cry of terror at the sight of the purple claws that had just touched him.
- Peace, Mayu'kyo," declared one of its voices. We come to greet the Dragon who flies away from this land of suffering... that's all.
- You... don't...
- Keep it? No. There are many we would have liked to keep... There are also many who escape us. And because we're in the Darkness, Mayu'kyo, we can tell you: it doesn't matter. We'll win in the end. It's not the last seeds of life that will change this destiny.
She contemplated the Zoraï at her feet, sprawled there in a parody of veneration only due to his present weakness.
- He was... magnificent. He paid the price, for you and for them. For that...
Once again, she pointed one of her claws at Haokan's mask, where the seed of life was said to be hidden, and whispered:
- We hope you pay tribute to his legacy. And who knows? Maybe one day you too will know how to fly.
The great warrior groaned in terror, feeling like a little child again, lost in the face of death. He closed his eyes. Perhaps he even fainted. When he opened them again, an infinite time later, he was alone.
Feeling a little more able to move, he stood up and contemplated the pyre, which was now a pile of embers. The heat was still intense, making it impossible to approach.
He was alone. He was alone. The body had been reduced to ashes, and Gami, if she had been anything other than a hallucination, had disappeared. Haokan struggled to his feet, searching through the mess he'd laid out until he found a bhyr he'd missed. He poured the contents into the brazier:
- Wherever you are... I hope you find some good stuff to drink.
As the alcohol came into contact with the embers, it projected a great tongue of flame that made Haokan jump, although he hadn't anticipated this effect. Then he burst out laughing at what sounded like a response from his crazy little dragon.
- All the way, eh?
- I don't feel like company. Can we meet there?
- I won't be far. But I'd be surprised if you stayed alone for the rest of the trip.
She stayed about a hundred yards away from him as they made their way up into the Elusive Forest. It annoyed him to see her out of the corner of his eye, but this wasn't his territory, and the Primes had their own rules. After the Low Hills, she was overtaken by a tryker in characteristic Chlorogoos garb, who chatted with her for a moment, before striding to her side. Haokan thought she remembered that the two tribes didn't much like each other, but these two must have shared a secret relationship that would have made Feinigan smile.
As he reached the Wind Gate, he hesitated. He felt the Void strike hard at his heart. An almost irresistible urge to stay there, to not move, until the water falling from the ceiling calcified him in place, invaded him stronger and stronger. The other two moved closer to see what was troubling the Zorai. Under the rain of sap that hid his tears, he murmured:
- I can't remember... the Black Ring room, or the Ruins?
The two looked at each other for a moment, then the tryker declared:
- La Salle. That's... that's where the rites were performed, and there's less risk of the Shapers seeing us. The Babes will let us know if they send out a patrol.
- Ukio. The room, then.
With effort, Haokan forced himself to take one step, then another, towards the ancient area. Today, he had the impression of hearing the voices of ghosts whispering in the interlacing hills, the souls of the homins who died here holding a syrupy concert. But perhaps it was only the lamentations of the cutes and the boos of the vorax.
He pulled out a fire starter once he was there, but the Pyromancer laughed softly:
- It's a funeral pyre you want, not roasting marshmallows... Let us handle this.
In just a few hours, they had collected a large pile of strange, amber-colored pieces of wood. For his part, Haokan had unloaded his mektoub, then untied the bandages that had protected the body. For a long moment, he contemplated the face of his beloved tryker, frozen in the amber of the stance. Where had Feinigan come up with this method of preserving such a great "object "**? No matter. Over time, this snoop must have unearthed all the Bark's secrets, not just the dubious gossip. The spell had held up well, with the seals guaranteeing that it had not been tampered with.
Finally, he placed the body, still surrounded by its amber barrier, on the pyre finally erected.
- It won't burn that kind of amber, Haokan," clarified the fyros.
- I'll open the Stance once the fire is lit. Is there nothing else to do? Just light the fire and wait until it goes out?
