The Rustler returned to the capital, leaving a part of himself beyond the staves once again. Just the thought alone made him sigh in contemplation.
Instantly, the sigh caught the attention of everyone at the low table, including Men'ma and her parents. After being quasi-absent for the past few weeks, she had finally found time to remain in the residence, and today marked the third day since her return.
"Is something the matter?" Men'ma asked, concern evident in her voice.
"No," he immediately denied.
"You're sure?" Men'ma's mother added, her gaze fixed on him.
"Yes, it was nothing, please don't mind me," he reassured them, forcing a smile.
The family exchanged glances, and on those silent nods, the dinner proceeded as per usual. Yet, there was a subtle difference tonight, as there had been in the past few days since Men'ma's arrival. The atmosphere was livelier, with Men'ma's parents being more animated and chatty, and Men'ma herself radiating her vibrant presence.
The sight tugged at the Rustler's heart, evoking both nostalgia and melancholy, for it reminded him of what he once had, or at least something similar.
Of course, back then it was him alone at his table, and the rambling was never-ending. At first, he hated hearing that voice, but then that night happened, and he began looking forward to what he had to say. It seemed there was never a shortage of scolding to give, lessons to teach, or stories to share. But now, there was none of that. There was just this.
"I guess this is fine too," the Rustler sighed, this time internally.
Returning his full attention to finishing his dinner, he quickly consumed the meal, longing for the day to come to an end. Once the dinner was finished, he bid his farewells and retreated to his room, eager to escape the weight of the day and welcome the solace of sleep.
But just as he retreated up the stairs to his room, he was ambushed by Men’ma, who called out to him. "Hey," she called. "Hey," he replied, his curiosity piqued. "Is there a problem?" he asked.
"No, I was just about to ask how you're doing?" she said with genuine concern.
"How I'm doing..." he trailed off, unsure of how to express himself.
"You seemed... preoccupied earlier, and not just today, but for the past few days. Even Mother and Father noticed it," she continued.
"That's..." he began, struggling to find the right words.
"You've been like that since that day we spent in the stave. Did something happen there?" she inquired, her eyes searching his face for answers.
He understood that her words were spoken out of genuine care, but he knew he couldn't easily share the depth of his feelings with her. He couldn't find the right starting point to explain everything that was troubling him. So, he quickly dismissed her concerns, saying, "Just as I said, don't worry about me. Sorry if I seemed 'not fine,' but it'll pass."
"Are you sure? You can talk to me if you want," she insisted.
"Thanks for the offer, but I'll be fine," he assured her. "If that's all, then good night. What I might need now is a good night of sleep."
"I understand," she nodded, accepting his response. But as he began to ascend the stairs, she called out to him again. "Hey, Rustler," she said. "Hm?" he replied, turning to face her.
"Just wait a bit," she requested.
"Wait a bit?" he echoed, confused.
"I understand that things might not be what you were hoping for, but as soon as I can, I'll try talking to the Eldest... We'll find something for you, so just be a little patient," she promised.
He neither nodded nor shook his head in response, instead choosing to remain silent. Men'ma interpreted his silence as his answer. "Now then, it's getting late. Have a good night," she bid him.
He nodded in acknowledgment, and they both parted ways, with him heading to his room and her returning to her family's side.
Upon entering his room, he let out a deep sigh of exhaustion. He moved quickly, throwing himself onto his bed, burying his head into the soft pillow. In a muffled voice, he couldn't help but complain, "Another day passed, neither accomplishing nor doing anything, yet why do I feel so tired? How does this even make sense?"
Seeking solace in the embrace of his pillow, he closed his planning to do what he came in his room for: sleeping with the hope that perhaps tomorrow would be a better day. Deep down he knew it would not.
It was then, his eyes shut, trying to sleep, that he once again heard 'it,' along with a distant unified commotion.
Lifting himself out of bed, he proceeded to the small terrace of his room to witness a sight he had now seen for the third time since arriving in the capital. The first occurrence was on the day of his arrival, the second during a ceremony, and now it is happening again—the Odo tree shedding its golden leaves. The leaves cascaded down like glittering stars, gracefully descending from the dark, starless canopy formed by the branches of the Odo tree above that section of the capital.
