Author Topic: ~ FFX-2.5 : The Price of Eternity ~ French to English Translation  (Read 49737 times)

CrystalOfLies

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Re: ~Eternal Cost~: French to English Translation
« on: December 14, 2014, 01:09:45 pm »
Chapter 2
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Besaid's waters overflowed with fish, but the catch ensured only the inhabitants' subsistence. In order to earn money, they produced a textile specific to the island. These last months, they had started to take advantage of the influx of people coming to visit the homeland of the High Summoner Yuna. They had converted a part of the temple to accommodate the travellers.

When Tidus arrived at the cove, the setting sun was dyeing the sky in orange, but the boat had not shown itself yet.

“What is this small boat?” the young man asked.

He was indicating a skiff moored at the pontoon. Wakka stood up straight:

“I am presenting you the Aurochs Ace!”

Since his return, Tidus had heard talk of the training boat of the team, the one in front of him, a lot of the time. He had imagined it bigger. The figurehead, which looked like a commemorative plate, probably symbolised a blitzball trophy. Unlike the original, always made of golf, this reproduction was only painted in yellow. The ensemble cut a sad figure.

“Thanks to this boat, the Aurochs have made considerable progress!

The shallow water surrounded Besaid. It stretched out so far that it was difficult to train here. In so little water, jumping was dangerous. Here is why the Aurochs lacked strength when they had to dive or to rise to the surface. Thanks to the Ace, the team could re-join from now on in deeper areas. In this way, they had adopted tactics using the whole sphere pool, like the "deep and shallow kick".

It has revolutionized our game,” Botta summarised, sticking out his chest.

Tidus patted the pectorals of his friend with a smile of approval.

“Originally, it was used for a little goods haulage, at Port Kilika,” Wakka explained. “We have restored it by ourselves. We have financed the purchase and the restoration work thanks to the villagers' donations. From now on, we must not disappoint them.
They started to warm up, under Letty's orders. With Datto, Botta, Jassu, Keepa and Rash, the new recruits Mesker and Karam, Wakka and Tidus, there were now ten. Wakka started to form two teams. Letty whistled with his fingers, and the match commenced.

They were following the rules of half blitz, a version which forbade players to disappear under the surface, with or without the ball, subject to penalties. Tidus received two already. He found it hard to control his movements.

“It is no big deal, don't worry!”

The cheering from his playmates was depressing him. Formerly, a level difference existed between a star player and a team from the countryside. Had the Aurochs improved so much, or had Tidus regressed that far?

“Beclem Clash!” Botta shouted suddenly.

The ball hit Tidus in the face.

Beclem, the previous trainer of the team, was famous for his severity. This unknown technique, taught by someone he had never met, shook him up definitively. In order to turn this stinging setback into a joke, he played dead. He was drifting on the surface of the sea, arms and legs flabby, when he heard a voice declaring:

“We are going to end with this: the team that scores the next point win the match, okay?”

Tidus stood up straight and noticed Keepa near himself, who was bearing a forced smile and added:

“The night is falling; we are not going to see the ball anymore.”

The long-awaited boat returned to the port, lit by powerful lamps. The Aurochs helped it to moor and unloaded the freight. The wooden crates were overflowing with fresh fish. Players and sailors moved the catch in bags that they shared out and put on their backs.

“And me?” Tidus asked. “You are not giving me something to take to the village?”

“Sorry,” one of the fishermen answered. “It was not a good day...”

The man, of around forty years old, broke off to stare at Tidus. Displaying an impressive stature, he had a luxuriant moustache but his skin was very pale.

“My name is Tidus, nice to meet you.”

“Bria.” (Note: Bria is Briah in French.)

He handed him a trident.

“Carry it for me, would you?”

“You fish with this weapon?”

Amused, Bria shook his hand:

“With a net. This is to protect myself.”

“Against monsters?”

“Do you have a moment, Wakka?” Bria asked point blank.
 