- It's going to take time, but yes. Everything's safe, there's no reason for it to burn any more, and just in case, we're here.
- Born. You can wait outside, but not here.
- But...
- Light that fire and GET THE FUCK OUT! GET OUT!
The two fyrakists exchanged glances. It was no use arguing with that bodoc head, everyone on Atys knew: when he had an idea in mind, it was hard to change his mind. The pyromancer clicked her lighter, while the chlorogoo mumbled phrases in an ancient tongue, then they moved away as the flames licked the wood.
Haokan cast the spell allowing the amber to lose its rigidity and open up. The smell of goo immediately became pervasive, mingling with the smell of smoke from the strange wood and causing the Zorai to hiccup with nausea. Holding back his retching, he headed for the mektoub's saddlebags left in a corner of the room (the poor beast having preferred to flee at the first sign of fire, and nobody having stopped him). He rummaged around without finding anything relevant other than alcohol. At this point... He emptied a few bottles, without the smell of bhyr really overpowering the rest, mingling now with a most arresting smell of rotting meat cooking, which finished him off. He unloaded his entire meal from the day before, and no doubt from the day before, into a corner of the room.
- TOUB, FEI !!!!
A less stubborn hominin than Haokan would probably have run off at that point. He persisted, emptying one bhyr after another as he contemplated the roaring fire, sobbing and screaming between cataleptic fits.
***
Was it the fumes, the alcohol abuse, the madness into which the Zorai was plunging or... something else? As he lay half-unconscious beside the half-burnt pyre, he felt a familiar presence at his side. Turning his head, he gazed at a mask he couldn't have forgotten for all the zun in the world: the broken horns, the surface like badly sanded, reshaped wood. And those festering wounds on the homine's body, with purplish ichor running through her clothes...
He said nothing at first, content to stare at Celle who couldn't be there, who herself was gazing at the flames, her mask as serene as a nightmare vision like this could be. Then he stammered, his speech pasty from bhyr abuse:
- You died. You couldn't...
- Of course, Mayu'kyo. But death is not the end. There is no death in our world.
The warrior tried to stand up, struggling against the heaviness of his limbs and the dizziness that seized him:
- You... won't... have it...
- We've already had it.
She laughed a discordant laugh, in a husky voice that seemed to be the voice of several beings:
- Yui, we've had it... more than we could have imagined.
She flicked Haokan's mask, and he collapsed with a cry of terror at the sight of the purple claws that had just touched him.
- Peace, Mayu'kyo," declared one of its voices. We come to greet the Dragon who flies away from this land of suffering... that's all.
- You... don't...
- Keep it? No. There are many we would have liked to keep... There are also many who escape us. And because we're in the Darkness, Mayu'kyo, we can tell you: it doesn't matter. We'll win in the end. It's not the last seeds of life that will change this destiny.
She contemplated the Zoraï at her feet, sprawled there in a parody of veneration only due to his present weakness.
- He was... magnificent. He paid the price, for you and for them. For that...
Once again, she pointed one of her claws at Haokan's mask, where the seed of life was said to be hidden, and whispered:
- We hope you pay tribute to his legacy. And who knows? Maybe one day you too will know how to fly.
The great warrior groaned in terror, feeling like a little child again, lost in the face of death. He closed his eyes. Perhaps he even fainted. When he opened them again, an infinite time later, he was alone.
Feeling a little more able to move, he stood up and contemplated the pyre, which was now a pile of embers. The heat was still intense, making it impossible to approach.
He was alone. He was alone. The body had been reduced to ashes, and Gami, if she had been anything other than a hallucination, had disappeared. Haokan struggled to his feet, searching through the mess he'd laid out until he found a bhyr he'd missed. He poured the contents into the brazier:
- Wherever you are... I hope you find some good stuff to drink.
As the alcohol came into contact with the embers, it projected a great tongue of flame that made Haokan jump, although he hadn't anticipated this effect. Then he burst out laughing at what sounded like a response from his crazy little dragon.
- All the way, eh?