“Is this going to happen again?” he briefly asked himself, before concluding once again by himself, “Most likely.”
Unlike the previous time when he simply waited for a leaf to land on his hand, this time he proactively reached out his hand and caught a leaf gliding down toward him. Without much surprise, it happened again. He found himself transported to a dream-like world.
"Dream… Greetings.”
A male voice spoke, his voice vaguely familiar, leading him to momentarily assume it would be that voice once again taking the spotlight. However, the entry of a second voice made it clear that this encounter would involve not just one, but both of them.
"Greetings," she greeted in a voice that obviously wasn’t hers.
While their first interaction left him somewhat skeptical regarding the identity of his interlocutor, his second encounter made it clear with whom he was dealing with.
"Since you've gone through the trouble of doing this for the third time in a row in a very short period of time for the purpose of, I assume, having this conversation, how about we skip the unnecessary formalities and get straight to the point?"
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“Indeed,” one said, then “I would agree,” responded the other in agreement, their tones overlapping in an unsettlingly harmonious accord.
In that moment, both the girl and the boy assumed forms that were clearly not their own. They materialized at a distance that appeared to be just a few meters away from him. The girl, who introduced herself as Any, took on a shape resembling the one he had left beyond the staves, while the boy, named Fan, stood right beside her, assuming a much more familiar form: his own.
Naturally, he wasn't pleased by the spectacle before him, but he had a nagging feeling that they wouldn't listen even if he were to ask. Forcing them to comply didn't seem like a viable option, especially considering who they were.
"So, what do the first-born Odoe, Fan and Any, want from me?"
In order to elicit such a reaction from the Odo tree every time they wished to communicate with him, there were only a few possibilities as to who it could be, and those two occupied the highest positions on the list. The fact that they so easily revealed their identities also made it clear to him as to who, or rather, what exactly they were.
“You know we are,” began Fan.
“You should also know what we want,” continued Any. “Didn’t I already tell you last time what we would like to know?”
"You did mention something along those lines. 'What I would like to become,' was it? But I've had enough experience with voices in my head to understand that it's never truly about what I want, but rather what you want. So, what is it that you seek from me?"
"Voices in your head? Wouldn't that just be you," Any said, walking up to him. "Just as you know who we are, we know what you used to be."
"Dragon... but no longer, now primeval beasts," Fan corrected. "Then arbian, then wyrmling, then serpent."
At that moment, questions swirled in the Rustler's mind. Serpent? Primeval beasts? When? How? Why had he never heard of this? He kept those questions to himself, partly because he didn't feel like sharing more than necessary with them, and partly because they seemed mistaken about his identity, something he didn't see himself clearing up anytime soon.
"Now arbian once again, but not just arbian anymore. You are something else, something that those before you never were—something new. Something like what we used to be. Do you know what we call it? What our mother called it."
"A miracle," the siblings spoke in unison.
"Do you know what it is?"
"A miracle is what is born from what is not mundane—Something divine. We are what is born from Gods, and you from Dragons."
The words hung in the air, their weight sinking into the Rustler's consciousness. He took a moment to process what they had just told him. Once he did, he simply said, "If you think so, good for you. But I have yet to hear what exactly you want from me?"
At these words the siblings looked at each other then declared, with open arms, “We want you, fleeting remnants of the one who was before, to be at our side in the Odo Tree.”
Hearing that proposition that sounded more like a threat than an actual warm offer, his hand instinctively curled into a fist. “What aspect of me could’ve possibly seen that made you think that I would be remotely interested in doing that?”
“We’ve seen it through her,” Any began shifting into Men’ma’s form. “We might have lied about a lot of things, but one thing is certain: you have a hole in your heart, we can fill that.” She stepped forward, her gaze intense. “All those years, in that long quest to restore what is no more, it must’ve been lonely.”
“You don’t have to be anymore,” Fan followed. “We’ll be there for you. I, Any, Mothers and all others Valkyrie.”
