༺ 𓆩 Chapter 8 𓆪 ༻
「Translator — Creator」
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠂ ⚘᠃
When the sun hung upon the western ridgeline, Melduk finally found salvation.
Amidst the awkward silence that blanketed the plateau and the intermittent bleating of sheep, his wandering gaze — having nowhere else to turn — caught sight of two young men approaching on Melduk's horse.
“It’s Hunbish!”
At Melduk’s shout, Jab raised his head and confirmed it was indeed them.
Hunbish and Dawaa, both weary and drooping with exhaustion, sat side by side atop Melduk's horse as they drew near.
Melduk and Tauga rushed out to meet them.
The plateau soon erupted with the clamorous sounds of four young men greeting one another.
Hunbish, ever at ease among others, had changed little since before his coming-of-age. He still blended in effortlessly, free from prejudice or pride, with a quiet warmth that made people feel at ease.
He had once been — perhaps still was — one of the few friends with whom one could speak openly, without hiding anything.
No. He had been.
“Jab.”
While Jab was still piecing together his thoughts, Hunbish spotted him, dismounted, and came closer.
Perhaps due to fatigue, his dismount was sluggish.
Jab watched his approach carefully.
If it weren’t for that limping leg… perhaps there could have been another way to help him.
If that had been the case, perhaps Jab could have cheered him on with genuine sincerity.
“I figured you wouldn’t just sit still.”
“Are you mad?”
“…No.”
Jab had always been difficult to read, his expressions rarely shifting — but now, even more so. Not even a flicker betrayed what he was thinking.
He turned his eyes to Dawaa, still seated on the horse.
“Looks like your injury’s healing alright?”
“Well… it’s manageable.”
“Dawaa, starting tomorrow you’ll be placed in my scouting unit. We’re expanding our search radius, so be sure to get ready.”
“Oh, right. Got it.”
It was an awkward reunion.
In their childhood, they’d often been together — Hunbish at the center of it all. But when Hunbish became bound to the hospital, the bond between Jab and Dawaa faded.
Not long after, Jab was assigned to the scouting corps, while Dawaa took up shepherding.
They hadn’t met since, nor had they sought each other out.
As they each carried out their duties, the memories of childhood grew faint.
“Being in the scouts isn’t anything too hard. I know your skills well. The others will welcome you, and you’ll adapt quickly.”
“I understand."
“I’m counting on you, Dawaa.”
Jab extended his right hand first.
Dawaa hesitated briefly, then grasped it for a handshake, awkward but genuine.
“Hehe, I’m counting on you too, Brother Jab.”
Dawaa looked at him with a relaxed smile.
With age, Jab had only grown more solid and dependable.
Moreover, he was also learning, little by little, how to lead others.
Watching Jab grow into himself, Hunbish couldn’t help but feel pleased.
“Trying to ditch me, are you? Weren’t you the one who said you had something to tell me?”
As Hunbish pressed him, Jab finally looked back at him.
“Mm…”
It was rare to see Jab hesitate; his awkwardness was out of character.
“This isn’t something I want to talk about here…”
He walked over to the low shrubs where his horse was tethered and loosened the reins.
“Get on. I’ll take you home.”
“What?”
“It’s a bit out of the way, but if we go in through the South Gate together, it’ll be fine.”
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“I’ll explain on the way.”
Jab’s serious demeanor puzzled Hunbish.
But he could tell this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. So he decided to go along with it.
Part of him worried Jab might spend the whole ride nagging him, but since his actions had been caught today, it was something he would have to endure.
“Sigh. Alright, fine. It’s been a while — let’s sit down and actually talk.”
Once Hunbish climbed onto the back of the horse, Jab set off without delay.
“Melduk, thanks for the ride. Dawaa, you worked hard all day. Tauga, thank you too. I’ll see you guys later!”
“Take care, brother!”
“Hey! Don’t let Jab’s scolding get to you!”
“Hang in there, Hunbish!”
With those farewells from the three shepherds, the two childhood friends rode off, leaving the highland pastures behind.
