The morning sun cast its gentle rays through the parted curtains, slowly illuminating the room where the Rustler had spent the night. As the first light of day danced upon his closed eyelids, he began to stir from his slumber.
Stretching his limbs and blinking his eyes open, the Rustler found himself momentarily disoriented. It took a few moments for his surroundings to come into focus. He shifted on the comfortable bed, his gaze traveling across the well-appointed room, still basking in the warmth of the morning light.
"Yet another dreamless night I guess," he sighed.
It didn’t take him to identify what was wrong with the sight he woke upon.
First, he was awake, which meant that he had been asleep. While there was nothing wrong about being asleep, it was the way he had slept that left him restless. He didn't slumber in the Odo cocoon as he had for the past four years; instead, he slept in a way that most people referred to as normal. However, that also meant he experienced dreamless slumbers, just like those "normal" people.
He understood that this was the normal way of things, that people were not meant to be constantly dreaming. However, when one had spent their life living outside the bounds of normalcy, as he had, normalcy often appeared strange from one's perspective. Adjusting to it was undoubtedly a challenging and at times despairing task.
Although groggy and still somewhat annoyed by the realization, the Rustler understood that sulking about it was useless, as he had learned over the past few weeks. This was not the first time he had experienced this, but each time upon waking up, he couldn't help but feel annoyed by the realization. As always, he stood up and walked toward a mirror, staring at his own reflection. In the mirror, he saw a small ageless body with blue eyes. His arm shone in a golden light, and a pair of golden antlers shimmered in the same radiant glow. It was a sight that might appear freaky to others, they had all the right to think so, but for him, it was simply—or perhaps not-so-simply, himself.
Just like every morning from the day after he arrived at the Men’ma’s family mansion, the Rustler went on to clean and change himself, before stopping at a mirror, staring at his own reflection. As he did so, with the left hand he reached out at his antlers, proceeding to absorb them into his arm.
Each morning, as the Rustler went through this now familiar routine, he couldn't help but feel a surge of irony at the sight of himself having to perform this act. Yet, deep down, he understood that he hadn't been given a choice in the matter. Remembering the words of the eldest, "a crown is not something for you to bear, was it?"
With a calm acceptance, the Rustler focused his attention on his golden antlers. Slowly, he began to absorb them, allowing them to meld seamlessly into his arm. The process left no visible scars, except for perhaps two golden spots that he skillfully concealed by arranging his bangs.
Satisfied with the result, he stepped away from the mirror, leaving his room to join Men’ma’s family for the morning’s breakfast.
"Good morning, Rustler," everyone at the low table greeted.
"Good morning," the Rustler greeted back.
Just as it has been the day before and the day before it and in fact just as it has been the past few weeks the one to welcome him were Men’ma’s family, and not Men’ma herself for she was not around. Since the day after their return she proved herself to be highly busy with her duty as a valkyrie, so far he’d only seen her three times in the two weeks he’s been around.
"I'm really sorry," Men'ma's mother suddenly started, perhaps catching up with the Rustler's train of thought. "Men'ma hasn't been around that much since her return. I feel like she just abandoned you here. You must feel bored around with nothing to do, don't you?"
"No, Madam. I’m just fine," he said.
"If you’re bored come play with us," offered a little cousin of Men’ma.
"Yeah," backed another one even more energetically.
Uncertain of what else to say and realizing that outright rejecting the boys' offer in the presence of so many of his family seemed like a bad idea, the Rustler smiled politely in response.
"Hey, don't shout when you're eating, you’re sending food flying everywhere," scolded a girl of around twelve sitting just next to them. Though far younger than Men'ma, one could distinctly point out the facial peculiarity they, as cousins, shared.
The girl, similar to Men'ma's mother and a few others in the others among which was another cousin of hers of roughly the same age, had golden protrusions coiling around both arms like cuffs. However, unlike Men'ma's mother, she only had one protrusion, coiling around her arm on her left arm.
While the Rustler was staring at her cuff-like protrusion, the girl's eyes met his, and she smiled before averting her gaze. Somehow, her reaction felt very familiar.
