Author Topic: ~ FFX-2.5 : The Price of Eternity ~ French to English Translation  (Read 49268 times)

CrystalOfLies

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Re: ~Eternal Cost~: French to English Translation
« on: February 03, 2015, 01:25:05 pm »
Chapter 10
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   It was soon noon. Valm knew it because of the length of the shadow he was projecting.

   Standing on an air duct, he was taking advantage of this privileged place to contemplate the gathering of his comrades. They were ninety-five to sixty-three men and thirty-two women - sixteen years old for the youngest, twenty-five for the oldest. Valm was twenty-three.

   “Look at them, Sloan pointed out, who was the eldest. They're so harsh! I like it.”

   “That's right. But what about breakfast?”

   For the second time in the space of a few minutes, Valm's stomach pointed himself out loudly to him. He had not eaten anything since the explosion, the night before.

   “Could you really swallow something?” Sloan whispered.

   Valm remembered that the man had just said good bye to his little brother, and lowered his eyes.

   “Sorry.”

   With a curt smile, his friend gave him a tap on his shoulder:

   “You really have no shame! Go eat discreetly and come back when you'll be done.”

   On these words, Sloan joined the Guards’ circle in order to thank them for all of their gestures of solicitude and their pledges of revenge he had received during the obsequies of his brother. He kept his head stooped a long moment, but when he stood up straight, his attitude had completely changed.

   “We can't afford to lose more summoners. From now on, there're only two. What will we do, if we can't protect them?”

   Originally, they were five on the island. Six months later, the Guards had lost Mikka and Kanaela. And this morning, Anli. Now, there are only Kush and Ifahnal. (Note: Ifahnal is French for Ifarnal.)

   Bevelle was continuing to produce mechanical weapons, and the city appeared to have reached new heights in terms of technical prowess. Armoured units and heavy infantry corps were moving towards Zanarkand, destroying everything on their path. Day after day, the Guards were receiving news about their spectacular progression. But the worst fear of the Mages from Zanarkand, father and daughter, was not the ingenuity of a worker clan.  They were dreading above all people who possessed the same capacities as them: summoners. They were sending murderer after murderer to the island. To this day, twenty-eight Guards had been killed during skirmishes.

   “We're going to form two squads,” Sloan announced. “Line up by ten!”

   The order was carried out immediately.

   “Lines one to eight: search section, under my command. Kat, form the units!”

   The concerned one, who was standing in the front line, stuck out her chest.

   “Yes, sir!” she answered really loudly.

   “Lines nine and ten,” Sloan continued, “you guard the base. When you meet the ten comrades left on-site, you'll be under Valm's orders. Your priority: to protect the summoners. Go!”

   “Alright...” Valm whispered.

   He jumped from his vantage point and came closer to his men.

   “We're going to return to the base immediately. Be careful along the way. Kill the enemy as soon as you see them. Woman or child, I don't care: no hesitation! We mustn't repeat the errors of the past.”

   “Yes, sir!” the fifteen Guards answered all together.
   One day, a young boy had washed up on the island. Thinking he was a refugee, the men had brought him into their refectory. There, the child had detonated himself. The summoner Mikka had met his death in this attack.

   Valm and his comrades have had to gather Mikka's remains, dispersed by the bomb. When Valm remembered the scenery, he felt the anger building inside him, and could not help himself to appeal to the divinity of vengeance. He used the violence of this feeling to dissimulate his relief: Mikka was preferable to Kush.

      Back in the base, he sent a subaltern picking up a portion for himself. He devoured it while patrolling around gate number zero. In accordance with what will happen, he may be closing it off. He commanded the young Gekkoh and Romand to arrange visiospheres around the gates numbers one to five.

   Protected with enormous building stones, the gate number zero was not afraid of bombs. In order to hide the ensemble, an assembly of steel tubes was supporting an artificial vegetation. From a faraway point, the place looked like a forest plot. You had to pass under the scaffolding to reach the gate. The other exits opened in many places in the island, at the ends/extremities of the underground air ducts. From the outside, they took different shapes in order to blend into the landscape, but from the inside, all of them had the same structure. The ventilator, controlled from the control room, carried out the primary function of the pipe. But with his sharp blades, it prevented also all intrusion. When a Guard had to pass, a control panel allowed it to stop the helix thanks to a secret code modified every day.

   Valm passed the gate number zero and entered the stateroom. The round room was big enough to receive the whole personnel of the island, with the exception of the Bedohls. The stone statues, representing the divinities, lined up against the wall. Their vacant looks converged at the centre of the room, on the altar. The room hosted both ceremonies like baptisms or marriages and business meeting. Behind the altar, long stairs led to the inner gate number zero and the living area. The exits numbers one and two were located under the steps. Valm started to go up. At the same time, the gate number one opened, revealing a passage for Kush. This hall led to the armoury, to the workshop of the Bedohls workers and to their dormitory. Even lower should be located the machineries of the base. What could she be doing in such a mucky place? She had the right to go there, but...

   When Valm opened his mouth to call Kush, a hand grabbed the young woman by the wrist and pulled her violently.

   Valm rushed immediately to her, but Kush was already reappearing from behind the door. With an energising gesture, she was rubbing her lips up with her right glove. She ceased as soon as she noticed Valm's presence.

   “Is everything okay?” the Guard asked.

   She avoided his eyes and did not answer. At that time, Valm saw the person who had grasped the young woman: Ifahnal.
   A young eighteen-year-old summoner – one year younger than Kush -, his massive figure was not due to fighting or working, but to bodybuilding. He liked putting it on display with skin-tight clothes. His face was rather ordinary, those you forget right away.

