Incline 11: Valkinvar-Imdvarce Vapooliar

Me and Brother Lavauroas arrive in the open, the morning breeze assailing our hair. We look around, as lacking in our goals as we have been for the rest of the night. I stop turning, coming face-to-face with my brother Valkinvar. He does the same, an armoured hand ruffling up his mess of hair even more so.

"Sister Dannatili is proving to be quite the elusive Valkinvar." I remark, huffing in mild annoyance as we drop to the ground. Brother Lavauroas trails far behind, the stone plates thudding with the land of his mighty beer belly. Well, beer belly for what a Valkinvar is.

"Unless a fifth Ordoar has been formed, then I am at a loss as well." the Valkinvar-Ammimpaurst shrugs, his attention lingering on anything that so much as looks like a Valkinvar-Staguiffmani. However, to our dismay, they're all just delusions or they are Valkinvar-Wiswipide instead. 

"The Order of the Elusive Annoyances?" I suggest as a mock-up name and my booze-loving friend chuckles, his wide palm smacking against the back of my armour. My leg muscles tense up in order to withstand the power of his gentle blows.

"The Order of the Stuck-Up Stickholders!" Brother Lavauroas exclaims, his mouth agape with roaring laughter.

"Certainly that as of late, aren't they?" I ask and answer back, my tongue as dry as the rainless stone that makes up the land as far as our eyes can see. Quite the powerful pairs of eyes, too, with all this magic in our systems.

"Mmm. Still, I have to agree with you, Sister Vapooliar... I'm at a complete loss as to where they all are," he breathes, his lips straightening out as he makes a point of putting his palms around a nearby statue. I linger about, watching him idly feel the stone out with his attention not being particularly anywhere but his thoughts.

"Knowing where they are is not the problem. It's finding a Sister Valkinvar who isn't needlessly hostile to our presence, regardless of how we try things. Even then, we don't need just any. Well, I don't. I'm looking for Sister Dannatili, specifically." I say, looking away so I can eye a nearby hallway and its endless tunnel of mosaic art. Tales of past victories and great members of the Valkinvar. 

It's almost all mythological in what it shows, like how the imagination interprets the deeds of ancient heroes like Thunder. Or even the Lady of Bronze, an ancient noble who was believed to have lived close to here before the war against the Singular Ones burned down her estate. Yet, that's the thing about the Valkinvar, about those who are able to reach the levels of power and diligence needed for such esteemed pedigree. Everything we inscribe or carve is realistic, incomprehensibly so. 

All Valkinvar can travel faster than sound in the blink of an eye. We can all decimate armies of lesser nations and travel the land, coast to coast. Mountains and all their mortal-carved children fall to our power. The clouds part at our presence, giving us unfettered access to the clear skies and the Orbital-Halo so very far beyond that. 

All this power and we're... Here, in Thurn's Forge and not out in our former lands. Fighting for it and everything we are. It makes no sense and no matter how many times the details play by my mind's eye and my focus... It never changes. It makes no sense, none of it does.

"You know... It might be worth looking for someone else if you seek answers. You'd have as much luck as getting an answer from them as a Valkinvar-Staguiffmani, though." Brother Lavauroas explains and I look his way, my eyes slightly wide at the suggestion.

"Who?" I ask and I follow his arm as it rises, lancing my attention through the nearest window and towards the other half of Thurn's Forge. I approach the window, opening it to its furthest hinge, and I think longingly about the sight. Thurnmourer-Thunlanann, the half of the city where most of the people live.

The Great Bridge might not be as busy as it tends to be at the busiest times of the day, but it's never truly quiet. Even at the height of the Siege of Thurn's Forge, the people of the city came back and forth to us, trusting in our power. Even as the impossible assailed us, shimmering the strength out of the city's shield. A sight I feel we will more than likely to see again at our current instructions and orders.

"The restraints regarding all of the Valkinvar filling out the city is true of the higher ups, too. Eurultus-Valkinvar Pymonsia can be found over there most of the time, from what I've managed to pick up in the grand-cycles since the Long Battery Fort." Brother Lavauroas explains, opening my mouth wide with a slight smile.

Of course!

"The Valkinvar of the Eastern-Orange Wind!" I let out, the lengthier title of our mutual, but not direct superior, coming to mind. 

"Mmm, that's the one. It might be worth making your way over to Thurnmourer-Thunlanann. Take your questions for Sister Dannatili and instead taking them directly to her. If luck is at your side and well-sheathed on your belt, you will find her quickly. If not, you at least have some idea of where to find her compared to Sister Dannatili. Far less space to watch, too." Brother Lavauroas wisely puts it and I nod along, looking for an opening in the immediate building.

I find such a spot and rush for it, heading out of my fellow Valkinvar's sight. He gives chase, catching up with my limited excitement in no time. His grip settles on my wrist, pulling me back for no real reason. I turn his way, huffing and snatching my arm back as he shakes his head.

"Slow down before you get mistaken for an enemy airship." Brother Lavauroas jests and I give him a smirk underneath my helmet.

"I doubt that will happen." I say back to him, floating back as he puts on a short-lived act of aggression.

"You never know, so much odd stuff happens here these cycles that you can't help but think it." Brother Lavauroas huffs as his mind wanders elsewhere. Far faster than his loose, surveying gaze is.

