"Ah, Sister Vapooliar, I was hoping to catch up to you again!" Sister Pymonsia says, her gentle flight coming to an end. Its announcement as joyous as the giggles she can't help but spill out into the increasingly empty chamber. I turn her way, looking away from all the engravings and statues that line the chamber. Testaments to all that the Valkinvar are.
Or, were if the current war effort means anything...
"O-Oh... Uh, I wasn't lingering around for you." I chuckle nervously, just in case she misread my intentions. I had wanted to make the most of my visit to this chamber, as I am sure something will come up before I can ever come here again.
"No worries, then. You shall join me in this rare opportunity to see what I have grown tired of," she tells me, whispering the last half against my ear. Her half-armoured arm slips around my steel, tugging me close. Her hip bashes against mine and another giggle leaves her.
"Shall we?" I ask, letting her take the lead as we join some of the last Valkinvar in leaving the chamber. Though, unlike them, we keep to the ground floor and instead make our way through the gates Sister Pymonsia previously used. If they have an official name, I am not sure. But, calling them the Gates of the Eurultus-Valkinvar couldn't be any more apt a choice if I tried.
It's certainly nothing short of spectacular with how well decorated it is. Taking on so many different inspirations from across the Eastern Orange Wind's path throughout the world. Curiously, despite the winds all converging back to the True Emerald Wind, the story the walls tell is inverted. Perhaps it is meant to say that the True Emerald Wind only exists when the four Points of the Compass are gathered?
"So... I take it that I am not going to learn anything new here in privacy such as this, either?" I ask, tempting fate even as we come across some honour guards occupying various crevices. Sister Pymonsia shakes her head, tutting the joy out of her voice. A severe outlook takes over her features, though her posture keeps its relaxed nature.
"Nice try, Sister Vapooliar. But, no. Anything you learn must come of your own thoughts." Sister Pymonsia reminds me again and I nod away, understanding the situation almost perfectly.
"Perhaps you can offer me some kind of explanation regarding something I learned from a Valkinvar-Staguiffmani?" I ask, and she looks my way, brow arching up as high as it can go.
"One of the higher ups?" she asks back, her voice predatory with implications. I suppose she gnashing at the neck for a chance to do something to the Zaphadren-Valkinvar. If her earlier bitterness meant anything.
"No, Sister Dannatili. The one I was looking for before I managed to find you." I answer, not all that sure where Sister Dannatili ranks in the grand scheme of things. I've only ever known so much about her in that she is a Valkinvar-Staguiffmani. A former Wing-Joint of mine from our time during the Siege of the Long Battery Fort.
"And what did she speak of?" Sister Pymonsia asks, her voice gentle and polite. Though her face is anything but. It's demanding, as any strained mind might be.
"She spoke of some plans regarding the war. Mostly about how she and many other Valkinvar-Staguiffmani are investigating the movements of the enemy. On top of that, they're conducting many rescue operations for any stranded Valkinvar." I explain and my body flies back on its next step. Sister Pymonsia's unyielding strength not allowing me to go anywhere but where I am.
"Typical..." she growls, an uncountable mess of frustrations otherwise locked and chained to the confines of her mind.
"The Zaphadren-Valkinvar has been keeping the other Ordoars in the dark about this?" I ask and Sister Pymonsia remains silent, a glare forming on her face. I look away, nodding my understanding as it becomes perfectly apparent what the situation is. She cannot answer me directly, but I can infer what I need to know.
"To think the temple speaks of my efforts in Thurnmourer-Thunlanann to be a waste of time." Sister Pymonsia huffs, her charity work in the civilian half of the city a fresh memory for us both.
"I can understand that. Sister Dannatili did say they were only able to recover fallen sisters and brothers for the most part. She made a point of saying how many had fallen by the hands of the heretics and their war-witches, however." I say, passing on some more information from what my former comrade was willing to pass onto me.
"Much as it is unfortunate to say, if such things are as common as you say they are, then there's no point in continuing. The war effort needs we Valkinvar, at full strength. Too much reconnaissance and rallying, and we risk the chances we do have for meagre gains. Victory will rally the isolated monasteries to our cause as much as finding them will, too. Though... Why the Zaphadren-Valkinvar has seen fit to use only her Ordoar to find the holdings of Ammimpaurst, Imdvarce and Wiswipide is beyond me." Sister Pymonsia goes on at length, long enough for us to exit the tunnel and find ourselves on an almost crystalline walkway.
I glance down at the reinforced glass and what may actually be smoothed and perfectly cut emeralds. A noise catches in my throat and Sister Pymonsia releases me, allowing me to walk freely. I go into the air again, twisting around to watch as she goes through the effort of letting her hair flow more freely for the time being. With so much catching on the wind, it's a wonder she doesn't fly off into the distant, vanishing halolight.
"I hope you understand what our situation is, Sister Vapooliar." Sister Pymonsia sighs on out and I blink. Slowly working up the strength to at least nod in some understanding.
"The Cycle of Screaming Witches must have scarred itself deep into the Ordoar Staguiffmani..." I mutter, not sure what to think of the strange imbalances that near entirely rotate around them. Sister Pymonsia sighs again, nodding much the same as I.
"Whatever affected them that cycle, also affected the rest of us. I am losing my patience with her, as are the other two Points of the Compass. Whatever the Zaphadren-Valkinvar is planning, she needs to make it clear to us while there still remains an opportunity for us to act on it." Sister Pymonsia lets out, giving her frustrations at least one pair of ears that will listen.
