"Go on ahead, Sister Vapooliar. I'll handle this." Sister Pymonsia assures me as whatever quarrel the pair are having continues to escalate. The Zaphadren-Valkinvar's mood shifts, or, rather, plasters itself differently. She offers me a wave and a smile, her eyes closed as cringe lines filled with contempt are directed at someone.
I hastily make my way out of the Chamber of Traitor's Judgement, the noise within exploding as the door closes. A hefty breath escapes me and my nerves run around, an unending shock finally finding its end. I linger in the halls, listening in on the dulled echoes that only tell me one thing. Disagreement.
I certainly heard plenty of details, but whatever is going on between those two leaders of the Valkinvar is not for my ears. Still, it does not bode well for anything that is going on, my present situation being considered irrelevant. If the Points of the Compass cannot agree on a strategy at all, then we will not win this war. It seemed so simple in years past, but now the current means are not good enough.
The Valkinvar have prided themselves on their lack of beurearacy holding us back, though that now seems as far-fetched as anything. A deceitful pride that was as blinding as it was unfounded. We didn't lack a congested political system, we simply grew too confident in our current ideas for the war. Then the airships came and broke that insidious unity.
I come to a stop along a wall sustained by lines of blocky art and finely detailed pillars. Stories and names of heroes going up and down them without an end in sight. So carefully and cleverly made to make the stories seem infinite, even when they have their ends. An endless tapestry, carved right into the stone and into the next bits without a loss of words or thought.
My mouth shifts about, straightening up and stretching my lips in as fine a line as they can go. Uncomfortable forts besiege it, dragging it down to something miserable as a stutter hits my lungs. Heavy blinks sluggishly make their way across my eyes. My head tilts down, finding an odd comfort in the simple rock.
It seems like such a simple question to answer. What problems should I focus on? The Valkinvar's failing war effort or my own personal ones? The answer seems so weighted towards the former and yet the latter is so overwhelming.
I'm bearing the mark of Sister Pymonsia's authority, and now I've only caused her pain and more trouble. Even if the Zaphadren-Valkinvar is targeting her over things that are entirely separate. It's hard to see it that way. Everything feels too aligned with each other, like one incident is feeding into another and only exasperating the issue.
In order to solve one, I've created another and something sinister is turning sister against sister. It can't be me. I'm trying to save my home. Yet, this is all circling around me. It's all escalating around me.
"What am I...?" I let out, looking away from my uninteresting centre of attention and towards the sky. A figure makes his way across it, a clear member of the Valkinvar-Ammimpaurst. A slight hope lights up in me, and it grows brighter. The figure drops so close to me, his magic keeping him from breaking anything with such a sudden drop.
"Sister Vapooliar..." Brother Lavauroas goes, his voice not booming with anything one might call excitement or joy. I nod in greeting, lazily stepping up into the wall and then into the air. A distance remains between us, but not one born of animosity. I... I just want some space.
"I take it you've heard, too." I mutter, not sure why I'm still bothered by this. I've been in a fight because of it. Nearly lost my life because of it and even ended up in the dungeons for it. Gods and goddesses above, we're right by the Chamber of Traitor's Judgement!
It's the second time I've been there as of recent memory for things that don't fit the name and...
"I don't know why it's bothering me." I let out, my thoughts incomplete for the most part. Brother Lavauroas keeps silent, his usual boisterous voice nowhere to be heard and found.
"Come. Come then, Sister Vapooliar. Perhaps some food and rest will ease your worries?" Brother Lavauroas suggests and I freeze up. The sudden change in breeze. An aggressive one, catches me and floats me away.
"It will be busy." I say, the obvious problem not needing any explanation at all. He approaches me, his physical sense of presence comforting me in the absence of any contact. Not that he will leave me hanging, and his gift of a smile certainly grows one on my face. I look to his firm grip on my shoulder, and follow the arm.
"You'll have me. The others, too," he says, tugging at me to get us moving.
"Osses, Bsess and Cetrepe?" I ask, wanting to make sure I understand this properly. He nods again.
"Indeed! They've already picked out a table, and I went out to look for you while they kept it safe."
"Touching." I say, putting some unwanted sarcasm into the heart of the moment. A blood clot if there ever was one, though hardly magic in its origins.
"It very much is. You should be proud of the bonds you have forged in battle with us!" Brother Lavauroas reminds me, ignoring my tone completely. My smile comes back, making me nod along with its energetic wants.
I try my best to keep the smile and fly after my... Friend. Not just my brother Valkinvar, but my friend. We're going right to three more of them. Not just my former subordinates, but my three other friends from the Long Battery Fort. I'm sure Sister Allyoceer would be proud of me, helping to keep these four in particular alive. It's hard to say about the others from the siege she died in, but, outside of Sister Uala, I cannot recall their names. Not at the moment, anyway.
It's comforting to know that, really, much as it was never really doubted before now. Circumstances, however, make the mind and heart a tender thing. Knowing people are there for you and at your side is a potent, powerful thing. Isolation is a horrifying experience I have had too much of.
Giant's Victory may have been a safe city, once upon a time, but I was the only Valkinvar. What happened so soon after left me alone again, in that hive with the osibindah. Then Nin found me and Vadei came into the picture and... Thrurstradtur-Suhurlodst was an odd experience of both. Amusingly fitting, given what the dual-governed country is.
"So... What exactly do you know right now?" I ask, grimly curious as to what he does know about my current situation. It's an exercise in stress, but I need to accustom myself to it. There is no simple and easy solution of walking away, not even in the Valkinvar. I need to try, painful as it might end up being.
"It's hard to say, word of mouth being what it is, regardless. Sometimes, I have to say, I really do miss slobbering across the old monastery, drunk as any other typical pub goer." Brother Lavauroas answers modestly at first, his tone quickly picking up the pitch as he recalls his old habits. I scoff affectionately.