"Perhaps. Still, I should probably head out-" I start to say, only to slow to a halt as I shiver in flight.

"You still have yet to get used to how taxing it is to fly in such a magic dense environment?" Brother Lavauroas snickers and I shake my head.

"No, no... Ok, maybe a little." I giggle, guiding us down to the easiest path towards the start of the Great Bridge. My brother Valkinvar joins me, keeping up with me despite his attention clinging to the Redstone Canyon.

Silence comes between us, joining us on our early morning trek. I try to follow my brother Valkinvar's gaze, but as I am a halfman or two further than him, it's hard to say. I doubt I'd see much, anyway. Even at the highest peaks of noon, the Redstone Canyon is still an endless abyss of darkness. Not quite as deep as the Continent of Fire, though it certainly lacks the volcanic light of such land. 

Such darkness is fitting for our situation, though. No one ever likely considered the idea that the empire of the Valkinvar would end here, right where it started. But an endless pit of nothing is certainly a place to have your back up against. Though we can fly, the symbology will no doubt live on like so many other great deeds and battles. We name things in such awkward ways, really, choosing what simply sounds nicer than what is the reality.

History may exist here as far back as the Age of Heroes, when men like Thunder roamed. Before Thunlanann became the endless wasteland it is now. But even we, where so much of it happened are, do not take it quite all that seriously. At least, not as seriously as the exaggerations and stereotypes take us.

Thurn's Forge is perhaps the only place where such a mythological moment ever happened. The spilling of the blood of the God of Creation into the clay-pits of Thunlanann. From there, the first mortals, the first humans. Claymen.

Yet can we even be sure any of that happened? This bridge could simply be the work of marvellous minds of a time long gone. Ironically, from a period far closer to us than the Age of Heroes was. This could all be a work of the Ancient Jhermonikra, our ancestors, before the Age of Liquid Mountains doomed them to eventually become us.

Perhaps it is in this strange history of our land that the Seven-Peaks Union of Jherikra found the answer to our war with them. The answer that has allowed them to destroy our empire and reduce it to its mighty capital. As much of a fortress as it has ever been, but stripped of all the gold, velvet and pearls that surrounded this gem in the crown. A gem we shall colour as red as a ruby with our blood as we die in the siege that is to come. In the battle that will end us if we carry on acting in such baffling idiocy and ignorance.

This dark abyss, however, it might be simply nothing more than that. A dark abyss I must travel over. I will part ways with my homeland and go to the other continent our people have laid claim to. In Thurnmourer-Thunlanann, I will be able to perhaps reconnect with an old friend. At least, I hope she saw me in that way.

Eurultus-Valkinvar Pymonsia is a kind woman, one that has a history of showing me much love even in the face of overwhelming adversity. Even as my name sank, as far as this abyss will go, she was encouraging me to commit to the life of the Valkinvar. Perhaps such kindness will allow me to at least have some way of opening her up to me. Something, anything to reassure the nonsense I've had to endure the other cycle.

Anything at all to make sense of the military blunders that anyone with a malformed brain can figure out...

"Brother Lavauroas." I say, breaking the silence and hooking my old friend's attention with a hook as strong as the finest steels made in our forges.

"Hm?" he lets out to show me that I have his full attention. I look away slightly, a hefty blow coming through my nose as my thoughts initially overwhelm me on the way to my tongue.

"Thank you for your help so far. I won't keep you any longer if you feel bound in any way." I tell him and he shakes his head, his smile growing wider than any flower might bloom. Just as sweet, too.

His dominant hand settles on my opposing shoulder and he rattles me back and forth, "Nonsense, I'm here because you've given me something to do other than toil in a quarry!"

"Honestly, that sounds far more interesting than what I am doing. You can at least make a competition out of labour like that. It's good, honest work, too! Snooping around should be beneath a Valkinvar. It's so unnecessary in our history and now it's all we can really do." I say, losing the joy on my face with every word that comes out of my mouth. His falls apart, too, an unfortunate side effect of us being what we are. Mortal.

"Hold strong, Sister Vapooliar. Hold strong and determined like you did at the Long Battery Fort. Remember, you've got a history of not letting us fall to our baseless senses." Brother Lavauroas assures me and my emotions yield to stronger ones. Positive ones.

I give him a slight smile, one that is renewed in its sense of purpose and strength. His hand comes off, only to strike back down with a confident pat and shake. We start to part ways and I linger at the start of a small path that leads to the Great Bridge. I look his way, staring as he remains where he is. He never even tried to part ways. It was me alone that did.

"Yeah... Just like at the Long Battery Fort." I say, recalling the events of such a siege. I re-joined the war after grand-cycles of humiliating absence. I saved dozens of my sisters and this here brother. Thousands of men, ironcoats and all. I even conquered my fear of the airships. I broke my first sword to shatter one down to the earth like the men who made it.

"Go on now, regardless of what the reality is. You earned your title, Sister Vapooliar." Brother Lavauroas tells me and I smirk, picking up on that clever bit of snark in his words.

"Careful now, Valkinvar-Ammimpaurst! This Valkinvar-Imdvarce is eager to prove herself!" I call out, running off down the steps as his laughter gives chase.

"FIGURE THIS ALL OUT, YOU HEAR!?" Brother Lavauroas demands of me as short-lived determination settles across my features. As I rush across the Great Bridge, it fades away... The reality of the 'Great' Bridge settling in.