EVENTS

You notice it by a more cheerful attitude around the campfires of the city guards. You notice it in the smiling faces of the children running around. You notice it by the eager Yubos pawing in the dust, fattening up for the winter. You notice it by many things. Atysmas is coming!

Come to the new Lutrykin Atysmas Village at 12h - Quinteth, Floris 11, 2nd AC 2596(*) for Atysmas Story Telling! The Lutrykin Storyteller will host the gathering. Come tell us a tale, or just come to listen to the amazing stories told by other assembled homins. Enjoy a beautiful Atysmas gathering with a mixture of funny, contemplative and inspirational tales and poems. Let all inhabitants of Atys be part of your fantasy and share an Atysian story.

We are looking forward to a delightful evening with you and your favourite stories.

(*) [OOC] Tuesday, 26 December 2017 20:00:00 UTC (6 years ago). [/OOC]

The torn mask
Tale of Atysmas (2017)

You know that we traditionally wear red and white clothes for Atysmas but do you know why?
This is a story as told to me in the Jungle.

Once upon a time there was a Kwai who had lost faith in the Kamis and had chosen to live among the Matis in the church of Jena. Nevertheless, he had remained very much loved, surrounded by friends from the four nations because he was also very kind, always ready to help his neighbour. His mask reflected his inner serenity, without any mark.
One day our kwai falls asleep, tired, at the corner of a fire in a secluded place in the city of Yrkanis. When he wakes up, he feels a little shaky, not as usual but without being able to say why. Returning to the center of Yrkanis, he senses on him the glances of the homins he meets. He feels it as fear or anger. His mask is pulling him more and more and he looks for a smooth enough surface to be able to examine it. Horror! He falls on his knees and tears flow on his mask, but without erasing the marks that zebra it from one end to the other, red and white scratches, marks of treachery and infamy. In vain, he tries to erase them and, covered with shame, he locks himself in his helmet refusing to remove it whatever the circumstances.
Here he is, wandering on the bark, miserable, locked up in his helmet, unable to feel the sweetness of the wind and the rays of the day star on his mask.
Between you and me, I think that the hardest was still not being able to drink beer in charming company at the bar but well, it is a story about Zorai not tryker.
But in spite of these marks, he remains a good homin and one day he sees himself questioned by a Zoraï at the entrance of the Kitin’s Lair in Almati. She lost a very precious pendant in there and needs help finding it and here they are, facing the dangers of the place side by side. After many fights, they arrive in a secluded and quiet room where changing lights create wonderful drawings on the walls. The show is striking and full of happiness, the pendant is there!
The joy of the Zorai warms the heart of the so sad kwai.
- Ari'kami Kito, you are such a good homin. But why don't you take off your helmet? Nu would like to be able to thank you and engrave your features in my memory.
- Shikyo-ne, kai'bini, don't ask me that.
- But why, the place is quiet and the lights are so beautiful. Please, show me your mask!
Without a word, the kwai tilts his head to remove his helmet and raises his eyes towards the homina. Tears of shame flow over the mask without a sound.
- Oh! The homina's eyes widen and her hand extends towards the mask until she touches the marks.
- Ne, I can't believe it, you are too kind to wear these marks. What happened?
He puts on his helmet and tells his story.
- But you must certainly not hide these marks! exclaims the homina. If you hide them, you're right about whoever did them. If you put them out in the open while remaining yourself, you resist the threat and are stronger than him. Believe me, you're not what those marks would mean.
The way back is calm and just before leaving the Zorai turns to our homin:
- Please, trust me, remove your helmet and walk proudly. I will follow you.
Galvanized by the words of the wise Zorai, the kwai removes the helmet and goes back to the others. The first encounters are difficult but the presence of Zorai reassures and the kindness of the kwai ends up triumphing over the last reticence.
Atysmas is here and the kwai multiplies the good deeds so much so that these red and white marks visible between all are greeted with joy and even hoped for.
For this reason, the homins who do not wear masks have become accustomed to wear red and white on their clothes for the period of Atysmas.