The two men drew away. Tidus could not hear their conversation, but Wakka's expression was enough for him to understand. Just after, the Aurochs, who were discussing the best way to cook fish, returned to the village, leaving Tidus and Bria behind in the cove.

Under the moonlight, the ocean was calm. Gelatinous and translucent creatures were crossing the beach without worrying about the men, to finally disappear in the trees. Monsters were still there, Tidus thought. Could he still fight them? Did he have the strength to do it? Or was he just a shadow of his former self, as the blitzball match had shown him?

“I had forgotten...” Bria murmured, while staring at the blitzball which was lying at his foot.

“Throw me a pass!” Tidus exclaimed.

He hoped to start the conversation again, but the fisherman ignored him and just stared at the young man, who returned this attitude in equal measure, for lack of anything better.
Bria's long hairs were waving because of the night breeze. With a closer look, he appeared to be younger than what Tidus had thought. His moustache made him look older. But the most striking was his eyes: they were a faded blue and brought to mind two pieces of glass polished by the waves.

“These eyes...” Bria began.

Surprised, Tidus drove the trident in the sand and rushed to the ball.

“These eyes have contemplated too long the distance.”

“Excuse me?”

This declaration was quite enigmatic and needed an explanation, yet the fisherman became silent again.

Tidus hit the ball, which rose above his head. He caught it with his right hand and moved it in his left hand with a smooth movement. Knee, head, shoulders... The sequence was deeply fixed in his muscles.

Since his interlocutor was staying quiet, Tidus changed his approach:

“You were not living here, two years ago.”

“No. I came to live near the High Summoner.”

“I see.”

“I take care of the temple, under monks’ authority. A month ago, I was transferred here from Bevelle. Did you hear about the members of New Yevon?”

“Yes.”

“A bloody bunch of chickens in my opinion!”

Tidus answered with an awkward smile but, deep down, he was applauding the fisherman’s words.

“Really? And what do you think about the Youth League?”

Minus habens.

“In other words?”

“All stupid.”

“You are quite strict. And what about the Machine Faction?”

Focused on the ball located on his head to prevent it from falling, Tidus was waiting for Bria's answer.

“I saw you coming.”

“Excuse me?”

Not really sure if he understood, the young man turned in the direction of the ocean. The ball fell in the sand.

“At midday. We heard of Yuna’s return thanks to the radio, and I followed the villagers. I saw you emerging from the ocean. How did you reach this place?”

Tidus did not feel like answering his question at all. An ill-conceived explanation could produce a disastrous impression. If he got into trouble with this man, linked to the religion of Yevon, who knows what consequences it could have for Yuna?

“Two years ago, you came from Zanarkand. Not from the ruined city we know, but from a fast-growing city. Nobody believes this... but I am willing to trust you.”

“Uh... Thanks!”

“How did you get to Spira back then?”

Tidus stayed quiet.

“According to the rumour, Sin carried you.”

“I don't know what to say.”

“Do you think he could have sent you back to Zanarkand?”

Once again, he did not want to answer his question. Anyway, Yuna had defeated Sin: he did not have a way to confirm this hypothesis. Yet Tidus was certain about one thing:

“The city I had known does not exist anymore. It was the one from the Summoning...”

“I would like you to tell me more about it.”

Tidus shrugged, without obligation.

“Sin had spread chaos across Zanarkand. How could the city have survived such a disaster?”

“It does not matter. Recently, I have perceived a lot of signs... I think I will be able soon to resolve the mystery which has kept me busy for a long time.”

“Which mystery are you talking about?”

“The greatest of all.”

The man burst out laughing, and Tidus lost his temper:

“Are you making fun of me? What do you want? Did you come to live near Yuna or have you been transferred from Bevelle? What do want to tell me? What is the true motive behind your presence?”

“I beg your pardon if I hurt you. My life is a bit too complex to be summed up. Humans try to introduce causal relationships, but the truth is that, these links, we invent them a posteriori."

“I hate these unknown words you speak in!”

Tidus immediately regretted his words. Bria said good night to him and left.

