You decide to enjoy this opportunity to embark on some proper sight-seeing, which you didn't get the chance to do last time you came. So it is that with your suitcase in tow, you head for the exits and wander out into the bright sunlight.
It must have rained prior to your arrival, because the streets are slick and littered with puddles, forcing you to weave about through the crowd to avoid the deepest spots. Even so, you do enjoy the atmosphere it provides, the sunlight reflected and scattered in interesting ways by the water, and you think you can even see a hazy rainbow cast onto one of the larger buildings overhead.
The streets here are wider than those down in Skvarzava, but the buildings tower much higher than you're used to, and with many more people out and about, so it feels a bit claustrophobic if anything. At least it's mostly just people walking along; only occasionally does an automobile pass through and force people to move aside for it. They aren't exactly rare here, but certainly not common either; typically only owned by rural farmers who live a way out from the cities, and rich families who flaunt theirs as a status symbol. Everyone else gets by on foot, cable car, and train, and that's worked out pretty well so far.
Speaking of which, you come to a halt at the intersection, waiting with a handful of others until a trolley comes by, figuring this will speed up your little excursion. Hopping aboard, you take a seat and pull out your map, alternating between enjoying the view and figuring out where you want to stop first.
In a way, it's kind of strange to think that this all began as a raggedy little tent-city, threatening to topple into the river beside which it had been set up. This country had started from humble means; refugees fleeing from some medieval crusade from one now-defunct kingdom to another, but along the way became hopelessly lost. Stumbling upon a sizable and fertile, yet remote and undiscovered valley, it didn't take long for them to decide this was a perfect place to settle. Starting with essentially nothing meant that there were early difficulties, of course. But being so isolated granted them a solid century to build up and farm in peace, growing into a flourishing and self-sufficient city-state before the rest of the world came knocking.
The trolley slows again, and you step down onto the street as it passes by a large open circular city square. This is the intersection for a great number of the city's winding roads, resembling the eye of a massive storm as pedestrians and vehicles swirl around the relatively tranquil center area. Fountains and raised gardens, divided by walkways, are arranged around a statue in the middle, and you take a few moments to appreciate the artistry.
Depicting two men shaking hands, a plaque explains it was made to commemorate the (relatively) peaceful reestablishment of contact between Mzendzyovka and the outside world. A group of explorers and geographers stumbled across the valley by accident, while marking out borders for the neighboring Ruritania. It had taken a great deal of politicking to convince the rulers of the much larger country to allow the valley to remain independent, but it was ultimately surprisingly successful, though in hindsight mostly likely due to Ruritania's own struggles. Being pressured on other fronts by their neighbors meant they simply couldn't afford to sink resources into bringing Mzendzyovka to heel, but that didn't make the valley's people any less grateful for their fortune. After that, it didn't take long for other groups of outcasts and wanderers to make their way here, and while there were occasional conflicts in integration, Mzendzyovka remained largely peaceful.
Bidding the statue farewell, you continue on your tour. Another short jaunt on the trolley leaves you in a wide, grassy park a bit further from the city center; a more recent and modernistic installation, the landscape architecture was designed to map to Mzendzyovka itself, with small sculptures representing the cities. Barrasson is a symmetrical pointed spire in the very middle, of course. You take a walk around the perimeter, visiting each city in the order they were founded.
Krasnaya, nestled among the northern mountains, is your first stop. While the whole park has been carefully planned to match the elevation changes of the valley, it becomes a great deal more dramatic here, with raised layers walled in by tight-packed wooden poles, giving the area the appearance of a strangely-shaped stacked cake. The town itself is represented by a metal sculpture of a steam-shovel in between the peaks. Despite being the second-oldest of the cities, Krasnaya's focus on mining, as well as the harsh geography and cold climate, have also left it at a consistently small size.