The sun had sunk behind the western ridge, and dusk began to fall across the land.
For a while, they rode in silence.
Even the simple act of sitting together on the swaying horse, following the path, was enough to stir memories of their youth.
But they couldn’t postpone the inevitable forever.
Jab keeping today’s events to himself was something Hunbish was grateful for, but he still needed to probe a little deeper.
It was always Hunbish who broke their silences.
If he didn’t, Jab’s heavy lips would never part on their own.
It had always been Hunbish’s role — to pry open that sealed mouth and draw out Jab’s carefully weighed thoughts.
Just as Hunbish was about to speak, half-lost in nostalgia—
“Hun, you hate Tamir, don’t you?”
Jab’s voice came first, for once.
"Isn't that obvious? Even setting aside what happened when we were kids, you've seen how he's treated me ever since, haven't you?"
“Yeah. I agree. Tamir’s been too harsh with you.”
Hunbish hadn’t expected Jab to bring up Tamir at all.
And yet, in hindsight, perhaps it wasn’t so strange.
At some point, Jab had spent more time with Tamir than he ever had with Hunbish.
"Tamir has caused quite a few problems trying to gain recognition from his father. He probably acts that way because he doesn't want to admit it."
“…Yeah. Probably. But why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?”
A brief silence passed between them.
“…You do know we’re effectively in a state of war right now, don’t you?”
“More or less.”
The unrest in the territory wasn’t lost on Hunbish either.
“The nomadic unit that went to Lake Hopsgul… it’s likely been wiped out.”
“Are you serious?”
“It hasn’t been confirmed yet, but most people are treating it as fact.”
“................”
‘The forest men are the final calamity loosed upon the world by the Goddess to bring about mankind’s end.’
It was a line Hunbish had come across the night before while combing through books about the forest men; they were described as beings with an innate command structure, accelerated learning, and an undisguised hostility toward mankind.
“The Lord believes it was the forest men’s doing. He’s convinced our village is next.”
“................”
“So to identify the enemy’s movements, the search operations are expanding — and Tamir’s been appointed as head of the scouting party.”
“Wait… what? Tamir’s the commander?”
“Yeah. We’re already at that age now.”
Hunbish had only just begun to find his footing again, yet Tamir was already leading a unit. And Jab, once by his side, had become a Decurion.
Each step Hunbish took forward felt like chasing a mirage that only slipped further away.
“Hunbish. I’ve been thinking…”
“About what?”
“Maybe you should stop going after martens pelts.”
Hunbish stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Are you even hearing yourself right now?”
“I know — I know exactly what I’m saying! But the outside world’s too dangerous now. And no matter how I look at it, I can’t see a way for you and Tamir to coexist in this village. Even if this exile is waived, Tamir will try to drive you out somehow."
"Are you saying that's a reason I should be exiled?"
“Think about it. What’s the point of going to such lengths to stay here? What do you even want to do by staying?”
“You can’t be serious…”
The surge of fury rising to the top of his head left Hunbish speechless.
But what hurt more than Jab’s words themselves was the fact that they had come from the mouth of the friend who once knew him best.
“Hold on. Stop. This isn’t something we should talk about on horseback.”
Just before reaching the southern entrance of the village, the two stopped their horses and decided to take a break.
Hunbish dismounted and sat on a nearby rock, trying to cool his anger and make sense of Jab’s words.
"So what you're saying is that it's wrong of me to want to stay in the village?"
"I'm not trying to determine right from wrong. I'm saying we should think about what's best for each other."
Jab, too, got off his horse and found a rock to sit on.
“I’ve looked into what’s happened to Olus villagers who were exiled or left voluntarily. Turns out being from Olus isn’t such a bad thing — people actually respect it. The reputation of Olus warriors carries a lot of weight.”
“So what, since I’m going to be banished anyway, I should just quietly leave and stop being a burden — is that it?!”
“Calm down, that's not what I'm saying."
"What do you mean it's not! How is what you're saying any different?"