"You want a purpose?" Any asked, her voice taking on the familiar tone and face of Men'ma. "We can offer you that. Join us, and together we will overcome the mundanes' end: death. Join us, and let us ascend to godhood."
"Join us, and together we will fulfill our dream of conquering the moons.”
To these words, so familiar-sounding, his heart skipped a beat, prompting a wave of old yet not forgotten emotions to wash over him. Memories long buried resurfaced, intertwining with the present moment, creating a tapestry of nostalgia and longing within his heart.
“Conquering the moons,” he mumbled halfly to himself. “Now that I think of it, that has always been your goal.”
“Yes. Come and join us in the Odo Tree, and not only will we conquer the moons, we’ll conquer the suns altogether,” they declared, both their hands held out toward him. “What do you say?”
Their proposition hung in the air, heavy with temptation and power. Any's eyes gleamed with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity—a gleam clearly borrowed from Men'ma. In contrast, Fan stared at him with a lifeless expression, yet it was as if he gazed upon his own reflection, aware that he, like his sister, awaited his answer with anticipation.
He looked at the hands held onto him, and thought, “Perhaps this is the way he's not here anymore, conquering the suns, conquering the moons. Those words mean nothing to me anymore—no, what am I saying, once again. If those words mean nothing to me then what is it that I’m feeling here.”
Drifting away from their outstretched hands, his gaze shifted to his own. Unlike their two previous encounters, he could now clearly see himself in this dream-like realm. He stared at his hands, glaring at the stark contrast between them.
Raising his left hand, he began to reach out towards them, but then abruptly halted midway.
"What am I doing?" he asked himself, questioning his actions as he stopped his hand.
“There is nothing to hesitate for.” Any answered on his behalf, reassuming Men’ma’s shape once again. “This is what she would have wanted: you to serve a nobler cause: her people’s cause? This is how she would have wanted her Odo to be put to use.”
It is not.
“This is also what you want,” Fan also answered. “What are you hesitating for? What not doing what your heart is telling you to do?”
"What my heart is telling me to do...," he mumbled to himself. However, instead of inwardly asking himself the question, he found himself pondering what Suraxai would have imagined his response being.
Why am I questioning what he would want me to do? He's gone, along with his dream of astral conquest and mine of adventure—No.
I'm wrong. This isn't true.
The only thing that is gone is him. Everything, his desire for the conquest of 9 suns and 7 moons, my scars, and, of course, my desire for adventure—they're all still here.
They've just been suppressed by that staff of theirs. He may be gone, but the one I have always been meant to be is still whole. That’s it, I still have it—something I want to do—a purpose.
Feeling a sense of clarity and purpose washing over him, he silently looked at the sibling who, without uttering a word, simply stared back. Until the moment arrived when they, along with the dream-like fabric, gradually faded away, their ethereal forms dissipating into the dream-like surroundings.
Less abruptly than it did last time, the surroundings reverted to what they always should have been. He found himself standing on his room's terrace, the leaf he had held turning to dust and dispersing into the distance from his hand.
He looked into the distance and saw the Odo tree. In that moment, things had never been clearer to him: What he wanted to do? What he wanted to do? He finally figured them out.
Sure, he did have other questions he wanted answers for but they could wait.
He turned around, surveying the room as his gaze swept across the closed door. He muttered to himself, "This is fine as it is," before climbing up onto the terrace balustrade and throwing himself off.
Having neither Suraxai's arcane wind to soften his landing nor access to his own Aero-elementalis to gently carry him down, he summoned his Odo, which provided him with a relatively gentle landing near the entrance to the residence.
"I really need to regain access to my elementalis, and, of course, the Nexus sys—No, not yet. One thing at a time. Fixing this stave issue comes first."
He cast a final glance at Men'ma's family residence as he embarked on his journey, feeling a tinge of sadness over the sight. However, this sentiment would soon be washed away by his newfound sense of purpose and determination. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked away, leaving behind the role of a guest in that household definitively.
***
It was very late at night, well past midnight. Climbing up the last few steps leading to the Valkyrie domain, the Rustler briskly strode in the direction of the Odo Tree.
“This is going to be one of those make it or break it situations but there is simply no going back now.”