༺ 𓆩 Chapter 2 𓆪 ༻
「Translator — Creator」
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠂ ⚘᠃
“You shouldn’t be galloping in a place like this. It’s dangerous.”
Jab’s tone was half a scold, short and to the point. Hunbish, drained of strength and covered in dirt, hung limply in his friend’s grasp.
“You act like I have anywhere else to ride.”
Hunbish pouted, his voice colored by irritation.
Perhaps it was the strange relief that came from seeing Jab’s familiar face. Or maybe a touch of envy — Jab, a member of the village scout patrol, spent most of his time in the wide-open training grounds.
“Oh, look who’s talking back. Want me to toss you off that cliff again?”
Jab grinned and shook Hunbish’s arm playfully.
To Jab, it was nothing. But with every shake, Hunbish’s body flailed like a flag caught in the wind.
The difference in their physiques and strength had long grown stark.
“Whoa, hey! Stop it! I get it, okay?! I said I’m sorry!”
“When someone saves your life, you say thank you right then and there.”
“Thank you! I mean it, thanks! Now cut it out!”
Jab’s teasing finally ended when Hunbish, flustered and wide-eyed, blurted his thanks in panic.
For someone as stubborn and emotionally guarded as Hunbish, this kind of direct prodding worked best. Jab knew that.
And sometimes, when he pushed a bit too far — well, that was just how boys their age behaved.
“Anyway, don’t you have work to do? Weren’t you on patrol?”
“I was. Then I saw you out here and figured I’d stop by like everyone else.”
At that, Hunbish felt like a zoo animal on display.
He knew Jab hadn’t meant anything by it.
His friend had always been painfully oblivious to things like that.
But Tamir — Tamir was nothing like Jab.
They didn’t cross paths often, but whenever they did, Tamir made his hatred loud and clear. He harassed Hunbish with open malice.
Hunbish couldn’t understand why Tamir acted that way.
If anything, he was the one who should be angry — he was the one still waiting for closure from what happened during the coming-of-age ceremony.
Then the group that had been watching Hunbish approached on horseback.
At the front, as always, was Tamir.
“Shame you didn’t just fall and die. Would’ve saved us all the trouble. Not like you’d survive long after being exiled anyway, not in that body.”
"Are you done talking? And I'm not going to be banished."
Tamir sneered, chest puffed with smugness, and Hunbish snapped back, unable to hold back his anger.
He wiped his face with his sleeve, glaring defiantly.
“What the hell are you even talking about? You’re not seriously going to pretend you don’t know the tradition of Olus, are you?”
“Oh? You mean the one where if you bring back three golden-furred martens, they don’t banish you?”
“You what?”
The boys riding with Tamir turned to each other — and then burst into raucous laughter.
Martens, by nature, were elusive creatures, dwelling deep within the mountains and forests, skittish and alert to the faintest sound. At the slightest sign of movement, they vanished into the undergrowth.
Riding up on horseback with all that noise? You’d be lucky to even see a strand of their fur.
For Hunbish, with his limp, hunting such a quick and wary animal was nearly impossible.
“Honestly, I think you’ll get hunted before you ever hunt a marten.”
The boys who’d been laughing took turns adding their jabs, cracking up at their own cruel humor.
Each one of them was still on horseback, riding in slow circles around Hunbish. The movement made his head spin.
“That was a good joke. But seriously, Hun,”
Tamir had stopped laughing.
From atop his horse, he looked down on Hunbish, his voice low and sharp.
With the sun spilling over Tamir’s shoulders, Hunbish had to squint against the glare.
“Uhule Hunbish. Don’t forget what your name means. Just because I respond when you speak doesn’t mean you should get ideas about your place.”
“.............,,,”
At Tamir's high-handed tone, Hun's head seemed to freeze cold.
That haughty attitude, like he was speaking to a servant, made his rage boil over.
He had grown up knowing there was a wide gulf between him and the son of the Lord. He’d learned that through years of silent instruction.
But that didn’t mean he had to accept it.
“Uhule—your father came back from war in disgrace. He was supposed to stay quiet and out of sight, like a dead man. That’s why they gave him that name. And you? You were born without a surname, just Hunbish. Because the son of a disgrace doesn’t get to be a real person.”
{T/N :- Basically, Uhule means death (his father was supposed to die in battle and that’s why they gave him that name. Hunbish means someone who is not human. And if we combine both of them, it means inhuman death or someone who dies an inhuman death.}
“What did you just say?!”
Hunbish’s eyes snapped wide open.
“And let’s not stop there. No one even knows who your mother is. Has anyone even seen her? Maybe she wasn’t human either. Maybe that’s why your name’s just Hunbish!”
“Tamir!”
It had gone too far.
Jab couldn’t take it anymore and stepped in to stop Tamir’s vicious insults.
Tamir, who had been basking in the joy of his taunts, turned and scowled, irritated that Jab had ruined his moment.
And that was all the opening Hunbish needed.
He lunged forward and grabbed Tamir by the collar, yanking with all his strength.
Tamir hadn’t properly secured his feet in the stirrups, and the moment he turned his head, he was ripped off his horse and slammed into the ground.
“Urgh!”
“Take it back, Tamir!”
With a yell, Hunbish tackled him, and the two of them rolled across the grass.
The other young men watched in shock, but none of them stepped in.
This kind of fight wasn’t exactly new. And the outcome was already predictable.
