Chapter 2: The Child from the Mounted Tribe

On vast, sprawling lands, countless groups formed tribes, each carving out their place. As tribes grew in number, they named themselves based on their surroundings, their skills, or unique traits.

The Mounted Tribe, renowned for their horsemanship.
The Earthen Tribe, rooted firmly in the land.
The Azure Sky Tribe, dwelling near the blue rivers.
The Riazai Tribe, named after the abundance of Riazai flowers.
The Heavenly Tribe, worshipers of the skies.
The Egg-bearing Tribe, known for their care of hatchlings.

Tribes traded freely and moved between alliances unless they were outright enemies. Still, distrust lingered. Powerful tribes raided the weaker ones, stealing resources and labor, while alliances forged by necessity strengthened bonds.

There were no overarching rules or universal laws. Tribes only adhered to their internal codes, leading to an era known later as the Tribal States Period. A chaotic yet brutally simple time, where the strong thrived and the weak perished.

Among the three major warrior tribes, the Mounted Tribe stood out as particularly ruthless and feared. Their warriors were known across the vast continent, their brutality infamous. For those who weren’t warriors, life as a “commoner” meant laboring endlessly on non-combat tasks.

* * *

“Is this all you’ve done?”

“…Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize—just work faster! Damn it, we need all this finished by tonight! What are you going to do about it?”

The man threw a soaked hide at Yujin in frustration. The wet weight hit him with a dull thud, making him stagger.

“…”

“Why did I get stuck working with someone as useless as you? What have you even learned all this time? Worthless!”

“…Sorry.”

“Don’t think about eating dinner until the quota’s finished!”

“…”

The man stormed off, leaving Yujin standing silently. His emotionless face betrayed none of the anger or shame that might have been expected. He simply watched the man’s retreating figure before lowering his gaze.

Yujin’s task was to scrape and smooth animal hides—a tedious and labor-intensive job. Completing it all by nightfall seemed impossible, especially given his slow progress, which only fueled the man’s anger. Normally, such reprimands were accompanied by kicks, but the bruises on Yujin’s face seemed to have spared him this time.

Despite working for over a year, Yujin’s hands still fumbled with the unfamiliar tools and techniques.

‘When will this ever end?’

Yujin sighed briefly but knew better than to waste time. If he didn’t finish, he wouldn’t get food the next day. He resumed his work with trembling hands. It was just another harsh, monotonous day—nothing unusual.

“Well, this looks good enough,” the man said, inspecting the hides Yujin had worked on all night.

“I had to beg my aunt to extend the deadline for you. You should be grateful.”

“Okay,” Yujin replied quietly.

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll help with the washing, too.”

“Okay.”

As the man walked off with the hides, Yujin stared after him blankly before turning toward the stream. He moved slowly, dragging his exhausted body to the water’s edge. After making sure no one was around, he sat down and examined his blistered, swollen fingers.

The pain had become so intense that bending his fingers sent sharp jolts through his hands. Compared to this, the bruises on his chest and face—received for being “too slow”—felt almost trivial.

“And now I have to do laundry tomorrow…” Yujin muttered, letting out a tired sigh.

It had been over a year since Yujin was dragged to the Mounted Tribe’s village to work as a laborer. Unlike Yujin, these people were harsh, brutal, and emotionally detached. Most of the tribe’s leaders were warriors, and their violent tendencies seemed almost second nature. The commoners who lived among them weren’t much better, either out of shared temperament or sheer survival instincts.

Yujin’s role in the village wasn’t clearly defined. He did whatever needed doing, whether it was typically men’s work or women’s tasks. Anything and everything was thrust upon him.

“Ugh… it hurts,” Yujin murmured dryly, his voice devoid of emotion. He stared at his raw, swollen hands. The skin was so damaged it felt like it was constantly burning.

He often thought about dying. When life was unbearably harsh, blaming fate felt like the only recourse. Perhaps his suffering was the fault of the comet that had appeared around the time he was born. Maybe if he’d been born under a different star, his life would’ve been easier. At the very least, he could’ve died alongside his family and grandmother that day.

‘Why was I the only one left alive?’

No matter how much he pondered, he found no answers. And so, he blamed fate.

Not a day passed where Yujin didn’t long for his grandmother or the family and villagers he had lost. Every day felt grimy and worthless—surviving felt like a mistake. Months ago, he had tried to end it all on the path to Riazai Hamlet, only to be saved by Bart.

Why had Bart saved him?

Since returning to the commoners’ quarters after the Riazai incident, nothing had changed. Yujin’s work remained the same, and each day was as exhausting as the last. Yet, whenever the pain became unbearable, Bart crossed his mind.

Was it because Bart had saved him? Or was it the memory of those piercing, all-seeing eyes? Whatever the reason, thinking about Bart seemed to dull the edges of Yujin’s suffering—though it never stopped the pain completely.

