Coming to a stop at the very edges of the Great Bridge, a long, sweaty sigh parts my lips. My hands come up to my helmet, its steel hot to the touch from the morning halolight. I heave it off and take in a deep breath of the ghastly whistling that crosses the bridge's width. I peek down the abyss and then turn away, getting back on with my journey.
Sister Valkinvar fly on past, their mighty display almost a taunt as I continue to trek the seemingly endless redstone bridge. I'm the only one foolish enough to make the journey on foot. The rest of the people of Thurn's Forge are far smarter than I. All of them have wagons or carts. I have my feet, clad in heavy armour at that.
"There's something so strange about walking like this." I can't help but let out as my thoughts bloom and stretch their petals under the unyielding halolight. My sisters and what brother have possibly passed me have all done so by flying. I can fly too, but all that flying last night with Brother Lavauroas, searching for Sister Dannatili has worn me out. And, somehow, going on a trek for thousands upon thousands of halfmans is restful.
One of the many delights of being trained to the level of a Valkinvar, I suppose. Being so powerful that one simply needs to wait in the ambience of the magical winds blowing from the Jherikra interior. Would be a wonderful thing, though, if this process was faster. I can no doubt fly off now, but I also have a full day of flying likely ahead of me.
Eurultus-Valkinvar Pymonsia is one of our four greatest Valkinvar. The most powerful of the Ordoar Wiswipide for certain. She could no doubt marathon her way around both ends of Thurn's Forge and the surrounding countryside all day. And then, coming back for her dinner, she'd not have a single sweat about her. I would die from exhaustion in that same vein.
"Eugh... Why did the Valkinvar have to be acting so strange right now!?" I complain, demanding the gods and goddesses for an answer. My question as serious as it is not. Were it not for that, I would not be needing to go to Thurnmourer-Thunlanann like this at all. Though, I suppose I'd rather be exhausted on the safety of the Great Bridge than as I was battling the heretics at the Long Battery Fort.
Then again, I suppose one does not think overly about their comfort in battle. Only so far as it affects their ability to survive, anyhow. It's an odd thing for the Valkinvar, even ones as disgraced as I am. The mortal instinct to survive still throbs loudly in our hearts, paining our heads to such vicious migraines and more. Yet, we are in our most honoured state when we die.
When we part the mortal plane and pass on to become the wives of the Lord of War, Waionr...
I look away from my thoughts and focus on a nearby caravan train. A father, grand or lesser or an uncle or an older brother, I cannot tell. All I can see is the beauty of an older man holding a little girl tightly towards him. A spoken game on their lips to break up the tedium of travelling from one side of the city to another. And although they are headed to the Valkinvar and our residence in Thurnmourer-Jherikra, they pay me no mind.
The Great Temple of the Four-Winded Valkinvar is the sight they can never get enough of. Not some Valkinvar-Imdvarce they can see as often as vegetables in a stew. Much like my earlier thoughts, there's an oddity to it that I can't help but cling to. I do not particularly wish for fame in the grandiose sense of being in the hearts and minds of so many. However, in my disgrace and embarrassment, I want to be something greater.
Like a young man and his aspirations that will never come true, the dream of being the strongest man in the world. I want something like that but so distinctly me in its nature and design. So very... Valkinvar. Something beyond even people like Eurultus-Valkinvar Pymonsia and the other three Gales.
Something so grand in presence and power that the mere truth of my failures becomes myth. Absurd ones at that, so unrecognisable from the current truth that no one can possibly understand it. How could anyone so powerful ever be that low? How can anyone that low ever become so powerful?
But that is all they are right now, and perhaps forever. Most certainly forever. All I can do is carry on my duties to the best of my ability. Carry on growing as well as I can so that I might betray my responsibilities as a woman of the Valkinvar for someone who still has their sacred virginity. I would become a brother in all but the sexual reality.
"I suppose that is all I can do for now. Think. Think and think as if I don't do enough of it already." I let out, lingering once again at the edge of the Great Bridge, even with time of the nebulous essence. My foot goes over and off the stone and my magic takes over. It wobbles weakly as I overpower the second-guessing and reluctance in my instincts. I float out further and further, as if my rope to the shore has been undone. Severed.
Darkness is all that is beneath me right now, darkness and a ground that has never seen light in all its life. Should my powers fail, I will fall and be forgotten. Lost as I was all those years ago, after my shame at Giant's Victory and beyond its walls. Valkinvar-Imdvarce Vapooliar was not there when the walls fell. She was safe under the moonlight. At Thrurstradtur-Suhurlodst.
My knuckles curl and my jaw tightens, my magic sending me further and further afield. I cannot get back to the bridge now in short order. I will have to put my all into a single burst of power. Something that can take me back, take me back so I can carry on walking the Great Bridge. So I can fight in the name of my god and my home!