"Your little Aunt is right, Tsi’ry, Tan’jona, it’s very impolite to shout when eating," Men’ma’s mother scolded. "Now just finish up, and immediately go get yourself ready, we’re not waiting for those who are late today."
"Understooood, Grandma," the boys replied the children they were.
Noticing the mood, which he could clearly tell was different from the usual breakfast atmosphere, the Rustler sensed that something was amiss with them all today. Perhaps recognizing his puzzled expression, Men'ma's father, who had remained silent thus far, finally addressed the change, asking, "Is there a problem, Rustler?"
"No, not at all," he immediately denied, before going on to venture, "it’s just that I was wondering, is there something happening today?"
He looked at the Rustler puzzled for a moment before, as if coming to a realization, explaining, "you do not know what day today is?"
He was tempted to shake but then a detail of what he saw yesterday from his terrasse came to him, making him realize, "... a lunar harmony," he mumbled.
"Yes, it’s today," Men’ma’s father confirmed.
"Nana, the children, and I are heading to the Odo tree to celebrate Lunar Harmony... Do you have any knowledge about it?"
"Knowing that child I doubt she explained that," Men’ma’s mother added.
"I do," the Rustler replied. "Odoe… Common Odoe from the central continent are also celebrating it," he explained.
"Oh, they do? That’ll spare us the explanation about this all about then."
A glance from her husband, Men'ma's mother took over the explanation. "As my dear husband has explained, he and I are taking the children to the Odo tree to celebrate Lunar Harmony. We may not know how it is celebrated by the Odoe of the central continent, but here, we celebrate it beneath the shade of the Odo tree."
"That is the only and proper way," commented someone from the table, speaking in a manner reminiscent of Men'ma's way of boasting about all things Odoe-related. The comment received nods of approval from almost everyone at the table.
"This is going to, as always, be a huge celebration partaken by many of Odoe of the capital. We’ll even have the Valkyries leading the ceremony."
"So Men’ma is going to be there?"
Men'ma's parents exchanged a gaze. "Yes, now that she's finally back, I assume she's going to. But I don't think we're going to be able to interact with her; she's most likely going to be busy, especially considering she wasn't even able to come back these past few days."
"I see," the Rustler simply said, returning to the plate in front of him.
It was then as he did, that Men’ma’s mother offered, "would you be interested in joining us to that ceremony, it would be an unique experience?"
Instinctively, he was prompted to answer "no," but recalling how empty days can be as late since he made it past the stave, he took his time to consider the offer. "Would it really be okay for me to join, I mean after all I look like this," he eventually asked, before coming to a decision.
"It should be, right?" Men’ma’s mother said, eying at her husband who went on to confirm. "Yes, it should be alright. You’re our daughter’s guest, and in her absence she entrusted you to us. She never gave us a policy about keeping you hidden from the world, so as long as you’re with us, I think it should be fine," he reassured.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
"I see. If that's the case and my presence doesn't bother you, I would like to tag along."
At that very moment he confirmed his desire to go, the Rustler suddenly heard his response, it made commotion at the table, but none of it at least seemed against his presence and were in fact seemed thrilled about it.
"In that case," Men’ma’s mother, "after breakfast come with me, we’ll dress you up properly for the occasion."
***
"Are the clothes actually comfortable? Do they fit well?"
Sitting inside the carriage, the Rustler glanced down at his attire. Like Men'ma's parents and everyone else in the carriage, he was dressed in white, but there was one noticeable exception—the glove on his right hand, concealing the fact that it was made of Odo.
Unlike Men'ma's mother, who seemed unperturbed with the thought of having him not hiding his arm's true aspect, the Rustler felt that openly displaying his arm would only invite nothing but trouble, especially when considering what the Eldest reaction to his crown was.
In the face of his reluctance, Men'ma's mother didn't insist on him going without the glove. However, she suggested that along with the glove, he should wear a golden garment, resulting in him adorning rings on at least two fingers of both hands, as well as leaf-designed gold straps.
"They do. Thanks for lending them to me," The Rustler said, addressing her concern.
