The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobbled streets of Skyline City. Street onto which Sitasia walked with a heavy heart, her steps slow and deliberate.

Her worn, tattered cloak billowed slightly in the breeze as she made her way through the labyrinthine alleys, lined with wooden stalls and awnings adorned with faded tapestries. The aroma of freshly baked bread mingled with the scent of spices, teasing her senses, but failing to stir her appetite.

Passing by a fruit stand, she couldn't help but notice the vibrant hues of ripe strawberries and luscious oranges, their sweetness almost palpable in the air. But she had no coin to spare for such indulgences, her meager purse jingling with only a handful of copper pieces.

With a heavy sigh, she approached a modest stall selling vegetables, their colors muted and wilted. The merchant, a grizzled old man, eyed her warily as she inspected the offerings. She selected a few items, knowing that they would provide sustenance, albeit meager, for the days ahead. The merchant, seeming to sense her desperation, reluctantly accepted her coins, handing over the provisions without a word. With her desired items she took her leave from the market.

As she turned to leave, Sitasia froze in place, as she caught sight of, in the distance, two familiar faces, a mother and a daughter. her heart sank deeper into an abyss of despair. Adjusting the garment she wore, to allow the bare minimum of her face to be visible, she rushed away from the market.

The sight of the woman and her daughter, exchanging laughter and friendly banter reminded her of one thing: the absence of her own daughter. The sight of them alone filled her heart with jealousy and bitterness.

She trudged back through the narrow streets, feeling the weight of her purchase heavier than ever. Her destination was home.

The setting sun cast a melancholic glow over the grandeur of the wealthiest district, its opulent mansions and pristine gardens basking in the fading light. Weary and burdened, she made her way towards the outskirts, where the line between prosperity and poverty blurred. Her humble abode stood on the edge, caught between the contrasting worlds of affluence and destitution.

Approaching her dwelling, she encountered the dilapidated gate, which creaked in protest as she pushed it open. Once a place of solace and beauty, her neglected garden sprawled before her. Weeds intertwined with once-blooming flowers, reclaiming the space that had been forsaken in the absence of the one who used to lovingly tend to the gardening activities of the household.

With a heavy heart, she passed by the unkempt garden and reached the doorstep, only to abruptly halt in her tracks. The sight that greeted her was unexpected—ajar door, rather than a closed one.

"Huh, didn’t I close the door when I left?"

Sitasia hesitated; the door wasn’t forced, it was just open, and yet grims thought passing through her head—had she forgotten to close the door.

What if people got in there, and are waiting for her? What if worse than that it was him that was in there waiting for her?

Nervously unsure, she debated whether to retreat or proceed. Eventually, curiosity outweighed her anxiety, and with a deep breath, she mustered the courage to step inside.

Entering the living room, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow. Once a well-furnished and inviting space, it now stood bleak and empty, devoid of the life it once possessed. The silence seemed to reverberate through the room, amplifying her unease. Taking a tentative step forward, she called out, her voice quivering, "Is anyone in here?"

There was no response. For a fleeting moment, relief washed over her, and she exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. But as her gaze scanned the room, she caught a movement in her peripheral vision—a figure emerging from the adjacent room. Her heart skipped a beat, and a chill ran down her spine.

The figure belonged to a young woman, who appeared to be in her late teens. She was unlike any Odoe she had ever seen—or at least most of them she adorned upon her head a striking golden crown of flowers, which could only mean one thing: she was an Odoe blessed by Odo: a Dae Odoe.

As their eyes met, a glimmer of relief and confusion sparked within her.

"Who... who are you?" She managed to muster, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and uncertainty.

Her question was one that held all the right to be asked. After all, an unknown young woman, especially a Dae Odoe, was standing there in the middle of her own house—a house that she distinctly remembered closing before venturing out. And yet her answer was one that simply left her hanging.

"Me? I don’t think that hardly matters."

"Huh?"

"After all it’s not who is here to see you but him," the girl said before raising the voice as though speaking to someone else, "Rustler, she’s here."

She barely got the time to wonder who this "Rustler '' she spoke of was that the corner of her eyes, a small silhouette emerged from the kitchen, gradually coming into view.

"You…"

As the young boy's face came into view, a surge of hatred and visceral emotion overwhelmed her. It was him—the same boy who had walked past these doors five years ago, accompanied by a girl who had been the first Odoe she had ever laid eyes upon. Nothing, quite literally, had changed about the boy. He hadn't grown taller, his appearance remained unchanged, his still the same if not somewhat more haunting. All in all it was as if time had stood still for him. Except for one striking addition—the pair of golden antlers adorning his head.

"It’s been a while, Devi Sitasia," he greeted, yet none of the tones felt like one. "I hope you didn’t forget about me."