 

The thought of sleeping in the shared barracks seemed impossible. The crowded, noisy space offered no real rest unless one collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Yujin found solace in sitting alone outside, away from the bustle.

His thoughts spiraled, sinking into the same bleak questions as always.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence.

Step. Step.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind made Yujin instinctively curl up and press himself flat against the ground. It was a habit he had picked up after being taken to the Mounted Tribe’s settlement. It was easier to avoid drawing attention or provoking anyone’s temper by assuming a position of submission. Most people simply passed him by if they had no business with him.

Yujin waited for the footsteps to recede, but instead, they grew closer and eventually stopped directly in front of him.

‘What now?’

Under the oppressive silence, Yujin stayed motionless for a long moment before cautiously lifting his head to see who it was. His eyes met a familiar, emotionless face.

“…Bart?”

“…”

It had been a while since Yujin last saw Bart. After returning from Riazai Hamlet, their paths hadn’t crossed—not surprising given that they lived in separate sections of the settlement. Occasionally, Yujin had wandered near the warriors’ quarters, hoping for a glimpse, but those attempts often ended with a beating from passing warriors. He had quickly abandoned the idea.

‘Why is he here? Does he want to hit me? Or does he have something for me to do?’

As Yujin speculated on Bart’s presence, his gaze fell on a wound on Bart’s shin. It looked like a shallow cut, likely from a blade. Though it didn’t seem severe, it was the kind of injury that could fester if left untreated.

Yujin hesitated before speaking. “Um, does that hurt? It looks painful.”

“…”

“You should see a healer. Or… wait here. I can help.”

“…”

Still lying prone, Yujin turned his head slightly to look up at Bart. The warrior’s impassive black eyes were fixed on him, unreadable as ever. When Yujin slowly pushed himself up, Bart didn’t react.

“I’ll be right back.”

“…”

Taking Bart’s silence as agreement, Yujin hurried toward the hills along the stream, searching among the rocks for a particular herb he had seen before.

‘I’m sure it was around here… Did someone else pick it already?’

Yujin scoured the crevices, trying to retrace his memory. He had stumbled upon a medicinal herb a few days ago that could reduce inflammation and help wounds heal. It wasn’t as potent as what the tribe’s healers used, but it would suffice.

‘Where is it?’

He ventured higher up the slope, combing through every crack and cranny. Along the way, he spotted a small clump of poisonous mushrooms growing in the shadows of a tree root.

‘These again?’

The mushrooms were deceptive in appearance, easily mistaken for edible ones. Left untouched, they could grow into potent killers within months. Yujin crouched down, crushed the tiny cluster beneath his heel, and covered the remnants with dry leaves to prevent anyone from accidentally collecting them.

Just as he was about to give up, a pale green leaf caught his eye.

“Found it!”

Carefully plucking the herb, Yujin sprinted back to the stream. Relief washed over him when he saw Bart still standing exactly where he had left him, watching silently.

“Sorry it took so long. I had to find the herb,” Yujin said, slightly out of breath.

“…”

“Just a moment.”

Yujin rinsed the herb in the stream, crushed it against a smooth rock, and gently applied the paste to Bart’s shin.

“This should stop the wound from festering. It’s not as effective as what the healers use, but it’s still good.”

“…”

“Was it a sword that cut you? The wound doesn’t look too bad, but you should still be careful. You never know…”

Yujin hesitated, his fingers trembling slightly as he applied the herb. Despite Bart’s silence, Yujin continued, his voice softer.

“So, um… if you’re not planning to see the healer, maybe come back here around the same time tomorrow? I can reapply this for you.”

“…”

“Or… you don’t have to, if the healer takes care of it.”

Throughout Yujin’s rambling, Bart said nothing. He simply stared at Yujin, his dark eyes unreadable. After a moment, Bart glanced down at the haphazardly applied poultice, then turned and walked away without a word.

He didn’t thank Yujin, acknowledge his effort, or even confirm whether he’d return. It was just like the night on the cliff—Bart only stared at Yujin with that unsettling intensity before leaving.

“At least say something,” Yujin muttered to the now-distant figure.

His voice was laced with frustration, but he couldn’t suppress the memory of Bart’s deep, resonant tone. Yujin wasn’t even sure if the voice in his memory matched the reality anymore. All he knew was that it had left a strong impression.

 

The Mounted Tribe’s settlement was home to many people taken from other tribes during raids. Like Yujin, most were captives forced to assimilate. Some tried to escape, while others resigned themselves to life in this harsh new world.

There was no single right choice—it all depended on the individual’s circumstances.

To Yujin’s understanding, the Mounted Tribe had little regard for social hierarchy outside of their warriors and their families. The warriors held all the power, making Bart’s indifference toward a commoner like Yujin entirely expected.

Yujin dipped his hands into the cold stream to wash off the green residue from the herb. A pang of regret hit him as he watched the stains dissolve.