"Don’t mention it, it was just laying there taking dust it any longer fit any of our children and was still too big for our grandchildren, glad they fit you just right," Men’ma’s mother warmly smiled.
As the carriage advanced rhythmically along the cobblestone road, the Rustler found himself lost in thought, momentarily forgetting his purpose. He gazed out of the window, observing the road becoming increasingly crowded as more people flowed in the same direction as their carriage: They all advanced toward the mother tree.
"You’re okay? I heard from Men’ma that you’re having hard time with carriage?" Men’ma’s mother asked, as they were inside the carriage advancing.
"No, I'm fine. This amount of swaying isn't really enough for me to feel bad."
"I see, that’s good then."
A momentary silence would take place inside the carriage before Men’ma’s father would call his name, asking, "Rustler, may I ask you something?"
"Yes, of course, what is it?"
"I know this may sound strange, considering the fact that you have spent very little time here and have hardly been outside locked in our house. However, I wanted to know your opinion as someone who is not from here. What are your impressions of our capital?"
"My impression of the capital?"
"Yes, your impression, your perspective as an outsider, of what our capital looks like, our architecture. I would like to know what you think of what you’re seeing from this window," he said, gesturing towards the passing scenery outside the moving carriage.
The Architecture, huh?
The Rustler gazed out of the window, taking in the sights of the capital. From where they were, they were passing through a path flanked by towering buildings–that’s pretty much all he, architecturally, could remark. Pondering as to what he could constructively say, his thoughts swirled, but he hesitated to express them aloud.
Sensing the Rustler's contemplation, Men'ma's father chimed in reassuringly, "No need to think about it too deeply. It's mainly for my work. Anything you notice or even a small remark will suffice."
"Your work?"
"Didn’t my daughter tell you? I’m what you can call an "architect" or "master builder," as some prefer to call what we do. Basically, we build houses."
Hearing this, Men'ma's father’s interest in the details about castles and the architecture of the central continent, which he had shown on the Rustler's first day in the house, finally made sense. It was because of his job as an architect.
"I see. She never told me that."
"That child seriously," Men’ma’s mother lamented, sighing.
"In case you didn’t know," Men’ma’s father then added, "I’m not only one being an architect, pretty all adults in our family are."
"Being an architect is the family’s profession if you may say," Men’ma’s mother proudly smiled.
"Do you see those tall and towering buildings?" Men’ma’s father pointed from the windows, "we were the ones behind their creation."
"In fact if you see a towering building in the capital, there is a large likelihood that our family was behind it."
"Oh, that’s impressive," the Rustler mused, genuinely intrigued.
"Perhaps but I know it—that there are still ways out there to improve our craft, so any kind of remark from someone who has seen more than just scenery I believe might help in that regard."
"I see…that’s understandable."
"That being said it’s not like You’re saying that but it’s not like that gave me an idea of as to what to," the Rustler internally mused.
Peering outside the carriage at the house around and making a mental note of what he noticed felt different between this place and how the central continent’s cities were.
"What I’m about to say might sound very generic and in no way be constructive, but the first thing that strikes me about what I can see from here is how tightly packed those tall buildings are."
At that moment, Men'ma's father surprisingly received the seemingly random and superficial comment with a positive outlook. His eyes widening behind the curious device perched on his nose, which he adjusted with a gentle touch of his finger.
"Please continue, you see me all ears?" He said.
Men’ma’s father looked eager to hear what the Rustler had to add to his initial comment, so the latter chose to at least entertain him in that regard, even though he himself wasn’t sure of the relevance of what he was about to utter.
"—Not sure if that’s relevant, but where I came from, in the cities I visited in the central, there were building that rival those I’m seeing here, they’re usually Raj’s or really wealthy arbian, in most case it’s the latter, but usually when someone own a structure like that it often comes with a domain."
"A domain…"
"Yes, usually there is a large garden that covers a relatively large plot of land surrounding the actual structure. Sometimes the said-property is just a yard, sometimes it's a garden, but typically structures of this bearing are surrounded by tall towering walls. So when I see what I’m seeing here…" He began but chose to not finish the sentence as he felt that Men’ma’s father already got his point across.