Though the desire to charge at him, to assault and make him pay for all he had done to her, burned within her, there was a voice screaming inside her, begging her to run. Yet, she found herself immobilized, unable to act upon either impulse. It was as if an invisible force held her in place, rendering her powerless and trapped in her own turmoil.

Time stood still as her mind became a battleground, torn between conflicting emotions. Hatred and anger waged war with self-preservation and the instinct to flee. Each side of the internal struggle vied for dominance, leaving her trapped in a state of paralyzing inertia.

She longed to break free from the invisible chains that bound her, to defy the immobilizing grip that held her hostage. Yet, her limbs felt heavy, as if weighed down by the weight of her own despair. The torment within her grew, fueling a storm of frustration and helplessness.

As the heavy and hostile silence settled in the room, her inability to move left her feeling even more trapped. The Rustler remained silent, his presence haunting and oppressive. The weight of the unspoken words hung in the air, suffocating her with their intensity.

The girl, sensing the tension, broke the silence. "Well, since this has nothing to do with me, I'll go outside, Rustler," she said, her voice tinged with indifference. She sought confirmation from the boy, her gaze briefly meeting his. With a subtle nod from the Rustler, the girl turned away and walked past her, leaving behind a lingering gaze that spoke volumes about her own fate.

Her heart sank as the girl's gaze met hers, a gaze filled with knowing and pity.

As the door closed behind the girl, its resonating echo filled the room, signifying the end of their brief interaction. Devi found herself left alone with the one who now referred to himself as the Rustler. The weight of their unspoken words hung heavy in the air, intensifying the palpable tension.

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"How nice of you to have returned home, I was very surprised when I found out where you would be. In fact it took me some time to believe it, but here we are," he declared, finally, the Rustler broke the silence. His voice, though calm, carried a constant undercurrent threat.

"How about you have a seat, Devi?" he invited, gesturing towards a chair in the room. His piercing blue eyes locked onto what she held in her hands, his gaze filled with a calculated curiosity. "You must be exhausted after this errand."

Her instincts screamed at her to refuse his offer, to deny him any further control over her actions. Yet, the intensity of his stare seemed to infiltrate her very being, compelling her body to comply despite her reservations. Against her own will, she found herself obediently moving towards the indicated chair.

"We sat like this that day, didn't we?" he said, his voice laced with a tinge of nostalgia that sent a shiver down her spine. "You were there, and she and I were here."

His words hung in the air, evoking a bitter and sour memory from the past. Devi's mind hesitated, caught between the desire to forget and the compulsion to acknowledge the truth. She remembered that day all too well, the intricate details etched into her memory like scars.

"Do you remember?" he pressed, his tone accusing.

Her heart sank as she confronted the haunting recollections. Of course, she remembered. How couldn’t she, every time she would close her eyes, recollections of the choice she made that day would play like a never-ending loop in her mind.

"I...," she began, her voice barely a whisper before she was abruptly cut off.

"I said, do you remember!" he repeated, his voice rising with impatience and a hint of menace. Feeling the weight of his gaze intensify, she nodded.

"Since you do remember, can you tell me, did you already plan on selling us out when we sat here, believing in you, like we did? Or was it something that spawned in your mind later on? Which is it?"

Unable to foresee his reaction to either of her possible answers, but understanding that he would not accept silence as a response, she gathered her courage and spoke, "It's the latter," she confessed,

"I see," he mumbled, his voice filled with a mixture of resignation and sadness. "But the moment we made it past your door, you knew what I was, and most likely who I was, didn't you?"

That was true once again, and she knew it. As a Devi, how could she not?

An Odoe girl appeared in her city, and it was only natural for her to seek to know what her deal was. And so she did, but in the process, she discovered not only who she was but also who the boy by her side, obviously a Rajs, was. It didn’t take her long to find out. And from there, everything unfolded the way it did.

"You knew who I was, knew what would happen to her had she been successfully apprehended, and yet you chose—chose to betray one of your own," he accused, his voice laced with bitterness and disappointment. "All for what? Money, gold, the promise of riches? Or perhaps something else that I cannot fathom?" He lashed out, one of his fists curled into a tight grip, producing a metallic sound. "Whatever it was, was it worth it? Have you ever thought about how different all of this could've been if you had just behaved like the decent human being she believed you to be?"

His words struck a nerve within her, igniting a fire of anger and pain. The accusations cut deep, but she refused to let them go unanswered. In a surge of pent-up emotion, she unleashed her own words upon him, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and grief.

"Don't you dare talk to me about decency!" she shouted, her voice filled with raw intensity. "You, of all people, have no right to judge me. You killed her—my daughter, who had nothing to do with any of this! You snuffed out her innocent life without remorse, without a second thought. And here you stand, devoid of any semblance of guilt or regret."