Next is Cauterets in the west, represented by a small pair of gates that you can actually walk through, up against a five-foot tall ridge to represent the huge cliff escarpment that overshadows the real city. Cauterets lies in ruins now, unfortunately, but before it fell to the invading robots it was the second-largest after Barrasson itself, and welcomed immigrants from the pass with open arms. You can't help but notice that someone has planted a wooden pole in the ground a few meters away, with the word hope crudely carved down one side. It must represent the location of New Cauterets, the tiny fledgling farming community founded by those who once lived in the fallen city. You give it a bittersweet smile as you pass by, moving on to your own hometown.
Skvarsava, of course, is situated in a lower gully accessible by a small wooden staircase, and opens out into a medium-sized duck pond with a fountain in place of the sea. The city itself is represented by a sculpture of a modern merchant ship with smokestacks instead of sails. Your father worked aboard one of those, visiting far-off places to exchange for items that even Mzendzyovka's self-sufficiency was unable to produce, until the barrier appeared.
It was a near-miss from never seeing him again; frankly; he had set out to go for a several-month trip on the same morning as the valley was cut off from the world. Instead of vanishing for weeks, the ship returned to harbor later that day with its prow destroyed from running headlong into the sudden invisible wall. The fortunate timing was offset by tragedy, though, as an accident caused by the impact left many sailors wounded, Symon among them with a missing leg. They got him to the hospital in time to save his life, but he was on crutches for several years, (which also left him unable to join the war when the machines began to appear) and only more recently was able to get a prosthetic replacement. Frankly he seemed less concerned with that than being physically cut off from the wider sea, but it was a terribly backhanded stroke of luck nonetheless.
Shaking your head to clear away those negative ponderings, you make your way to the final corner of the park, which is mostly filled with a small yet dizzying hedge maze to represent the forests that cover that side of the valley. You finally find your way to the middle, though, where a miniaturized factory stands for Diphaci, the (relatively) newest of the cities. Initially founded by a wave of immigrants from lands to the southeast, it quickly became known for its lumber and textiles. Diphaci underwent a radical transformation, however, once technologies in the outside world began to accelerate. The city quickly grew in industry and development, creating the cable-car systems in most of the cities and generally bringing Mzendzyovka to a more even footing with the rest of the world. And after the barrier isolated the valley and the robots began to invade, it was in Diphaci that the salvaged remains of the attackers were reverse-engineered to create the first mechs used to fight back. The same ones you'll be using soon... You leave the park feeling a little more optimistic, reminded what you're on the way to do.
Still, checking the hour from a nearby clocktower, there's still plenty of time to kill. So what's next? Glancing over the map again, you pick out the old castle as a possible destination, but ultimately decide against it. While relatively small compared against those you've seen in photos and illustrations from the outside world, it is still big enough that a tour of the place would definitely run over your allotted time. The now-defunct building, being the home of the monarchy, has been turned into a museum after Mzendzyovka shifted to a more oligarchical form of government, and while interesting in the abstract, you're not sure you have the patience to hear about all the artifacts from that period, insignificant or otherwise, on display. Still, you can at least appreciate the architecture from a distance, which it's placement on a high hill allows quite easily.
The trolley rolls further afield of the city center, the buildings growing smaller as you go. It isn't long before you find yourself at the main southwestern gate, and the low brick wall that encompasses Barrasson. Stepping off again, you step out through the gates and wander a little ways down the wide road stretching out into the prairie and farmlands. Waiting a few dozen meters past the big entrance is a pair of artillery platforms, flanking the road and pointed west.
Mzendzyovka was peaceful for most of its history, but there were of course exceptions. Ruritania occasionally did make an actual effort to absorb the valley, when younger and brasher leaders came into power, so militias were created to ward off such attempts and make sure it was never worthwhile for the would-be conquerors, and defensive fortifications erected with a sometimes downright paranoid zeal. The insecurities of the tiny nation truly escalated during the Great War, though, with news of the biggest countries seeking to grow even bigger, tearing each other to shreds and ruthlessly trampling anyone who happened to be in the way in the process. Diphaci's factories worked overtime to churn out artillery emplacements and ammunition, and the armories overflowed with fresh-forged rifles and helmets. Such preparations ultimately proved unnecessary, since the valley's inaccessibility meant it was passed over entirely in favor of more convenient land-routes, but Ruritania wasn't so fortunate. When the dust settled, the long-time neighbors and occasional rivals had been replaced by a bigger, less predictable nation, and Mzendzyovka found itself again playing host to a new wave of immigrants who wanted to settle down as far from the fighting as possible; your father being among them.
