The whole room shook violently, causing the objects within to rattle and clatter. It felt as if the very foundations of the structure were being tested. Amidst the chaos, the Rustler struggled to maintain his composure, but the motion was relentless, threatening to unsettle him.

With a guttural noise escaping his throat, the Rustler clutched his hand over his mouth, desperately trying to stifle the rising nausea. The ship pitched and rolled, each movement accentuated by his body's protest. He stumbled towards the small table in his cabin, where he kept a puking pot as a precaution for such moments.

Hugging the puking pot dearly in his arms, the Rustler sat at the base of his bed, his face pale and beads of sweat forming on his brow. Just as he thought he couldn't bear it any longer, his commotion woke up Men'ma, who was sleeping in the same cabin on a nearby bed.

Men'ma, rubbing her visored eyes called out in concern, "Are you alright? What's happening?"

Struggling to regain his breath, the Rustler managed to reply, "I'm... I'm fine." His voice was strained, betraying his discomfort.

“For someone “fine,” you sure look pale, it’s worse than when we were riding a carriage.”

“I’m okay, I just need… peace and time, I’ll get over this or at worse, will just get over it. For now I just need a moment of respite.”

Men'ma sat up in her bed, a hint of worry on her face. “Forget what I said about enjoying the journey, why don’t you just do your thing: Sleep. I’ll wake you up as soon as we arrive on the Southern Continent.”

“Do you think, I haven’t already tried that,” the Rustler retorted, the frustration in his voice palpable. “But this damn ship is moving so much I just can’t!”

“Okay, okay, I was just suggesting.”

“No, I’m the one who is sorry, I’m the one who is… I think I really need rest,” he declared, standing up.

“Where are you going?”

“Outside, perhaps the stationary moon in the sky is going to help.”

“But didn’t you say that that trick wasn’t working on you anymore?”

“I did, but trying is a far better initiative than just remaining here puking my gut out.”

“I see,” she said, preparing to leave her bed. “I’m going with you.”

“No, I’m fine—being alone. Besides, we’re in the middle of the night. Sleep, take advantage of the time I’m not going to bother you with the noise,” the Rustler declared.

“Since you say so, I will.”

“Goodnight.”

“You too. Well, I guess not. Good luck out there.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he simply said, closing the door behind him, before making his way to the deck.

Stepping outside, he was immediately greeted by a cacophony of sounds that filled the air. The wooden ship groaned and creaked with each movement, its aged timbers protesting against the relentless onslaught of the sea. The sound of wood against wood reverberated throughout the vessel, a constant reminder of the ship's resilience in the face of the tempestuous waters. The ocean surrounding the ship roared and crashed against its hull, the waves pounding against the sturdy planks.

As he made his way to the deck, the Rustler noticed several members of the crew and fellow passengers finding solace in sleep. In a corner, nestled against a stack of crates, some were snoring softly, their breaths creating a soothing yet sporadic melody.

"You guys sure are lucky," he thought, feeling envy over anyone, for a rare, if not first, time.

Reaching the deck, he was greeted by much more vivid sounds: the waves loudly crashing against the boat, the sound of the waves themselves, and the whirling of the winds—the sound of the sail being blown by the wind.

Mingled amidst all that were the distant chatters of the crew members who were on duty and remained awake, sharing stories and laughter amidst the night.

Hugging tightly his little pot, the Rustler went to his little corner, to sit next to a crate, staring at the moons up in the dark sky. There were two moons up tonight: Nox and Phoebe.

That night would be the eighth night the Rustler and Men’ma would spend on the ship, and the next day, the ninth morning. Five days that were, with the Rustler’s motion sickness, nothing short of hellish. So naturally he knew, looking at the moon with all the motion around, wasn’t helping at all.

So he sat there hugging his knees and tugging himself to a corner in hope of calming his motion’s sickness down.

"This hell should be soon o—" he muttered to cheer himself up but stopped mid-sentence upon hearing a strange and oddly familiar sound. One thing even more strange about the sound was that it didn’t come from anywhere on the boat but rather over it.

Climbing atop the wooden crate to see from where the sound came from, the Rustler grew more and more convinced that not only the sound came from over the ship, it also came from somewhere under the sea’s surface.

It didn't take the Rustler long to identify the source of the strange familiarity he felt upon hearing the sound. It was from himself, or more precisely, the noise sounded similar to how he summoned Odo out of his body – the very reason he inherited the nickname: The Rustler. The sound, emanating from somewhere deep beneath the surface, resembled a combination of slithering, rustling leaves, and deep growling.

Continuing his search for the source of the peculiar noise, the Rustler scanned his surroundings intently, his eyes darting back and forth. Suddenly, at that very moment, his gaze fell upon a breathtaking sight. Two enormous blue orbs, resembling jewels from the sky, illuminated deep beneath the surface, directly beneath their ship. The intensity of their glow made the Rustler acutely aware that those luminous orbs were fixated on him. He could feel their penetrating gaze, a pair of eyes locked onto his presence.