La lumière des feux
Conte d’Atysoël (2017)

Il était une fois une jeune trykette qui était heureuse dans sa famille. Rippie Be’Loppy, car tel était le nom de notre trykette, avait paisiblement grandi dans les lacs mais elle avait rejoint une famille qui estimait que l’hominité était plus importante que la sève ou la faction. Du coup, dans sa famille, elle côtoyait toutes les sèves et s’ouvrait aux trésors de l’amitié. Un jour, elle dansait avec un zoraï, le lendemain elle s’entrainait avec une matis… La vie semblait s’écouler sans heurt tant la joie de vivre emplissait sa maison. La cheffe de sa maison était une trykette elle aussi. Rippie adorait sa cheffe qu’elle considérait comme sa grande sœur. Parfois elle la voyait se renfermer sur elle-même, car sa cheffe avait déjà vécu des choses effroyables, avant même que les Kitins ne ravagent la surface d’Atys. Dans ces moments, Rippie était toujours là pour aider sa grande sœur et il suffisait de retrouver les membres de la famille pour que ces instants de noirceur s’enfuient devant la joie et les rires. Rien ne semblait pouvoir les atteindre.

Pourtant, petit à petit, l’un après l’autre, les membres de la maison se faisaient plus rares puis finissaient par disparaître car la vie est ainsi faite que rien n’est immuable.
Un jour, il ne resta plus que Rippie et sa grande sœur. Rippie essayait de maintenir la joie, mais parfois le cœur n’y était plus et sans les rires des autres, il devenait de plus en plus difficile de tenir à distance les démons de sa grande sœur.
Arriva ce jour funeste, où loin de l’amitié de Rippie, la cheffe de la maison perdit son sang-froid. Harcelée, se sentant rattrapée par ses démons, la cheffe rejoignit les plus noirs des noirs, coupant les ponts avec l’hominité et abandonnant les rênes de sa maison.
Rippie se sentit coupable de n’avoir pas été là et elle guetta, en vain, longuement sa grande sœur sans penser à prendre soin d’elle. Elle devint une vraie sauvage et perdit jusqu’à l’habitude de parler aux homins.
Épuisée et inconsolable, Rippie revint à Avendale et prit la terrible décision de quitter cette maison qui lui rappelait trop combien ils avaient été heureux.
Elle erra longtemps sans s’arrêter car dans chaque endroit le flot de ses souvenirs menaçait de la submerger jusqu’à, un jour, tomber sur une enfant en pleurs.

Elle était, une fois de plus, revenue dans les Lacs, attirée par cette douceur qu’elle aspirait, malgré tout, à retrouver. Là elle entendit pleurer, des pleurs déchirants mais réfrénés comme si l’homin qui pleurait avait peur d’attirer l’attention. Elle, qui avait tant pleuré, ne put résister à ces sanglots et, s’approchant sans faire de bruit, elle découvrit cachée dans un bosquet de bambú une petite fille toute habillée de bric et de broc. Craignant qu’elle ne s’enfuie et ne se heurte à un des cloppers qui arpentaient la plage, Rippie bondit et attrapa la petite pour la serrer dans ses bras. La petite commença par se débattre de toutes ses forces mais, visiblement exténuée, elle se laissa rapidement aller dans les bras de Rippie et les sanglots reprirent de plus belle jusqu’à ce qu’elle s’endorme d’un coup.
Rippie resta là de longues heures, attendant que la petite se réveille.
Quand elle ouvrit les yeux, Rippie lui sourit et ouvrit la bouche pour lui demander son nom et ce qu’elle faisait là mais elle n’avait pas parlé depuis longtemps et tout ce qui sortit fut un croassement qui fit éclater de rire la petite. Rippie ne put que serrer ce petit corps contre elle pendant qu’elles étaient toutes les deux secouées par un fou-rire entrecoupé de sanglots. Rippie avait retrouvé une raison de vivre.
Rippie et la petite parcouraient Atys en tout sens. Rippie parlait, enseignait, montrait, la petite écoutait, apprenait et s’entraînait. Le soir, elles s’endormaient sous la voûte du ciel et les racines de la canopée. Si l’une avait du chagrin, l’autre était là pour la consoler. Si l’une était heureuse, la présence de l’autre renforçait cette joie. Les yubos les suivaient partout où elles allaient. Même les cloppers hésitaient devant tant de bonne humeur.

