Giorno Nojo

***

“My my, you’ve all grown quite large, haven’t you?”

Although they couldn’t talk, I imagined my slimy friends squirming in agreement with my words. However, I was sure it was just the anticipation of soggy paper, table scraps, and rotten fruit speaking such nonsense.

While most people were disgusted with them, I developed quite a relationship with the worms in my compost bin. They were like living tunnels that ate the things that would make us sick and shat out what amounted to supercharged dirt, giving us the means to make and waste more food so more worms could grow and sustain themselves. It seemed… natural. Everything about this lifestyle did.

Like I did every morning, I moved from my compost bin over to my kitchen to first wash my hands, then flip my breakfast onto a plate to then sit on my balcony and gaze upon the villagers conducting their morning routines. It was an amazing thing. Seeing people change from being stepped on and scared to living freely. We were freer even than the citizens back in Odissi, only because we hardly used money. We still paid for our goods and services, of course. But we were all family here, and with the discounts we gave to family, such things may have well been free of charge.

That left everyone in a peculiar spot. Wherein, the citizens didn’t have to work in order to buy food, rent shelter, or pay off their homes. Instead, everyone grew their own food and traded what they had not. Everyone was free and indeed encouraged to pursue their dreams rather than do things out of necessity. Artists and writers were taught and given every opportunity to create. The athletic and feisty children were free to train with the guards or hunters and hone their skills in a number of other things. Those interested in crafting could attend regular workshops and seminars on a daily basis. Anyone could do anything here, and with our Doppelgangers, the work never stopped.

The culture that arose from such a lifestyle was one of equal parts work and play. With the sun, most of us rose to take over for our umbral clones and work in earnest until sunset. At sundown, our clones would return to work for us while we went off to party and relax throughout the night and as far into the morning as we so wished; for our Doppelgangers were there to pick up our slack regardless.

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Now, the interesting bit was the lack of laziness such a facet of our lives produced. It was indeed the opposite, for our clones were not our servants. They were us. Us and much more. They were also Amun. They contained his knowledge. And, as far as I was concerned, his knowledge base was nigh infinite. Parts of his mindset were found in all of them. Through that, our clones pushed us to become ever greater. They taught us to elevate our crafts to the next level. They worked with us, but they gave us nothing freely. We had to work for everything, and the work never stopped.

I loved it.

Now, though, I was at a plateau. I wanted to bring my craft to the next level. I wanted to create something new. But I was at a loss for what. All I needed was an inspiration. And I found it the most unlikely place.

A small rodent. Rat-like with a bushy tail. A squirrel, I learned it was called. It was crawling at the edge of my living room, near my terrace which served as both a garden and balcony. Blatantly stealing berries from me while I enjoyed a smoke. Though, stealing was a bold word, considering I’d have let it eat to its heart's content on any occasion. Despite not wanting to be near most of them, I cared for animals. So, it came as a shock to me when it suddenly jumped from the balcony.

I started after it at once and froze after only a step.

Almost convinced I was being deceived, I watched the rodent unfurl skin folds from its armpits or belly and they caught the wind at once, carrying him to safety with ease. Me and my Doppelganger dove into work after that. With the village already rocking our wear, we were able to invest the entirety of the time into creating and testing a creation that was sure to catch the eyes of any passersby. And just in time for the long-awaited trips to the coast too.

While one caravan was heading to Wolfwater on a charity mission, ours was headed to Luton for the sake of commerce. The caravan consisted of my and Eric’s wagon behind Liam and his team of scouts taking point. Behind us was Letta in her wagon, followed by Kriss’ son Brock and his two cooled wagons of agricultural goods to be sold. Behind him were four wagons filled with various craftsmen, which were brought up at the rear by Joe Rodin and his wagon. In addition to that were five geomancers to clear and level the path as we went and a guard for each wagon, plus Mayor Silas and Yaramin Springwood under heavy guard in the middle.

Unlike any other caravan, we departed at dusk. With our clones at the reigns, each caravan traveled through the night while the riders took to a night of planning and rest before we left the confines of our territory and the tumultuous two-month, nonstop journey to the coast got underway.