At first, Tamir was clearly on the defensive, rattled from the fall.
Even with the thick fur coat softening the impact, Hunbish had mounted him and unleashed a flurry of punches, and Tamir could only throw up his arms to block.
But it didn’t last.
Hunbish’s stamina quickly began to fade.
Tamir, sensing it, kicked out, twisted, and reversed their positions.
After that, it was a one-sided beating.
Tamir's height and build were on par with Jab's.
He was also one of the most talented fighters among their generation in the territory.
This wasn’t like when they were ten anymore.
“Ha! Guess you haven’t been beaten enough, huh? When are you going to stop acting like we’re still ten? You and I — we’re not even in the same league anymore, Hunbish. Learn your place already!”
Only after thoroughly pummeling him did Tamir seem satisfied. He finally rose to his feet and spat out the blood pooling in his mouth with a roll of his tongue.
“Tch, well… dreaming’s free, I guess. So go ahead, keep dreaming while you still can. I’ve got better things to do than waste time on scum like you.”
With a flick of his hand, Tamir signaled his squad of about ten scout riders to move.
But just before riding off, he shot one last glare — this time aimed at Jab.
“Hey, Jab! What are you doing still standing there? You want to get banished with that loser too?”
“..............”
Tamir didn’t wait for a response. The scout squad rode off without Jab.
Caught awkwardly in the middle, Jab quickly mounted his horse and chased after them.
And just like that, Hunbish was left alone in the field, surrounded only by a few other boys who hadn’t yet undergone their coming-of-age ceremony.
The raucous scout patrol felt like a mirage now, already vanishing into the distance.
“Just wait. I’ll catch up to you, no matter what.”
Hunbish, broken and bruised, still hadn’t lost the fire in his voice.
His arms and face were swollen from blocking Tamir’s blows; the inside of his mouth was torn up and tasted like blood.
‘Dam'n it, my lips are busted. And Jab… he just stood there.’
Hunbish knew it wasn’t really Jab’s fault.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of bitterness at the growing distance between them since Jab joined the scout patrol.
They used to be inseparable — seeing each other nearly every day, running wild and laughing like fools.
‘Let it go. This isn’t Jab’s fault.’
There was no blame to place.
Jab hadn’t left because he hated Hunbish.
He simply had a path to follow, and Hunbish, for now, remained stuck in place.
He understood that. It was better that he chased after Jab with everything he had than hoped Jab would stop and wait. But knowing that didn’t stop the sting he felt each time he realized how far ahead Jab had gotten.
‘If only that accident had never happened…’
At ten, no one could touch Hunbish.
Not just among his peers — he could hold his own even against older boys who had already completed their coming-of-age ceremony.
Especially with a bow, his arrows never missed. At fifty meters, he never failed to hit the mark.
On horseback, with a wooden sword, in wrestling, he had never once met his match.
He had never been a natural-born talent.
His skill had come from long, secret training sessions with his father, masked under the guise of hunting trips.
That obsession with becoming a warrior — it was something he had inherited from the man.
But everything changed after the accident.
During the long months Hunbish spent bedridden, his father’s attitude grew cold. Icy.
Eventually, he stopped looking at Hunbish altogether.
And when that gaze disappeared, so too did the last flicker of hope in the old man’s eyes.
More than the pain or the rehab, the hardest part had been watching his father’s back as it turned away.
“What are you doing out here? Skipping your drills?”
A woman’s voice called out across the field, where Hunbish lay sprawled flat in the dirt.
It was Jaya. They were the same age and had even undergone the coming-of-age ceremony on the same day.
Of course, she had passed without issue.
Hunbish turned his head and saw her approaching, arms full of raw, unprocessed hides.
She had likely come from the forest, picking up the pelts prepared by the hunters — and now, she had stumbled upon him.
“Geez, your face is a mess. You get into another fight?”
She sounded surprised, but not too much. It was probably just another run-in with Tamir.
The odds were good — Hunbish’s past made it an easy guess.
“Ugh. Why fight when you know you can’t win? You can’t even ride properly yet.”
“I just shot a bow from horseback, you know?”
Hunbish grumbled, pointing toward the straw effigy with the arrow still buried in its chest.
Jaya followed his finger, looked, and then gave him a once-over, expression unreadable.
“Impressive growth, sure… but you still look like hell.”
He hadn’t moved since the scuffle, just lying there on the ground, no medical attention, nothing.
His face was caked with dirt and grass, his nose still bleeding.
Not exactly the image of a triumphant warrior.
Hunbish, realizing how pathetic he must look, finally tried to get up.
“Ugh…”
As he straightened his back, pain shot through his spine, and his posture buckled.
With only his left leg to bear his weight, balance came slowly and with effort.
“Uh…?”
He stumbled a few more steps before collapsing again with a thud.
"Hey, you need to go to the hospital."
“A clinic? Ugh, I don’t wanna hear another lecture…”
"What choice do you have? It's better than becoming more of a cripple here. Can you ride your horse?"
“Not like this. I can’t even get in the saddle.”
Jaya glanced around, then turned her head, scanning the area.
“Alak, over here!”
She called for Alak, Hunbish’s horse, with practiced ease.
When the steed trotted over, she laid out the raw hides across the saddle to make a cushion.
With one hand she grabbed the reins, and with the other, offered Hunbish her shoulder.
“Now can you move?”
He thought it was a little undignified, to lean on a woman like this, but Jaya’s expression brooked no argument.
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