"If need be, Sister Pymonsia. The unthinkable might have to be enacted if we are to save Thurn's Forge." I say, glancing south as my historical inspiration comes to mind. Whatever has happened to the Dual-Republic of Thrurstradtur-Suhurlodst since the Cycle of Screaming Witches is a mystery. If it still exists is another one we will find out at some point. But, right now, as they are in my mind, is all I need them as.
From a kingdom to a republic, all because of past incompetence and ineffectual governance. That is how they came to be. A kingdom that lasted generations but still fell all the same. Much the same way, Jherikra has given way to the Seven-Peaks Union of the same. The Valkinvar must change at some point, too.
Perhaps, in a moment of grandest irony, too. We were founded in war. We made our name in it and we have persevered through it. Yet it is also in war that we are finding our extinction awaiting us. What once gave us so much life is now choking us and we don't even have the comfort of it being in our beds, leaving us so clueless as to it happening. We know we're losing our life and yet we don't make any attempt to correct it.
"Sister Vapooliar, it has been lovely to see you again. You've certainly added a moment of flair to an otherwise pointless meeting of the Valkinvar's leadership." Sister Pymonsia tells me, interrupting my thoughts.
"Of course!" I chirp, my face burning with embarrassment and who knows what else. I've still not quite figured out why I did what I did earlier, but it thankfully hasn't grown into a dangerous situation.
"Be careful of what you say, however. Keep your thoughts only to those you trust with your life beyond the expectations of a Valkinvar. Do not *ever* speak again of such implications of change. It's dangerous talk even in times of peace." Sister Pymonsia cautions, her voice nothing short of a mother warning her beloved child.
"Of course, Eurultus-Valkinvar Pymonsia." I answer, saluting her with a chop to my matrimonial scar. Her expression softens to what makes her so beloved, and she replicates the motion.
"Be safe, Sister Vapooliar. Go and get yourself some rest, now. You've been flying around an awful lot as of late." Sister Pymonsia tells me, her fingers blowing me a gentle kiss of affection that is more physical than the typical gesture. Her gift of magic goes through my lips, swelling my lungs with renewed strength. I watch her leave, shrinking to a strangely beautiful star in the distance. At least, something capable of perhaps imitating the dead god's pride and joy.
I blink harshly, feeling a buzzing feeling in my eyelids. My shoulders shrug and a yawn catches in my throat. She is right, though. I was up all night looking for Sister Dannatili and now I've been on an endless journey throughout the day and perhaps more if my time near the artefact was longer than I recall... Either way, I suppose I should find my old Wing again, give them some clarifications to their own curiosity.
Perhaps I can start a rumour of my own to give my investigation some camouflage?
"A comfortable bed should make my thoughts easier to come by," I mutter, flying with a sudden burst of power and sliding down onto the appropriate path to the barracks. However, the lack of potential collisions couldn't be any more apparent if it tried. No sisters or brothers of any of the Ordoars, in fact.
The paths around my barracks hall are empty. Devoid of life, much like the lands outside of the city are either side of the Great Bridge and the Redstone Canyon. There's no late cycle revelry breaking the silence indoors, either. It's all ominously quiet.
"The rest of the day has been a vision...?" I ponder, walking ahead anyway as my mind returns to the Crown of Conceptual War. Is the answer perhaps in the artefact's name? Perhaps I never even left the room at all and I have just been walking around aimlessly.
No... Such magic and power should be impossible.
"Well, I guess the answer will become clear in the morning if I somehow manage to sleep." I say, walking into the silent barracks and finding it utterly deserted. My frown settles in, heavy as boulders wrapped in black iron chains. One hand twitches eagerly for my blade, yet the other calls for calm. What dangers could there possibly be in the heart of Valkinvar territory? Within the very Grand Temple of the Four-Winded Valkinvar itself!
It's a ludicrous paranoia, but so much absurdity is happening to the Valkinvar as of late it might just be true. Such a strange thing to consider, actually, the idea that Thurn's Forge is already breeched. The shield never collapsed, and the walls did not fall. But the enemy is in all the same, our unyielding, heretical enemy.
"Oh, a pile of armour near my bed. I wonder..." I let out, happy to know I'm not the only one in the barracks at this odd point of the cycle. Actually, seems like they've put their armour on my bed. I suppose it's an excuse for conversation, anyhow. To think it really was just a strange occurrence...
I stop at the end of the bed and stare at where my name plaque should be.
"Ogawa..." I read, my eyes trembling without pause at what has been clawed into my name plaque. I walk closer to the bed, taking in the details of the armour I wore at the Siege of the Long Battery Fort. This is the gear of our fallen sister, the Valkinvar-Imdvarce Ogawa... Why is her gear here...? Why is any of this happening?
Why!?
"I thought we had moved past this." I grumble, taking up the helmet of the armour I was wearing throughout my time from my return to Giant's Victory. To my return to here. Sister Uala already gave me enough grief in the siege, and that unexplained hatred only grew when I first came back to Thurn's Forge. Who could've-
The sounds of conversation suddenly come into earshot, and the pathways somehow find themselves full again.
"What in the name of the gods and goddesses!?" I let out, squeaking in terror as I suddenly find myself trapped with the desecrated remains of a butchered sister on my bed!