Un matin d’Atysoël, sentant une présence, Rippie se réveille en sursaut et voit en face d’elle une homine inconnue. Des yeux, elle cherche la petite mais ne la trouve nulle part et pâlit subitement. L’homine en face lui sourit gentiment et d’une voix très douce lui dit :
« Ne cherche plus la petite, Rippie. Tu l’as prise sous ton aile et tu lui as enseigné sans rien lui demander en retour. Elle a accompli son destin. Pour te récompenser, je vais t’offrir deux choses, d’abord tu n’oublieras jamais ces instants de bonheur et pourras toujours y puiser la consolation pour aller de l’avant, ensuite je vais t’apprendre à allumer des feux de camp dans lesquels brilleront les images de l’amitié. Ceux pour qui tu les allumeras seront apaisés de leurs tourments. »
L’homine se lève et tend à Rippie un briquet qui semble diffuser une douce lumière.
« Prends le, Rippie, et sème la joie sur Atys »
Et l’homine disparaît.

Depuis, Rippie parcourt les chemins d’Atys. Elle en connaît tous les recoins et en fait découvrir la beauté à tous ceux qui veulent faire un bout de chemin avec elle. A la fin de la journée, elle allume le feu de camp et les homins qui l’accompagnent croient entendre un rire d’enfant et voir dans les flammes un sourire qui leur réchauffe le cœur.
Et un jour, un après l’autre, ses frères et sœurs croiseront les feux de camp et reviendront dans la maison…

The power of Goo

A Karavaneer's tale

Friends, listen to my story!

At that time homins did not know Kamis yet. However, Kamis were alive and watched Atys, biding their time. Jena was still their Supreme Kami.

So, one of them was observing homins. He had settled quietly in the middle of a Fyros village and had taken the look of a well's rim. Every morning, a young homina was coming to draw a bucket of water for preparation of the first meal. Her name was Ulynarus, and her wakening had put her in a good mood. While pulling on the rope that held her bucket, she was singing simple rhymes in a soft and warm voice, deeply troubling the Kami. He was waiting more and more eagerly for this moment every day.

On one evening, a young hawker entered the village. Smooth talker and crowned with the halo of exotism his activity provided, he easily seduced the beautiful Ulynarus. Her morning singing became even deeper and happier.

For three days and three nights, Ulynarus stayed by her prince, deaf to the warnings of his entourage, living a moment of intense happiness. When he left, she wanted to follow him, but, with a brutal word, he told her that he did not want it. He liked the isolation, and the change of homina in each village. He thanked her for the good times passed in her company, assuring her that he would keep an imperishable memory of those, said goodbye to her, and left without looking back.

Ulynarus' liveliness ran dry. No more singing in the morning at her coming to the well. Friends and family tried to comfort her, and said that time would fix things. Another homin would some day replace this lost love. Everyone in the village was sure of that, and patience was called for.

But the Kami knew nothing of all that. After some days without singing in the morning, he tried desperately to understand what had happened. Listening to conversations, spying on the beauty more than ever, he at last understood.

One morning, the well's rim disappeared. Racing at the speed of fire pushed by the wind, the Kami quickly found our merchant, responsible for Ulynarus' mutism. He invoked his power of death and threw it on the unfortunate homin. Gnawed from the inside by the first manifestation of the Goo, he became insane and incoherent and died in a few days.

Learning this, Jena went into deep anger.

"What? I charge you with great responsibilities, namely watching over Atys, and I provide you with the means to assume them! And with those, what are you doing? Instead of protecting, you destroy! You are not worthy of this power!"

She deprived the Kamis of the power of death and threw it away, to deal with it later. She wanted to banish this little Kami, but he fomented a revolt and took power over Jena who then found help from the Karavan. But all of this is another story.

Know that so arose the Goo, the great plague of Atys, and Ma-Duk.

And, for those who wonder what happened to Ulynarus, she comforted herself quickly and had a happy life in her village, married to the homin who came to rebuild the well's rim. Her early singing rang out for decades into the future.

Friends, my story is over.