No matter how hard Hunbish tried to understand, he couldn’t.
The more he thought about it, the more he began to doubt whether the young man before him was truly the Jab he once knew.
“…Tamir may have struggled after his coming-of-age, but lately, he’s really been buckling down, learning what it takes to be a successor. People have even started to expect things from him.”
Hunbish felt something hot rising in his throat again.
Jab, as if trying to force the words out before Hunbish could interrupt, spoke with uncharacteristic intensity.
“But the moment he sees you, he slips right back into that spiral — into the storm of insecurity and inferiority that once consumed him. Do you get it? You two bring out the worst in each other.”
“.................”
“That’s why I want you two apart. It’s the best solution I could come up with.”
In other words, Hunbish had become the catalyst that triggered Tamir’s buried inferiority.
It all went back to that festival — the Naadam, when they were just nine.
Wrestling. Horseback riding. Archery.
Hunbish had swept all three, defeating Tamir by a wide margin and taking the championship.
To Tamir, who had been raised to become the best in every domain of the territory, that loss had been etched deep in his soul.
It was then that the sting of bitter defeat took root — along with the guilt of disappointing his father and a profound sense of inadequacy that shattered his self-confidence.
From that moment on, he had spiraled out of control, desperate to defend a wounded pride.
Jab had been there through all of it, watching as Tamir, piece by piece, pulled himself together again.
He couldn’t bear to see Tamir fall back into that darkness.
“…So, what you’re really saying is Tamir matters more to you than I do.”
“Hun, I support you. I do. But I want to support Tamir too.”
“That’s enough. I get it.”
Hunbish stood up abruptly.
"If you want to stop it, then stop it. But I'll never stop this myself. Once you start stirring salt, you have to keep going until it dissolves!"
“Hun — wait!”
“We’re close enough to my house. I’ll walk. I’ve no mind to ride your damn horse.”
“............!”
Jab shot to his feet to follow him, but Hunbish was already striding away too fast, and he couldn't bring himself to stop him.
Because he knew exactly what kind of betrayal Hunbish must be feeling.
This moment, this confrontation, would leave deep scars on both of them.
He had braced himself for this, but even so, Jab couldn’t stop the guilt gnawing at him.
𓇗
Hunbish gave a half-hearted excuse to the guards at the South Gate and finally made it home.
‘That bastard. I thought he was my friend, but he’s just become Tamir’s lapdog!’
It was a dog of a day.
A day when he lost a friend he had believed in for years.
There was no masking the weight dragging down his mood.
Right now, if anything crossed his path, he felt like punching it into the ground.
Like, say… that golden eagle charging at him out of nowhere.
“Piyoooo!”
“Huh?”
Thud—!!!
Instinctively, Hunbish threw himself backward, narrowly avoiding the eagle’s talons.
“Gah!”
If a golden eagle’s claws sank into a person’s skull, it was said that the eyes would be plucked out along with them.
Hunbish desperately shielded his head.
“Damn it, you little beast!”
Each time the massive golden eagle — with a wingspan over two meters — swooped down at him, Hunbish rolled across the ground. Eventually, its talons caught both of his arms.
With his arms pinned, the eagle lunged again, beak first, aiming for his eyes.
“Piyok! Piyok!”
“Stop it! I said stop!”
As Hunbish wrestled in front of his house with the feral eagle, the front door finally opened.
His father stepped out, tossed a hunk of meat toward the bird, and it immediately grabbed the chunk in its beak and flew back to its nest.
“You’re home.”
It was the day his father returned from hunting.
He tossed another piece of meat to the second golden eagle and walked calmly back inside.
“.................”
His father’s hunting birds — two golden eagles.
Mundru and Tenger.
Unlike the dignified Mundru, the younger Tenger had a bad habit of attacking Hunbish when hungry, making his life miserable from time to time.
“Why the hell are you always after me when Father feeds you!”
No matter how much Hunbish yelled in frustration, the two golden eagles were far too absorbed in tearing apart the meat thrown by Uhulre.
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