With a sense of curiosity and anticipation, the Rustler started scanning his surroundings, eager to pinpoint the origin of the peculiar noise and he did.

There, right beneath their ship, two colossal blue-sky jewels suddenly illuminated from the depths, casting an ethereal glow.

What is that?!

Feeling the intensity of their radiance, the Rustler instinctively knew that he was being watched. The two luminous orbs fixated upon him, their piercing gaze reaching through the water. It was unmistakable—a pair of eyes, shimmering with an otherworldly allure.

For a fleeting moment, the Rustler experienced an unwavering conviction that whatever that entity was, it had locked eyes with him before abruptly vanishing into the depths once again.

His eyes darting around seeking to find the mysterious being, the Rustler was interrupted by a voice commenting, “did you too perhaps feel it?”

“Felt what?” The Rustler replied with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

As the Rustler turned around to face the one who spoke to him, he found the Captain standing behind him. Although the Captain seemed slightly less tense compared to their initial encounter, an air of tension still surrounded him.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

“Did I interrupt something, perhaps? I have, sorry. Imma go my way.”

The Rustler cast a final glance at the dark and depressing water surface, which now seemed to evoke nothing more than a sense of dizziness within him. "No, you didn't interrupt anything. What did you mean when you asked if I felt it too?" he inquired, seeking clarification from the Captain.

“The Slithers.”

“The Slithers?”

“Yes, Sir, the Slither,” he teased, approaching the Rustler to stand by the Rustler, “the noise that earned this place its name: the Slithering Sea.”

“How so?” the Rustler, asked intrigued.

"The Lady Valkyrie never told you about it? It's from an old legend cherished by the Odoe people," the Captain remarked. "I'm certain the Lady Valkyrie can narrate the story far more eloquently than I can. Just know that according to this legend, a monster—a gigantic one is believed to be sealed beneath the surface of this sea. In fact, the legend goes so far as to claim that the sea itself originated from the act of sealing the monster here. If you have the time, I suggest you inquire with Lady Valkyrie and ask her to share the tale with you."

"I suppose I will," the Rustler simply said, his gaze meandering towards the waters. “you… do you believe in it? This legend.”

"Me?" the Captain responded. "Well, I've been navigating these seas ever since I became a mage and departed the continent for Oceanview. From as far back as my memories extend, I've always heard this peculiar sound whenever we reach this particular corner of the sea. Strangely enough, it seems that the others—the non-mages—are completely oblivious to it.” He said, casting a glance around the deck. “So far, only mages like you and I have been able to take notice of it. This undoubtedly suggests the presence of a powerful and unknown force at play here. However, I prefer to believe it's merely a legend. If the legend were true, it would imply that the Slithering originates from the monster and that we are likely sailing directly above it. While I have confidence in facing monsters, something of that magnitude? I'm not so sure. So I'd rather think that this Odoe legend is just what it is: an old legend."

“I see, that makes sense.”

"Oh, speaking of the devil," the Captain exclaimed, a smile forming on his face as his gaze shifted towards the southern horizon. "If you can excuse me, I must take my leave. We have reached a waypoint, marking the halfway point of our journey."

Following his gaze to the southern horizon, the Rustler's eyes naturally fell upon Nox, the shattered moon, in its usual position. However, tonight it wasn't Nox that caught his attention the most in the midst of that vast dark ocean. Instead, there was something else that stood out, surpassing even the presence of Nox.

""Up, up, lads!" bellowed the captain, ringing a resounding bell. “Rise and shine, gentlemen! The First Pillar lies just ahead!”

Radiating a golden lustrous light, shimmering with captivating brilliance, the structure stood tall like a mighty mountain emerging from the sea. One could undoubtedly perceive it as a pillar, but its distinctive shape resembled that of an enormous golden nail. Most likely, only half of it protruded above the water's surface, while the other half remained submerged beneath the ocean's depths.

As the captain's booming voice echoed across the deck, the crew members sprung into action, stirring the deck’s once quiet atmosphere into a lively flurry. Sailors emerged from their slumber, rubbing their eyes and swiftly assuming their respective positions, a lively testament to the crew's seasoned experience.

Amidst the commotion, the captain raised his hand, commanding attention. "Listen up, everyone! We’re getting closer. Adjust the sails swiftly but carefully. I won't have my beloved ship meet its doom against that golden rod ahead," he ordered, his voice carrying authority

"Aye, Captain!" The crew responded in unison.

Just as the Captain bellowed, the ship was getting closer and closer to the golden pillar. The closer they got, the more the Rustler realized how humongous the said pillar was.

"Oh, we've made it to the pillars already," Men'ma exclaimed, her voice tinged with a yawn, as she emerged onto the deck.

“Men’ma, you woke up.”

“Yeah, how could I not with all this commotion?”

