The village Chief moved forward, motioning for me to follow. “Come on, let’s go,” he urged, stepping into the tree house. I trailed behind him as he pushed aside the thick, heavy curtains, which served as a makeshift door, granting us entry into the space. Stepping inside, I finally got a glimpse of who awaited us -the caretakers.
Before me stretched a long, vibrant red carpet, flanked on either side by five intriguing individuals. On one side, stood a stunning young woman, radiating curves and exuding an aura of youthfulness that suggested she was in her early or mid-twenties. She wore the traditional female tulga, emphasizing her connection to the village’s heritage. Beside her stood a slim, and elegant woman in her thirties, wearing a one-shoulder sleeveless crop top and a tulga cinched around her waist.
Completing the trio was an elderly man, his age appearing to be in his eighties or nineties, his weathered face telling tales of a long and eventful life. Given the village’s longevity, it was entirely possible that he was even older than his appearance suggested.
On the opposing side of the carpet, a mature woman exuded an air of wisdom and experience, seemingly in her fifties. Her poised demeanour hinted at the weight of responsibilities she had shouldered throughout the years. By her side sat a man in his mid-sixties, exuding a sense of quiet strength and authority. Both were wearing the village’s traditional tulga.
‘So these are the Caretakers, huh!’ I silently mused, my eyes scanning each of their faces as they turned to acknowledge our presence. Stepping into the room alongside the Village Chief, I couldn’t help but take in the interior of the tree cabin. It had a somewhat sombre atmosphere, with the wooden walls adorned only by a few scattered flower and tree paintings.
The room seemed to lack vibrancy, save for the long, striking red carpet that stretched through the centre, injecting a burst of colour. The Caretakers were seated on a thick, sturdy platform crafted from rich brown wood, which served as their communal space.
“Chief, you have returned!” expressed one of the elderly men, his voice filled with surprise as his eyes locked onto the Village Chief. However, his curiosity quickly shifted towards me as he directed his gaze in my direction. With a quizzical expression, he asked, “Is this…?”
The Village Chief swiftly interjected, his voice firm and commanding, as he pointed a finger directly at me. “This is Orion,” he stated, redirecting his attention to the individuals seated along the carpeted pathway. With a slight gesture, he indicated a spot for me to sit. “Orion, please take a seat here,” he instructed before walking toward a small wooden platform positioned at the centre of the far end of the vibrant red carpet.
As all eyes focused on me, the Village Chief took his place at the front, settling down on the wooden platform. He surveyed the room before addressing the assembled group. “As you can tell, I am here to discuss a matter of great importance, with Orion being the central focus, as always,” he began. “Having shared with him the options we have carefully deliberated upon, Orion has made an unexpected decision not to choose either of them.”
A wave of whispers rippled through the room, voices carrying just loud enough to hang in the air. Even the man seated near me leaned in, whispering to the woman beside him, their hushed tones barely perceptible to my keen ears. The elderly man next to me narrowed his eyes at me for a moment, before he shifted his gaze back to the Village Chief. 𝙗𝙚𝙙𝙣𝒐𝙫𝙚𝙡.𝙤𝙧𝒈
“I am not finished yet,” the Village Chief raised his head, silencing the murmurs as he continued speaking. “Orion has declined the offered options, but he proposes an alternative that he wishes to discuss with all of you. He seeks your thoughts and opinions on this matter.”
The woman in her early thirties, who exuded an air of confidence, spoke up from the opposite side of the room. “Very well,” she said with an intent tone, capturing everyone’s attention. “Since we are all gathered here, let us hear what he has to say.” The others nodded in agreement, their expressions curious and expectant. Even the Village Chief turned his gaze towards me, signalling for me to proceed.
Feeling the weight of their gazes, I took a deep breath and began to express my thoughts. “Thank you all for allowing me this opportunity,” I started, my voice carrying a sense of firmness. “I have given considerable thought to the options presented to me, but I believe there might be another path worth exploring.” I continued, “And although, it may seem unconventional or even delusional to some. But if you can suspend judgment and truly listen to what I have to say, I assure you that it will not be a disappointment, and your time will not be wasted.”
“Alright, don’t keep us waiting any longer. Tell us what you have in mind,” the man who appeared to be the oldest in the room expressed, his voice carrying a sense of urgency and impatience. His words seemed to echo the sentiments of the others, as they leaned forward, their eyes fixed on me, eagerly awaiting my response.
“I would like for us to come together and grow the village,” I expressed, my voice filled with decisiveness.
The woman in her early thirties raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Doesn’t that mean you choose the first option, or is there something else I’m missing?” she questioned. I shook my head, a hint of scepticism in my expression. While the idea of their support and financial backing for my endeavours to fuck with as many willing women as I desired seemed enticing, it also raised concerns.
The contradiction of their willingness to fund my pursuits while simultaneously setting limits made me question their true intentions.
I pondered the hidden motives behind the options presented to me. Were there traps or ulterior conversations hidden within the options? As key individuals of the village, it seemed unlikely that the situation was as straightforward as it appeared.
I wanted to uncover any underlying complexities or potential risks before making a decision. After all, a simple agreement with such influential figures was bound to have more layers than met the eye.
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