"You certainly didn't miss it all that much when *you* destroyed it." I point out to him, getting a rude gesture for the trouble that sparks a giggle off inside of me.
"There it is!" he cheers, happy for something positive coming from me.
"Shut up." I say, coming down to the ground with him as the feast hall comes into view. The crowd isn't particularly dense at this point of the cycle, but it's hardly quiet, either. Still, I suppose I should count my blessings. At least no one seems to recognise me for all the trouble it saves me.
"This way." Brother Lavauroas urges, directing me quite physically the moment the opportunity comes. We cling to the edges of the feast hall. The unfortunate disappointment of staying far and away from the cooking food not lost on either of us. Thankfully, there's plenty of decorative fruit trees and vegetable patches on our path, anyway. The odd little beehive tucked away in it all, too. Potent little insects... Able to hurt a Valkinvar.
"Sister Va-!" Cetrepe calls out, seeing us, her mouth instantly getting covered.
"Wing-Head!" Bsess stresses to our fellow sister as her excitement gets the better of her.
"Lying already, Sister Bsess?" I tease, finding myself a comfortable spot out of view. Osses plumps herself down next to me, trapping me in the spot as far as shifting my seating is concerned.
"It's better than you know..." she mutters, a pout coming to her face as Cetrepe puts her energy into taking my attention to the table.
"We weren't quite sure what to get seeing as we had to do a little thinking, but we decided on..." she rambles on and on, her hand locking itself around the knob-like handle of the tray's cover. She reveals the prize within, a wave of steam coming out with as much flavour as the elongated dish is keeping inside of it.
"Pot pie." I go, nodding at the fine choice of a gravy-rich pastry. Admittedly, I like my meats isolated from such things to give me full control of their flavour. But, I can certainly stomach a pie easier than I can everything else that has been going on as of late. Just a shame the crust has already been pierced and a portion has gone into someone's mouth.
An accusatory burp somehow finally makes its way out of Brother Lavauroas, the crumbs in his beard appearing out of nowhere. His smile grows, and he knocks on the table as he occupies himself with a half-empty drink. My smile comes back and I sit quietly as my three other friends return to whatever conversation they were having. My sisters-in-arms going at it, making noise that I know full well the meaning of but cannot quite hear clearly.
A metal ladle dives into the large dish, and it drips away with gravyfalls and spilling out diced veg. My bowl swells with the warmth of a full meal, and it comes back before me. A small kindness already getting my spoon nice and ready for a portion that yearns for my mouth. I huff, blowing at the hot food as an odd sight catches my eyes.
"Have... Have the Ordoar Staguiffmani been different as of late?" I ask, noting an odd amount of such Valkinvar on the tables near to ours. At least they're all in one direction, though. Front, to the slight left front, and to the slight right front. No one behind but those beyond the feast hall walls. Thick, impervious redstone walls at that.
"N-No, why?" Osses goes, looking up from her food with confusion that quickly makes way for a scowl. Her eyes narrow and the others tense up as well. Have those who call themselves Valkinvar-Staguiffmani been causing problems since the incident...?
"Talk about a freak sighting. First time I've seen them in a long time, not huddle up to themselves." Brother Lavauroas scoffs into his cup, the tension of the strange situation doing a lot to ruin the aroma of the pie. Like the illusion its steam made is not dispelled, lost to the realities of being around others. An unfortunate casualty.
One in particular comes on by, an otherwise normal look on her face. A normal stride to her posture. Yet, something in my instincts is going off. Something is telling me... She turns our way, coming close with the attention of several of the Valkinvar-Staguiffmani.
"So here she is, the corpse defiling traitor." she calls out, a sense of supreme pretentiousness about her as the table rattles with tensing muscles heaving their protection. Armour that is much a warning shake of the tail as it is its namesake.
"Some traitor I am. Got let right out of the Chamber of Traitor's Judgement." I scoff back, the irony quite the low-hanging fruit to sink my teeth into. Her hands flick open, the shine of spellfire coming to her fingertips and dancing around so delicately.
"I suppose that is all we can expect of the Eurultus-Valkinvar, then. Traitor leader for a traitor Valkinvar-Imdvarce. A corpse defiling-" she goes on and on, her words growing in their sinister tone. Yet, it's not my fist that goes straight for her face. Brother Lavauroas is the one standing high on his feet, an armoured gauntlet clenched tight and a distant bloody nose far away from us.
The Valkinvar-Ammimpaurst snorts, his internal-magic as potent as a Valkinvar-Staguiffmani's external-magic is. We all rise. My table, their tables and tables as far as the other side of the hall. Even the cooks are quiet in all but the most urgent of cases.
"I have just about had it with you damn stick-holders..." Brother Lavauroas hisses, a brawl breaking out and escalating without myself rising up in the slightest. I stay in my seat, watching with wide eyes as mayhem erupts throughout the feast hall. All around the Valkinvar degrade themselves, indulging in their petty frustrations and more.
Roars erupt into the hall, temple guards already coming in, weapons drawn to no avail.
A sigh catches in my throat and I look down at my pie. I stare into the soggy mess, seeing shapes that aren't actually there. The fight that happened so recently and my part in it. If I get involved in another now... A blow strikes Sister Bsess across the jaw, a blast of emerald winds that cut a fine shred of lines.
I leap into action, my gauntlets curling up even as more and more temple guards rush in so very close and yet so meaningfully far away. The feast hall booms yet again with a Valkinvar-Imdvarce on the move. Her fist, my fist colliding right against the head of a stick-holder. She flies away, right into the floor, and I rush for another, standing by my friends and the veterans of the Long Battery Fort.