   He must be conscious of it. His muscle structure, his getup and the red dye he used to colour his hair represented as many attempts to rectify this "problem". But these efforts only brought to him the contempt of the Guards. Even the name he chose – Ifahnal, divinity of beauty -, sparked off criticisms and mockeries. The summoner did not inspire respect at all. Valm often thought that it would have been to the boy's advantage to show his self as more down-to-earth.

   But he was a part of the most important persons inside the base. Almost a hundred Guards had sworn to protect him at the risk of their life. What else may he want?

   What Valm had just come upon shed a new light on Ifahnal's behavior: he could not care less about the respect of the Guards. Only the interest of the young woman was important for him.

   Seemingly, he had not obtained it yet. And Valm would make sure that it remains like this.

   “Is there something wrong?” he asked. “The situation is serious, and we don't have time for quarrels. If you have a problem, you must settle it as quickly as possible.”

   Ifahnal ignored the question:

   “The mechanical Bedohl is ready.”

   It was plainly a way to change the subject and avoid conflict, but Valm could not ignore the news:

   “Great.”

   Ifahnal smiled:

   “He has memorised my voice. Do you want me to call it? Armoured Bedohl, get out of there!”

   The boy seemed as proud as if he himself had created the false Bedohl. As for Kush, she had placed herself behind Valm, as if hiding. As if staying as far as possible from Ifahnal.

   The Bedohl appeared. It was as tall as Kush. Dressed with dark-yellow cotton, his head was covered with a hood, and his face was dissimulated behind glasses and a gas mask. At first glance, he appeared to not be able to fight and vanquish their enemies.

   “Is that…?”

   “It is,” Alb replied.

   The old man had climbed the stairs behind his creation.

   “It's not perfect yet, but...”

   Contrary to what his words were suggesting, Alb was radiating proud. Of the corner of his eye, Valm saw Ifahnal slipping away, a smile on his face. The Guard decided to focus on the false Bedohl. He would have a little discussion with the summoner later.

   “It doesn't seem really robust. Can it fight?”

   Valm brandished his sabre, and the Bedohl cringed.

   “Do you understand what I'm saying?”

   The machine nodded slowly.

   “In accordance with the specifications,” Alb précised, who was sticking out his chest.

   “In this case, unsheathe!” Valm ordered.

   The creature brought out a whip and twirled it around. The end of the string was drawing a confused outline. The Bedohl was not able to do battle. Valm supposed that the little verbal dispute which occurred this morning had incited him to unveil his work before its completion.

   He does not understand, the Guard thought with bitterness. We do not want it to obey us for the pleasure to see it give in. We need an effective weapon.

   “All of this is absurd,” he declared.

   With one blow of his sabre, he cut off the hand which was holding the whip. Blood gushed from the maimed member.

   Alb grasped the Bedohl by the elbow and pulled it.

   “I'm bringing it back to the workshop,” he apologized. “The final model will use a firearm. Chains and whips are problematic; you need to deal with the space around you in order to use them.”

   “He'll never reach the required level of precision to aim correctly. I'd prefer that it use throwing weapons. As for blood, is it compulsory?”

   A scarlet puddle had formed on the ground.

   “A ruse, to deceive the enemy. Yourself wondered if it was alive, right?”

   “How many units can you produce?”

   “Fifty units in the three next days. Maybe more.”

   Valm was pleasantly surprised by the answer.

   “We haven't hung around at the workshop,” Alb added with a provocative tone.
                                 
   He seemed offended.

   “Call them ‘worker Bedohls’. And remove the blood, or change its colour. Else the enemy won't be the only one deceived. I don't want ours to think that a comrade is hurt and take unnecessary risks. From faraway, they must look humans. Closely, the illusion is superfluous.”

   Valm was realizing that the ultimate soldier whom he hoped for so much was just a dream. For the moment, he would be bound to content himself with a pseudo Bedohl, with too realistic blood.

   “Tell us what is happening outside, Valm,” Kush spoke. “Is the enemy here?”

   “I think that's the case. But Sloan and his men will seek and destroy it. To do justice to his brother, he'll do his name the honour.”

   Sloan was the god of vengeance.

   “Then, are we safe?”

   “For the time being, yes. I would prefer that you hide in an individual refuge. Send word to Ifahnal... No, I'm going to tell him that myself.”

   They climbed the stairs in an embarrassed silence to the inner gate number zero and the living area.

   “Has something happened with Ifahnal?” Valm asked the young woman.

   “Yes, but nothing which could bother you. I will settle the problem with him. I wonder about how to react after having lost so many summoners... The best would be to send to us people to replace them, but do vous think that it will happen?”

   A ship must come to resupply them seven days later. But even if it transported personnel to ensure its safety, Valm did not think that they would agree to stay on the island.  After all, their line management, already aware of their situation, had not announced anything.

   “Reinforcements? I don't think so. According to the rumour, more and more people hide their summoner gift.”

   “They will go to hell,” she declared lightly.

   He understood that she wanted to change the subject.

   “Say, Valm, what would happen if someone sent to us a new female Summoner? Gentle, sensual, with a beautiful bosom..."

        "She wouldn't fail to find voluntaries to become her Aeon Cores.”

   “Men are so simple!” Kush answered with a theatrical sigh.

   Kush was the goddess of abundance. With her slender figure, the woman who had taken her name on was, just like Ifahnal and his personal aesthetic, often victim of mockeries.

   “You're right,” Valm answered. “And thanks to that, you'll remain mine.”
« Last Edit: February 03, 2015, 01:47:13 pm by ChercheurObscur »
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