"I see, what I’m hearing there is quite not like what we have here indeed."
Towering structures were not what was lacking in the capital, especially not in its inner rings. They were, one could say, scattered about everywhere, with one here, another there. In fact, many of them were situated so close to each other that there was no distinct separation or domain between them. They were so closely positioned that from a distance, one could easily mistake some of the structures as a single entity.
"This is why I wanted an outer and objective perspective," Men’ma’s father nodded, seemingly satisfied. "What you just pointed out actually highlighted what our family considers to be the capital's biggest flaw."
"The city’s biggest flaw?"
"Yes," he nodded, approaching the window before pointing towards the horizon, "as you might have noticed, the majority of the capital's impressive buildings are heavily concentrated in the inner circle that surrounds the seven bridges leading to the Odo tree. Do you know why?"
The Rustler didn’t even have to put much thought on it to guess the answer. "Because everyone wishes to be close to the Odo tree,"
"Exactly—there is one policy that overrides all other policies when it comes to seeking a place to stay or build here in the capital: the closer to the Odo tree, the better. It is because of that desire that we have this view. Since everyone wishes to be as close as possible to the Odo tree—a goal that is objectively understandable—no one can afford the luxury of having a large domain or a garden surrounding their household, at least not on this side of the ring. This has resulted in the tightly packed sight that you see before you."
"A similar policy, or to be exact, logic could be applied to the outer corner of the ring surrounding the Odo tree," he further explained. "While most people, depending on their personal circumstances, cannot afford to live as close as possible to the Odo tree, they would generally aim to at least live under its shade. This, in turn, results in a similar phenomenon as what we see here in the inner part of the ring, but on a much larger scale."
When Men'ma's father pointed it out, the Rustler also noticed the details. Upon their arrival in the capital, the habitation was sparsely arranged with scattered tall buildings here and there. However, as their carriage proceeded under the shades of the Odo tree, the scattered dwellings gave way to tightly packed residences.
"Once again, that is an understandable tendency, knowing what being under the shade of the Odo tree represents," Men'ma's father explained. The couple then looked at each other before asking, "do you know how it’s working? How being under the shades of the Odo tree affects us Odoe?"
Having studied the subject from various aspects in his younger days, the Rustler naturally knew. However, he recognized that there was still more to learn, so he humbly replied, "I am aware that being under the shade of the Odo tree grants Odoe the power to wield Odo."
"That’s exact, but that’s not all."
Men’ma’s mother took over the explanation. "Not only is it being under the shade of the Odo tree that grants us the power to wield odo, it is said by our people’s belief that the closer you are to the Odo tree, the greater is the likelihood for the child to be born to born as a winged Odoe."
Scaled, veined, and winged—the three naturally occurring kinds of Odoe. Each kind represented a specific amount of Odo that an individual could summon. From the moment of their birth, the scaled Odoe were determined. They possessed scattered golden scales adorning their bodies, ranging from their arms to their faces and beyond. Considered the caste with the least amount of Odo to summon, they were followed by the veined Odoe. These individuals were easily recognized by the intricate vessels-like patterns that covered parts, and sometimes even all, of their bodies. Lastly, there were the winged Odoe, distinguished by the presence of actual golden protrusions—additional appendages or even extra limbs of Odo essence fused with their bodies just like it has been with Men’ma’s mother who had cuff-like protrusion coming out of her elbow and coiling around of both her forearms.
"In other words, the closer you are to the Odo tree at the time of birth, the higher the likelihood that an Odoe will be born with a larger reserve of Odo. This is something all Odoe parents would dream for their children, but well, it's just a belief," explained Men’ma’s mother.
"You don’t believe in it?"
"It's not that we don't believe in it," Men'ma's father took over to explain, "but we have our own reasons to doubt it. Nevertheless, to many, that would be quite the hypocritical thing to say, considering how close our household is to the Odo tree and the fact that almost all members of our family are winged Odoe," he added with a derisive chuckle. "Oh, we've made it past the bridge. We're close now. I suppose we'll have to table this discussion for the next time. I'll be glad to hear any other remarks," the Rustler suggested.
"And I’ll be happy to help."