Of course, everything stocked up from the Great War did eventually find use; the first year of this new, more alien war was a brutal and bloody slog with an unthinkable toll in the numbers of your generation. It was only because of the extreme preparations beforehand that the machines were stopped from overtaking the valley right away, and even then they were terrifyingly close to these very gates by the time the tide began to turn.
While too many men fought and died in the field, the top minds in Diphaci used the time they bought to gradually learn from the recovered technology, create armored defenders with it, and select the most promising young women from each of the cities to pilot them. While originally passed over to fight on account of their gender, they were now the best hopes to save the valley. And so, they did. With the machines pushed back to the pass and the front established to keep them there, the war cooled down. Even so, the emplacements were left here... just in case.
It's a sobering thought, but also one that makes you determined. They served well, but you intend to make sure these turrets are never necessary to use again. With that decided, you bid them farewell and walk back through the gates, returning to the stop to wait for the next trolley.
The trip back inward is both faster and longer, without any more interesting stops along the way. You're still feeling a bit tired from last night's lack of rest, but also a bit antsy, knowing you're in for another long period of sitting on the train soon. Still, you have time for one last longish stop or a couple of shorter ones, so you decide to take a look at city hall and the library, which are housed in the same building. It's not that far from the Train Station, anyway, so when the trolley returns to the intersection where you originally boarded it, you hop off and walk the handful of blocks northeast to reach it.
The city hall doesn't look like anything special from the outside; aside from some tall pillars and a wide staircase in front, it's an austere chalk-white block with windows, four stories tall and about twice as long as its width. However, you've heard the interior is a different story, so it is that you ascend the steps and push through the heavy wooden doors. A short hallway opens up into a wider lobby, and you stop to stare in awe. A terrace wraps in an oval around a central open space that connects all four floors, as well as the underground level. A tall chandelier is suspended in the middle, the long beams of glass hanging down like the branches of a willow tree, and the whole thing looks like a massive golden-glowing icicle aimed threateningly at the mosaic floor below. Staircases wrap around the interior of the cylinder, connecting the floors, and everything is polished to the point of gleaming, the reflected golden light seeming almost blinding. It's all still tasteful, too, but certainly opulent enough to juuust border on overkill.
Making your way around the edge, you descend to the bottom to better examine the mosaic, but it turns out to be disappointingly abstract no matter which angle you view it from, simply depicting the blue, red, and orange sunset flag. You remember hearing that there was supposed to be a depiction of the last king before the shift to oligarchy hidden in there, but Sophia had dismissed it as an urban legend. You hate to admit she's probably right. As usual.
Shrugging in disappointment, you make to head back upstairs, until you hear voices from down one of the darkened hallways. Feeling somehow guilty about your presence, yet overwhelmed by curiosity, you dash to one side of the opening and listen in to the argument around the corner.
"What are you doing? This is an embarrassment, 'Lena!" An older woman is hissing in anger, and you wince at her tone.
"I'm sorry," a younger female voice responds, downcast. "I didn't realize you were in the middle of a meeting."
"You could have knocked," the first woman suggests sharply. "Now the reading's been thrown off and I will have to start all over again. He was getting impatient enough as it was."
"I'm sorry." The other girl repeats, tone dull.
"And what are you even doing here anyway? Weren't you going off to throw away your life or something?" The dismissive tone makes you frown in anger.
The other girl is audibly incensed as well, but somehow manages to keep her composure. "I will be going out there soon, yes. I just… wanted to spend some time with you before that. I didn't realize it was a bad time."
The woman lets out a sigh, taking on a softer tone. "I'm sorry too; that was unfair of me to say. I just wish you would have announced yourself first, okay? I could have finished up in time to see you off, but now I don't think I will be able to."
Before the girl can respond, a third, vaguely whiny male voice intrudes; "If you two are quite finished now, I would like to complete this… reading, before my next appointment."
