Incline 44: Vapooliar

My eyes flicker open, revealing a gentle orange evening or morning. I push my way upright, minding the bench I've seemed to have fallen asleep on. I sort of... Linger there, just sitting with an empty mind.

A yawn comes to me, breaking my thoughts open and letting words run back to me.

"Where am I?" I ask so pointlessly, keeping to the bench as I take in the extravagant view of blooming red flowers. Cored black with seeds and held aloft by thick deep green stalks. Hill after hill of them. Up and down as a gentle breeze sways them about. So close to but never into all the small, humble fires about.

I look one way, and then another. Turning all the way back to my bench so I can shift away from it. While the wood is its typical polished wood, a bit darkened by it if anything. The metal is painted black, completely so. A black that allows the light to cling to the metal, warm the metal. Metal shaped and cutted in a precise manner, in a precisely... Soldier shape.

My eyes blink away and I stagger to my feet, still dressed in my armour and clothes. My hands go down my body, taking in the sensations until they land on sharp spikes. I look down, staring intently at the steel that has been carved out of my lower half. About where my womb is and some more above.

I let go of it and walk along the precisely laid stone path. Each one carved with prayers and songs from a hundred and more different peoples. I see my own native tongue of Waionr's Wind Speak. The light-accented northern Wind Speak. Ancient Gods Speak and even the symbology of the Ancient Jhermonikra long gone and past. So many ways of talking.

So many ways of...

My thoughts wander off as my eyes catch onto an approaching figure. Though she's clothed heavily in black, utterly flowing in the wind that carries on through the meadow. Smells as sweet as a bee's honey coming along just as much as the smells of cremation and gunpowder. The latter smell stings my nose, the crack of their source going off three times in the faraway distance.

I look that way, then back to the footsteps and their maker. Their pace picks up as a feeling of familiarity overtakes me. My head tilts slightly, and I cover my brow to make sure whatever is in the sky doesn't catch me blind. The outline of the Orbital-Halo is not there, but there is daytime...

I don't know what it is.

"V-Vapooliar...? Is that you!?" a voice I never thought I would hear again goes. It echoes through my head, repeating on me so sweetly as a single place comes to mind. The Long Battery Fort. A central, commanding figure takes control of the image, a Valkinvar-Imdvarce. Wing-Head...

"Allyoceer...?" I reply back, flinching aside as another question rings in my head. Is this it? Is this the vision? The end of the vision? I... I cannot tell anymore. I've already seen so much that makes no sense and I...

"By Waionr's good graces, it is!" she chirps, rushing up to me and clinging to me with a deep hug. My heart beats with life and a smile flickers at the edges of my lips. It pulls and pulls, making my smile even greater. My arms twitch, shaking with something other than the pain that they were doing so too soon ago. I return the hug, holding her tight as I feel the warmth of a living person.

I close my eyes, only to be assailed by a single, clear image. Her death. Death... Death in battle. Her death in battle. The battle of the Long Battery Fort. Wing-Head Allyoceer is dead.

"Wh-What's going on?" I ask, gently pushing her away as her smile weakens in time with mine. I let go, and she takes a step back, looking over the hills and far away. Almost as if someone's command brought her here to begin with. A long way away.

"Lord Waionr said you would be coming." she answers, her brow settling down in sorrow as an open hand offers me one thought. A cruel backhand the other.

With all this war against the heretics, it is oddly refreshing to see the truth be... Well, the truth. Our way is the right way. The Valkinvar do go to Waionr when we die. But... That means I died.

Yet... Why am I here, anyway?

"I should not be here." I mutter, a horrible roar repeating on me without end. Though the world is not darker, my eyes suddenly lose light, anyway. Memory echoes of yellow rimmed with endless hexagons and carapaced bodies.

"Lord Waionr wants you here, Vapooliar. He wishes to speak to you," Allyoceer explains to me, cocking my brow up in surprise.

"W... Why... Why?" I struggle to ask, glancing around at the sudden realisation of what all these statues and more mean. They're graves. Funeral pyres. The lake in the distance is not teeming with boats filled with lovers and more. They're corpse cruises. An emulation of fallen sailors, marines and more.

"It would be better for him to explain. He just asked me to be your guide. He knows how much we mean to each other, after all." Allyoceer explains and I nod along, offering her the chance to take charge. She steps aside, but hooks my arm with hers to keep me nearby.

"So... It's all real, then?" I ask, seeing that she is here. I look around some more, picking up more figures in black. Womanly figures of all shapes and sizes, all distinctly honed through battle and war. Warriors the lot of them. Us.

"Honestly, I'll leave it a secret." she answers so cryptically, leaving my brow to arch up again.

"Leave it a secret...?" I dare ask, only to get an endless giggle as a response. I blink, leaning back and then coming closer again. I shake my head, not wanting anything to do with this confusion.

"You don't belong here, Vapooliar." Allyoceer tells me, her tone sweet even if her words are so strikingly different in meaning. Then they know? They all know about my shame...? Even in the afterlife?

It's... Uh, it's...

My expression takes a noticeable fall, losing any ability to smile. It's already a miserable knowledge to have my shame known by all the Valkinvar alive. But to have the dead know about it, too? Am I owed no sense of privacy? No right to isolate my secrets from the world, and what is beyond it? All-That-Remains is all we mortals have left and there're so few places to hide there, it seems.