"All this time and I still have the same doubts and worries..." I bitterly spit out, ashamed of how little I seem to have grown since I departed Thrurstradtur-Suhurlodst. I thought I left all these fears behind at those twin cities in the south. What was left should've burned away in the fires and battle of the Siege of the Long Battery Fort.
And yet, here I am. Doubting myself, testing my own resolve so needlessly and risking my life to do so. My ability to be remembered. Then again, I suppose I've always been that...
The weakest of the Valkinvar, the slowest to ever properly be inducted in their youth. A Valkinvar cannot drop out, though they can certainly crawl and slither their way to passing. I was nothing back then, nothing until Giant's Victory, and now I am here again. Shamed and disgraced.
My title that I earned with Sister Allyoceer's passing is gone. The faith she put in me is being tested in a way that makes as much sense as the rest of this farcical judgement on the Valkinvar. Stupid orders for a stupid people losing the one war where victory must come at any cost. And here we all are, hiding behind the walls of a city whose gates should be open with a flood of advancing soldiers going out to reclaim an empire!
"Eurultus-Valkinvar Pymonsia, please... Please have some answers for me. Please." I beg her with a whisper that is stolen from me by the prideful winds that shimmer with all thirteen shades of emerald. All the colours of wind magic are here, all of it flows into the lungs of the people of our home. Our enemy is right about one thing, even if we deny our part in it.
The Seven-Peaks Union of Jherikra.
"We are one of those peaks, those Seven who rule all of Jherikra, the Greatest Land!" I call out with a snap of my wind-filled chest. My power centres itself around my person, shattering the air with firm pressure on glass. It shatters, breaking out with a thunderous roar and pop. I shoot through the sky, leaving the abyss behind and veering back over the bridge.
I soar with all I have, my posture as firm and as assured as any other Valkinvar-Imdvarce. I keep ongoing, my armour and loose bits rattling away with an all-too common song. An open becomes clear to me on the Great Bridge and my body flips. My legs come out, catching my feet on the stone, and I run off into a slowing pace.
Steel grinds away, smoothing out the stone as much as the stone does it, too. My posture straightens and I flick my short hair about, getting it back in order. A breath of fresh air swells my lungs and I get back to it. Back onto the path of finding my goal and the possible salvation for all Valkinvar.
My journey only seems hard. I do not seek a mythical treasure like the ones that fill our vaults and tombs. I do not travel for the sake of impossible power and wealth. All I want is an answer, a simple one at that.
Why are the Valkinvar and our forces all gathering here when our lands need to be secured?
The Siege of Thurn's Forge ended the same cycle the witches of both sides screamed in pain. That was more than a quarter-cycle ago, maybe two or more. Months in the Dietic Calendar. We have time to secure our lands, recover and restore what we can. Perhaps even lead a wanton slaughter of our enemy and their lands.
The city will hold, with or without, the Valkinvar present. The efforts of our ancestors, all of Thurn's Forge's ancestors, have secured our future for decades to come. Thurn's Forge will not fall to some mysterious weapons that float on walls of industrially rolled steel. They will not break our lines so long as the magic of this world flows as it naturally does.
Eurultus-Valkinvar Pymonsia, please. That is all any of us can ask of you. Please, have an answer that can quell our fears, dismiss our concerns and thrive on our hopes. Whatever is going on in the privacy of our highest echelons is not working. It doesn't make sense.
Not once in all of history have the Valkinvar ever hid behind their walls. Even during the steadiness of the war we've been fighting for the past two centuries and more. Even during all of that... We did not just rest and wait, we fought and bitterly held the line. Slugging each blow out in equal measure and bleeding the heretics dry of all life and gods-given right.
We should be out there, crossing the valleys and leaping the mountain ranges. Even if it's only to plant our banner and flags, we should be fighting across Jherikra. Across what once was Waionr's Chosen Theocracy. Not here, most certainly not on the Great Bridge, walking towards Thurnmourer-Thunlanann!
"Gods and goddesses... This journey will drive me mad." I let out, sighing heavily as my mess of a mind continues to lash out at me for some form of comfort. I look away from my head and focus on Thurnmourer-Thunlanann, no more closer than I was earlier. At least, that is how it looks.
To think the regular folk of our city make these trips on the regular. Well, on transport and with the help of well-bred animals. The simple act of this trek is infuriating in how absent-minded it is. I can't focus on anything, so I turn inwards, only to focus on despair and second-guessings.
"I suppose it is a good thing, really." I let out, lingering once again as I stray once again to the edge of the Great Bridge to stand so very close to the endless abyss. Its sense of threat returns to me and I continue to stare down.
I look up and away, towards the very edges of the morning halolight and its source.
"In doubt comes humility. From humility comes the wisdom of strategy and a calm mind." I recite, recalling some of the lesson of the twenty-second Law of Waionr. Though the Valkinvar follows the laws of War himself, war is not just swords and guns. War can be as simple as a struggle.
In mind or body.