‘Was it foolish to help him? Maybe it meant nothing to him.’

Even so, Yujin clung to a small hope: that Bart might return tomorrow.

* * *

As the twilight deepened and the shadows stretched across the valley, Yujin sat beside the stream, staring at the herbs in his hands. He had spent the entire day working tirelessly and had climbed into the mountains to gather herbs, hoping to see Bart again. Yet, as the sun dipped lower, Bart still hadn’t shown up. Yujin sighed and fiddled with the herbs, debating whether to wait longer or leave.

Just as he decided to stand, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. The slow, deliberate cadence of the approaching steps made Yujin’s head snap up. Bart’s imposing figure emerged from the gloom, and Yujin felt an unexpected rush of relief and excitement.

‘He came.’

Yujin wanted to call out to him, but his voice caught in his throat. Instead, he awkwardly raised his hand in a half-wave.

“Over here,” he called, his voice soft and hesitant.

“…”

“I thought you weren’t coming. I was just about to leave.”

“…”

“Um… let me take care of your wound.”

Bart said nothing as he approached and sat beside Yujin. His silence didn’t bother Yujin as much this time—it was enough that Bart had returned. Suppressing a grin that threatened to bloom across his face, Yujin pulled out a clean cloth he had prepared earlier. Carefully, he mashed the herbs and applied the paste to Bart’s wound, wrapping it neatly with the cloth.

“I should’ve wrapped it properly yesterday, but I was too distracted,” Yujin muttered, tying the bandage snugly.

“…”

“By the way, my name is Yujin.”

“…”

“Do you… remember me? I went to Riazai Hamlet with you.”

Yujin hesitated, unable to bring himself to ask the real question: ‘Do you remember saving me?’

He didn’t want to hear Bart deny it—it would sting too much. Even if Bart couldn’t recall the details, Yujin hoped he might at least recognize his face.

But Bart’s indifferent expression betrayed no recognition. He simply stared ahead at the stream as if lost in thought.

‘Well, it’s not surprising,’ Yujin thought, forcing a weak smile.

‘I’m just one of many faceless commoners.’

Yujin fidgeted with a pebble, flicking it absentmindedly while stealing glances at Bart’s profile. They appeared to be around the same age, but Bart was strikingly different—his sturdy frame, broad shoulders, and even his sun-kissed skin contrasted sharply with Yujin’s slender build and pale complexion.

“There must be a lot of guys my age in the warrior quarters, right? I heard from someone that there are many young warriors there. Is that true?”

The Mounted Tribe’s settlement was divided into two sections: the warrior quarters and the commoner area. In Yujin’s section, most residents were women, children, or captives from other tribes, like himself.

According to Chichi, a gossip from the commoner area, there were plenty of young men in the warrior quarters. It made sense—this was a large settlement, and the warriors were all men.

Yujin continued to chatter, filling the silence in hopes of keeping Bart from leaving. He secretly yearned to hear Bart’s voice again, but the persistent quiet left him disheartened. Biting his lip, Yujin busied himself by adjusting the bandage he had tied, pretending to check its fit.

A faint rustling sound drew his attention.

At first, Yujin thought he had imagined it, but then he spotted a small jackal pup peeking out from behind a rock, whimpering softly. Rising to his feet, Yujin took a cautious step toward the pup, only to feel a firm grip on his wrist.

“Leave it,” Bart said, his voice deep and firm.

The unexpected warmth of Bart’s large hand startled Yujin. His voice was even lower and drier than Yujin remembered, resonating in a way that made Yujin pause.

“Why?” Yujin asked, glancing back at him.

“The mother might be nearby,” Bart replied.

Realizing Bart had a point, Yujin reluctantly sat back down. Approaching a wild animal, especially a pup, could provoke its mother into attacking. Still, the sight of the limping pup tugged at Yujin’s heart.

Minutes passed, and the pup continued to whine pitifully. Unable to hold back any longer, Yujin broke the silence.

“Don’t you think its mother might be hurt? Why isn’t she coming?”

“She could be dead. Or maybe the pup was abandoned,” Bart said matter-of-factly.

“Abandoned? Why?”

“The weak and injured are usually left behind.”

Bart’s blunt response left Yujin momentarily speechless. His gaze dropped to the ground, his expression shadowed by a flicker of sorrow.

After a moment’s hesitation, Yujin rose again and strode toward the rock. Before Bart could stop him, he gently scooped up the trembling pup, which flailed and cried out but soon settled in his arms. Yujin examined the animal carefully, applying leftover herbs to its injured leg and checking for other wounds.

Though he knew he couldn’t bring the pup back to the settlement, he couldn’t ignore it either. Healing its injuries was the least he could do.

Bart’s intense gaze weighed on Yujin, making him fidget under the scrutiny. He spoke quickly, as if to justify his actions.