You peek around the corner just in time to see the woman embrace the girl in a brief hug, before vanishing through a nearby doorway and leaving her alone in the dimly-lit hall. The girl stands still for several moments, before letting out a long, low sigh and leaning against the wall, fiddling with something in her hands.
Once again compelled by curiosity, you step out into the open and hesitantly approach the girl, looking her up and down as you do so. She's a little shorter than you, and is wearing a simple black dress with a high collar and long sleeves; both the cuffs and the skirt have a white frilly inner layer that peeks out just slightly. (Though you wonder how much of it is influenced by the dress's shaping, you find yourself appreciating her subtle but effective hourglass figure.) Along with that, she has thigh-high stockings vertically striped in black and white almost like a convict's uniform, and black high-heels with rounded toe sections. Her wide bob of hair is a snowy white and her skin is like porcelain; the only real splashes of color come from a red headband that separates her bangs from her sidelocks, a red scarf loosely wrapped over her shoulders, and her deep blue eyes. She's expressionless, disinterested as she handily shuffles through a deck of cards, and paired with her somewhat austere appearance, she comes off as a little bit intimidating.
You begin to rethink your actions; you shouldn't have been listening in on their business, you should probably just head back… but it's too late now; she's noticed you. Glancing up from her cards, she fixes you with a vague stare and tilts her head to one side. "I'm sorry, am I in your way?" Her voice is high and feminine, but her tone is as flat as her expression. "I can move if you need."
"Oh, no, don't worry," you respond hastily. "I, uh…" You bite your lip. Would it be rude to admit to eavesdropping, or worse to keep it a secret? "I was just looking around; I heard some arguing from over here, a little bit ago, and got curious."
She simply looks back down at her cards. "I see. It's nothing you need to worry about."
"Are… you okay?" You ask, drawing a little closer.
She blinks, then again more rapidly, and reaches up to rub at one eye. "...I've been better," she finally admits. "Let's talk somewhere else." Picking up the suitcase at her feet, she steps away from the wall and brushes past. Before you follow her lead, you linger just long enough to look at the doorway the other woman had gone into. Wedged closely between two other doors in a way that makes you suspect the interior is rather small, it bears a simple copper plaque that reads Office of Divination. Huh.
Following the girl back out into the main area, where the bright lights seem annoying now more than impressive, the two of you ascend back to the main floor without exchanging a single word. It isn't until you're back outside the main doors that she finally stops, taking a seat on one side of the big stairs leading down to the street. Taking a seat beside her, you observe in curiosity; she spends several moments just staring ahead moodily despite the bright sun, before turning back toward you. Surprised that you're still there, she sighs again, before offering a hand and a wry grin. "Hello. My name is Yelena Klementia. Sorry about the noise earlier."
With the silence broken, you offer a smile in return as you shake her hand. "Alexandra Polinski. Like I said, it wasn't really a bother, I was just… worried, I guess. Sounded kind of harsh back there."
She looks away uncomfortably. "I suppose. My aunt's bark is worse than her branches, but it is still unpleasant to quarrel with her so. I just… overstepped my bounds."
"Wait, that was your aunt?" You blink in surprise, but what you'd heard does make a little more sense now. "I'm sorry it didn't go well."
Yelena shrugs and rubs at her eyes a bit again. "It's not a big deal. The fault was mine; she has a difficult enough time being taken seriously as it is, so family members suddenly bursting in won't exactly do her much favor in that regard."
"Do you get to see her often?" You find yourself asking. Yelena shakes her head.
"I live in Krasnaya, but her duties force her to remain down here. We occasionally get to meet up and speak, but little more than that. She and my parents… don't see eye to eye on many matters, my upbringing being chief among them." She pauses a moment and adds "If I could, I would rather follow in her footsteps than theirs, but there's never time for her to even begin to teach me, and now that I'm going westward, she may not even want to." An edge of frustration creeps into her voice at that, but she shakes her head. "Sorry, I shouldn't whine about this."
"Going westward?" You ask, though you already suspect the answer.