Her chest heaved with every word, her eyes blazing with a mix of anguish and defiance. She continued, her voice strained but unwavering. "Yes, I have regrets. Every day, every moment, I regret ever allowing you and your kind into my home. But don't you dare think for a second that you are any better. In fact, you are worse. All these people, what do you think you’ve achieved by killing all these people?"

A bitter, hollow laugh escaped her lips as she added, "If there is a place where the dead are punished for their misdeeds, I will be waiting for you there. And mark my words, you will pay for your atrocities."

As she finished her tirade, she was left breathless, her words hanging in the air, their weight pressing down upon the room. The Rustler, seemingly unaffected by her outburst, casually asked, "Are you done?"

She didn't answer, her chest heaving with each labored breath. "I'll take that for a yes," he said, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words. He stood up, and leisurely approached her, closing the distance between them.

"Sure, I'm a horrible person," he remarked, his tone almost dismissive. "I never said I wasn't. I am. But you know what? If there is a place where horrible people are punished for their misdeeds, you'll be waiting a very long, long time before seeing me there." His blue almost ethereal eyes stared into hers as if peering into the confines of her soul. He added, "So, I hope you've already made up your mind about waiting that long."

His words struck her like a cold, cruel reality. The realization of her impending fate washed over her, mingling with the remnants of her anger and despair.

Silence enveloped the room once again, the air heavy with the unsaid. She stood there, breathless and defeated, her eyes locked with his. In that moment, she realized the futility of her rage and the inevitability of her own demise. She had unleashed her fury, but it achieved little to nothing, if nothing at all.

Her fate was sealed.

***

"There goes the last name on the list," she said, standing over her.

"Yes, there it did," he replied, his gaze fixed on his hands covered in red. Using his shirt, equally bloodied, he attempted to take it off, bearing a lost almost mechanical expression on his face as he did.

After five years, he had finally reached the end of it. All of them had perished by his hands. Vengeance had been served, and yet, there lingered this peculiar feeling.

"Now that this is done, now that the last name is off the list, what will we wake from the slumber for?"

Confronted by the question that mirrored that feeling, the Rustler cast a final glance at the Devi on the floor. "I don’t know."

He walked away, trudging past the door to the garden, where he discovered Men’ma standing amidst the overgrown flowers.

Noticing his presence, she turned towards him and commented, "Judging by all this," she said, pointing at him and, more precisely, the blood on him, "I assume you're finished with what you came here for."

The Rustler said nothing, simply nodded.

"I see," she said, approaching.

While the Rustler expected her to offer more comments, having gotten to know her, she surprised him by simply approaching and handing him a handkerchief. Or not.

"Take this to clean yourself up, even I can’t walk around with someone looking like that."

The Rustler reached out for the handkerchief, replied back, "I’m not going to thank you?"

"Talk about being ungrateful, but yeah, I wasn’t expecting you to, anyway." "But still couldn’t you have done that cleanly in the first place that would’ve spared us all of this."

"I don’t know if you’ve ever done what I’d just done, but I don’t think there is an actual clean way to do this."

"There must be at least a thousand ways to do this; just admit that you preferred the gruesome over anything else reasonable."

"Aye aye, if you say so."

As the Rustler wiped himself with the handkerchief, a peculiar silence settled between the two of them, with her merely observing his actions. A silence broken by the Rustler asking, "say, are you fine with this?"

"Fine with what?"

"I just killed an Odoe. She may have been a common one, but she still belonged to your kind, while you were just standing there outside," he remained, genuinely curious as to what would be her answer.

"Ah, that," she said, before falling into a contemplative silence. After a moment, as if finally finding the right words, she began to explain, "I wasn't particularly fine with it. It's just that I realized if I had chosen to oppose you in your actions, you would most likely have... well, turned against me."

"So it was because of that," the Rustler mumbled, surprised by her response.

"Yeah, I wasn't in the mood for a fight, so I wasn't going to give an excuse to start one," she said before adding, with a more serious tone, "And frankly, I understand what it's like to pursue something relentlessly for so many years. I know what I would do if someone I barely knew or understood got in the way of what I've invested so much time in. So, yeah, I'll feel remorseful about this, but I'm confident that when I return home with you, it will all be worthwhile."

While listening to the girl explain her reasoning, the Rustler found himself impressed by her ability to abstract things for the sake of her goals. Despite the twisted nature of their conversation, he gradually began to see her in a more favorable light.

But no way he would simply admit that, instead, "I see," he simply said, handing the handkerchief back to its owner.

"Urgh! Who would want that back, just throw that away!"

"If you say so," he said, tossing the handkerchief into the foliage.

"Well, now that you're finished with what you came here for, can we finally depart for the southern continent? I've had enough of this place," she asked, eager to leave.

"Yeah," the Rustler nodded as he followed the girl, who had already started walking away. As he did so, he found himself thinking, "What would we wake up for? I might not know why yet, but I’m at least hoping that I will."