She approached, rubbing her eyes or to be exact her visor. "That,” she said, pointing at the pillar. “It’s good for you and your motion sickness. Us seeing the first stave means that we've made it halfway through our naval journey."

“The stave,” the Rustler mumbled, stumbling upon a very familiar name. “You call that pillar stave?”

“Yeah, the Captain calls them the Pillars but seeing how they resemble the staves we have I believe it appropriate to call it home.”

As I thought.

Just as the Rustler began to sense a familiar topic arising, he found himself somewhat perplexed by the mention of "staves" in the middle of the sea, although he was acquainted with the one she possessed back at home.

"And... you mentioned this is the first one, right? Are there others?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Yeah, besides this one, there are six others. We'll be passing by all seven of them," she declared with evident excitement. "Each of those sta—Oh, right, I haven't told you about them."

"Could it be that you're referring to the entity sealed beneath the sea?" he speculated.

Upon hearing this, Men'ma's eyes widened. "Yes, indeed. That's exactly what I was talking about. You're already aware of it?"

"No, the captain briefly mentioned it and suggested I speak to you if I wanted to hear the Odoe version of the myth," he explained.

"He did well," she responded with a smug smile adorning her face. Before rackling her throat, before continuing with a more serious voice. “It’s an old story, one that is said to have taken place not so long after the birth of the Odoe Race.At that time, there weren't many of us Odoe, but the story was passed from one generation to another. It speaks of the battle between our Golden Matriarch and an all-engulfing, flame-wrapped white serpent.”

Men'ma's voice took on an even more passionate tone as she delved deeper into the tale, her words painting vivid images in the Rustler's mind.

The Golden Matriarch, in case you're not aware, is the mother of the first Odoe: Fan and Any, and therefore the mother of the entire Odoe race. She is wise, powerful, merciful, and ethereal, with an unchanging beauty.

"In contrast, the white serpent was a fearsome creature born from the depths of darkness itself, its body was wrapped in flames that consumed everything they touched. Legend spoke of its insatiable hunger and its desire to engulf the world in its fiery embrace."

“Oh, that sounds familiar.”

It sure does.

"Driven by her love for her people and the land they called home, the Golden Matriarch confronted the white serpent who threatened with its flames all that he people held dear. With her lances in hand, and Odoe in her veins she challenges to the white serpent."

"The battle that ensued was a clash of immense power and opposing forces. The Golden Matriarch unleashed her Odo painting the world golden, while the white serpent, relentless and unyielding, retaliated with fiery fury.

Craters were dug, mountains were raised. The epic struggle between the Golden Matriarch and the white serpent raged on for days, with the outcome hanging in the balance. Neither seemed to show signs of losing against the other. However, the battle didn't last weeks. With the help of Odoe, the Golden Matriarch delivered a decisive blow, piercing the serpent with one of her lances. As the serpent writhed in agony, its flames flickering and diminishing, a great sense of relief washed over the land. The Golden Matriarch had triumphed, sealing the weakened serpent's essence deep within the earth on the same grounds where the battle took place. Using seven staves, she nailed a part of its body. Stripped of all its power, the serpent would remain dormant for eternity. Legend has it that the tears of the evil snake would pool up, forming a large body of water that separated the world into two halves, now known as the Central and Southern Continents.”

“So you mean…”

"Yes, this is where the battle between our Matriarch and the white serpent took place. Isn't it epic?" she said, with her arms wide open.

“Yeah, if it’s true that is.”

"Of course, it is! I mean, why wouldn't it be? Just look at that golden stave jutting out of the water! If that isn't proof enough for you, I don't know what is," Men'ma exclaimed, gesturing toward the large pillar the ship was slowly approaching, her voice tinged with incredulity.

“I guess that does in fact count as a proof but still something doesn’t make sense to me.”

“What?”

“If the snake was such a tough opponent, why not simply finish it instead of sealing it?"

Upon being asked that question, Men'ma remained silent, seemingly understanding where he was coming from.

“The Matriarch is a merciful being.”

That’s just you reaching out, isn’t it?

"Sealing a being for eternity, stripping it of all freedom, doesn't sound very merciful to me. It sounds more like something someone who enjoys suffering of others would do," The Rustler remarked.

"Oh," Men'ma laughed, "I see what you're trying to do. I'm not falling for that."

I’m not doing anything though.

"In any case," Men'ma resumed, "after sealing the white serpent, the Matriarch would return home to her people and the sacred Odo tree. She would later crown the brave Odoe, who had helped her against the serpent. And thus, the first valkyries were born: the four sisters' valkyries."

As she uttered these words, Men'ma reached out to her crown, looking prouder than she had ever looked before.

"Then after that, all's well that ends well"

“Except for the snake,” the Rustler remarked, a glance over the ship.

“Except for the snake,” she nodded.

Somehow, the Rustler felt sad for the snake. Why? Because it reminded him of a story he used to love as a child, and it also reminded him of what he, as a kid, truly wanted.