That has to be it, what she means... I'm just here to be dishonourably removed from the realm of Honourable War himself. Shamed in the very place where it matters for eternity and more. When mortals die and then the gods do, in turn, then I shall be forgotten... My shame and more is immortal, like them.

"Trust me, Vapooliar, it's not what you think." Allyoceer assures me, her touch gentle and loving. I frown, looking her way as her grip wavers between feeling like a prison and feeling like a friend's care. I can't figure it out. Are visions meant to be this confusing...?

"Just... Just to make sure about something. I'm not experiencing a vision, am I...?" I ask, dreading the answer as her face fails to find any joy. She closes her eyes, shaking her head with some energy. And, like how we all must be, it dies.

"No. You... You died, Vapooliar. You died and..." she starts to say, her finger gently pressing on the ruined armour about my womb. I look down towards the sensation, frowning deeply as she stops prodding at my gut.

"So it was all happening..." I sigh, still not entirely sure what was a vision and what wasn't. It all happened in such a strange way. I was lapsing between reality and what never happened and... Is that what dying simply is? My memories flashing before me in an utter mess of what they are? A gruesome repetition whose sole purpose is to beckon Undwote or the other? 

Dying screams really are the whistles for those who hunt souls. No wonder so few die peacefully. To die peacefully is to wander the world with no god to cater to your soul. We are what we are and... And that is it.

"I understand it might seem like we're dawdling, Vapooliar. But, trust me, time in the land of the living is as still as it will ever be," Allyoceer assures me, her touch tightening up.

"Such is the power of the gods..." I say, her lips muttering it in repetition. 

"Indeed. Still, best not keep him waiting." Allyoceer points out, her grip tightening and her steps quickening.

"R-Right." I mutter, letting her take lead as I lose myself in the sights. Though birds sing in the trees, I cannot see them. None are flying across the sky. Somehow threatening with rain as much as it is clear and unconcerned with the feelings of the dead. Though theatre and literature would paint things one way. It's not that way, really.

Sometimes it is just... A warm, bright day even as the worst possible things happen. War will go on regardless of the rain. Regardless of the mud or the dry dust. The blood must spill and we must soak the soil however we can.

We turn a corner and then another, passing by so many sights. I want to linger and look at them, pay attention to what I can. A grim curiosity almost commands me to see if I can spot anything familiar. Dead soldiers from around the mortal world are buried here. Remembered here. It's a buffet for the curious as much as it is a daunting fear for them.

"What is it you typically do around here, Allyoceer?" I ask her, looking to pass what may or may not be the last moments of our walk together.

"We tend to the graves. Make conversation with Lord Waionr or any guests he might have over. We also care for Par'tryont when we're allowed, though, he'll be gone for a while." she explains, her grin so strange given the context.

"How so...-" I try to ask, only to have a finger seal my lips well and true.

"Try to keep your curiosity modest." she teases, giggling slightly as she gives me a gentle tap of the bum. I flinch at the motion, speeding up to prevent her from dragging me along. It seems even in death, she is still my superior. A true Wing-Head from the days of the Valkinvar making sense.

"Is that...?" I dare to ask as she lets go, relinquishing me to go ahead on my own.

"Hurry along now, Vapooliar. He'll want to speak." Allyoceer encourages me, her smile wide and white with well-kept teeth. She shoves me along, her touch gentle and forceful. My feet keep ongoing, keeping me upright as a bald man in ceremonial bronze looks about. He twists to face me, awfully lacking in what one might expect. 

He is him. He is War. Lord Waionr, the God of War and he's dressed... So peaceful. In robe of white, simple robes of white with some bronze decoration. Not a single sign about him of what should make him familiar.

Didn't he have his gear on a moment ago...?

"Valkinvar-Imdvarce Vapooliar." he says, his voice gentle yet somehow booming with world-shaking force. I flinch upright into parade posture, all the hairs on my body sticking up. 

"Ye-Yes... My L-Lord?" I answer, watching as he approaches me with an unnatural shine. It's so magic-like in the way the aura shines and yet, nothing alike at all. Where I know magic to have but six primary colours, six elements. He exudes something unlike anything I've ever heard of. 

So... This is divinity...? The power of a god?

He looks at me, right in the eye. I gulp and he offers me his hand. I slowly make my way up to it, taking it against my own with a limp grip. He tightens around my hand, shaking it once and firm.

"I banish you from my realm," he says, and my heart breaks.

"I'm sorry..." I whimper, my eyes already watering as the failure to protect my sacred virginity comes to-

"And I restore your life. Ride out in my name, save my people. War's Champion Vapooliar." Waionr declares and I blink.

My eyes open, and I find a traitor Staguiffmani rushing for me. Life breathes through my body and instinct takes over. I shoot upright, avoiding the traitor's blow and disarming her. I catch her weapon and thrust.

Her traitor blood gurgles across me and she falls down dead...

"Huh?" I let out, unable to discern how I ever accomplished like that. My hand goes to my head, only now do I realise what is on it. Yet, I refuse to take it off to ease my curiosity.

A beast growls and I spin to meet the familiar sight. A golden furred mammal. A mane like a shield around its head. Feline fury and four legs of powerful muscle and claws. A king's beast. A war beast.

Par'tryont.

A throaty grumble rumbles out of him, and he steps forward, head raised high and blood eagerly soaking his tongue. Traitor blood. I blink and step back, blinking without pause as I breathe it in. I close my eyes and suddenly find my head so clear. The ideas so perfect.

How to save the Valkinvar. I know how to save the Valkinvar!