"Indeed. I've enlisted in the Defense Corps, as a third option." She gives another sardonic grin, and adds, "Now nobody is happy with me."
Hesitantly, you reach out and pat her on the shoulder. "Sorry to hear that. Though, that's where I'm headed, too."
She blinks and turns to you in surprise. "Really?" She glances down at the forgotten deck of cards still in her hand, turning it over a couple of times. "What do you suppose the odds of that are? I hope it will be a pleasure to work with you."
You grin and nod in return. "Why don't we go back together?" Checking the time, you find you have fifteen minutes left before boarding begins again. "And we may as well head there now."
The two of you walk back to the station in silence, but it's a more comfortable sort now. Yelena seems interesting, at any rate, and in contrast to her earlier apathetic stance, she glances about at the crowds and buildings with a reserved but content smile. Once you get to the station, after weaving through the crowds inside, It doesn't take long to board again. The westbound train is considerably shorter with only three cars, and according to your travel information, the small caboose is reserved for you and the other four Advanced Service recruits.
Stepping aboard, the two of you find someone already present; a tiny girl sitting in the far corner, all but drowning in a massive navy-blue peacoat, with sleek black leggings and pointy shoes barely visible under the bottom edge. Her hair is a glossy black that cascades down her back, with blunt-cut bangs and sidelocks that frame a pale face. She glances over only briefly as you and Yelena enter, scanning you both before going back to staring out the window, but crosses her arms as well, the massive sleeves that extend easily a foot past where her hands must be hanging down to hide her form. All in all, she doesn't strike you as being terribly friendly, and the impression is only reinforced when she takes a massive suitcase off the overhead shelf and places it in the seat beside her. Wonderful.
You hear shouting from behind you, and only have a second to dodge aside before another girl blasts in like a cannonball, fleeing the hostile words from the platform. Taking a seat with a sigh of relief, she blinks at you and Yelena, only just noticing your presence. She's rather… bouncy, in several senses of the word. Round-faced and friendly, she's got a rather unruly mop of carrot-orange hair; two tufts poke up in a way that almost makes you think of cat ears. She's got a long-sleeved white top that hangs just past her rather excessive bust, with a lace-lined undershirt of chaotic zebra-like black-and-white striping to cover her slightly chubby midsection, and a garishly bright orange ruffled skirt that outdoes yours in brevity. Between that and the boots that go just below her knee, you see thick, muscular thighs to support her wide hips, and which match with her equally strong-looking biceps. Her skin is a tan shade, just a little lighter than your own, though you're not sure if it's natural or from exposure to the sun. And she definitely seems more inviting than the small girl, the initial panic from her arrival turning into a wide and welcoming grin as she sees you two.
Before she can say anything, though, the fifth and final of your number stalks aboard, shooting the ginger a resentful glare before noticing you as well, and instantly schools her face into a more neutral expression. "Ah, hello, there." She's got a simple tan button-up blouse with a knee-length flannel skirt and an overly long tie in dark green. Her hair, in contrast, is a pale shade of yellowish-green like an apple, and is parted and pulled back into two long ponytails at the nape of her neck. She's also a bit tanned, with a freckly face, and her stature is tall and stick-like, clearly still growing out of her teenage proportions. Despite her anger just a moment ago, she seems fine now, offering an affiable smile as she passes by to take a seat.
You realize you and Yelena still haven't taken a seat, and you glance around; the way the other three are situated, and with the smaller size of the caboose, there's nowhere to sit that won't place you near one of them.
Who do you want to sit by?
> The Quiet Girl She may not welcome your presence, but at least you won't be choosing sides between the other two.
> The Bubbly Girl She seems really friendly, and as fit and prepared for this as you are. Why not join her?
> The Skinny Girl She seems to share your taste in fashion and bears you no ill-will, so she could be fun to talk with.
Finally here! Things got delayed because I was waffling over the ending, but I think I found a somewhat better way of handling it, even if it did wind up a little bit too similar to the original run in some ways. Well, next update will cover the train ride in its entirety this time, so who you choose does matter significantly more. (Again, what was past me thinking?) Anyway, I hope this was a bit more informative without getting too boring...