“Sorry,” the young man murmured.

To his utter astonishment, the fisherman waved to him: he had heard him.

Tidus thought he had just gone so far as to deny Auron, to whom he owed a lot. Bria was right: the lives of some people were too complex to be summed up within a few words. And when such a person wanted to hand down the fruit of its experience, it probably expressed itself like him.

Maybe will I find myself in the same situation one day?

Remaining alone on the shore, Tidus ascended the pontoon and laid down on it, his face turned in the direction of the sky. Oppressive clouds were hiding the stars. The wind was picking up, and the water lapping against the pillars of the pier appeared to accentuate itself.

Once the Aurochs drop off the fish at the village, the banquet would begin, and Tidus could not talk to Yuna. Was it a punishment? Had someone managed to prevent the young man from seeing her? If Tidus ran into the one behind these goings-on, he would shrug it off and finally talk to the young woman. It would be so enjoyable...

"Humans try to introduce causal relationships, but the truth is that, these links, we invent them a posteriori."

Frustrated, Tidus let out a cry and tapped his foot on the boards of the pontoon. The wood returned a dull sound, but another sound, more high-pitched, metallic, answered him.

The boy stood up straight to look around him.

Vestiges of antique mechanisms remained in various locations of the island. Tidus doubted that someone knows about their initial purpose. Some of these ruins were erected near the cove like chimneys, their orange paint faded by age. A big gull was perched on the vestige nearest to the water. It was holding something between its legs and was pecking fervently at the object. The strange noise had come from it.

GONG, GONG, GONG!

Reassured, Tidus laid down once again and closed his eyes. By association of ideas, his mind opted for the Gullwings. Yuna had spent the two last years with this group made of young people, who seemed nice to her. To think that life had continued during his absence, and that his friends – Yes, even Yuna – had fun, made him feel uncomfortable. He saw again the smile of the summoner and the coloured clothes she wore from now on. She was no longer this shy seventeen-year-old, oppressed by the ordeals, that he had met two years ago, but a blooming woman.

He sighed. Would he have preferred her weeping over his disappearance? If someone had asked him the question, he might have given a positive answer... and he hated himself for that. On edge, he started to shake on the wood of the pontoon.


It was night-time, the fish was ready, yet Yuna was not there. Unsurprisingly, several elders were missing too.

“The old ladies got mixed up together once again,” Wakka murmured quietly, in order to not be heard.

He knew they had waited impatiently for the return of Yuna. All the villagers older than the young woman, Wakka included, had contributed to her blossoming, and it made them quite proud. Orphan of the High Summoner Braska, she had spent her childhood at the temple, surrounded with people with unshakeable faith. As to answer the elders' prayers, she had followed the path of her father. She had defeated Sin and had brought the long-awaited Calm back to Spira. Then the truth about Yevon's deception had been fully exposed, and the Church had collapsed.

Despite everything, elderly people continued following Yevon's teachings. "Everything they taught us is not wrong," they esteemed.

From now on, everyone was free to believe whatever they wanted. Yet the elders showed very little tolerance towards the others. To their eyes, the youth was mistaken about the way in life and had too much fun. Since always, the village had worked like a family, and the gap which was growing wider between the generations was breaking Wakka's heart.

The oldest were incapable of getting used to these disruptions. Young leaders, like Nooj and Baralai, embodied the change. Their influence had extended very fast, even to territories as distant as Besaid. A piece of information which reached villagers three days earlier was already outdated. This new era was disconcerting the elders, who had always known an immutable world.

Fortunately, Yuna had not forgotten what she owed them, and, in these vague times, they could trust the young woman.

“I wonder what they plan to do with her,” Wakka murmured.

He headed for the temple and filled his lungs with the familiar perfume, mixed with the smell of the damp stones that the building was releasing. He was happily reminded of his era of childhood.

A gift of Yevon...
« Last Edit: December 14, 2014, 04:01:44 pm by ChercheurObscur »
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