Chapter 5: Pair

“Grandma, look at this. This is the poisonous mushroom you mentioned before, right?”

“That’s right. My Yujin has quite the eye for finding things. Be careful, though; this mushroom is highly toxic. See here? There are tiny spots on the stem,” she said, pointing with her finger.

At the tip of her finger were faint black spots, barely visible. It was a deadly poisonous mushroom, resembling an edible one so closely that most people often confused the two.

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Listening to his grandmother’s explanation, Yujin carefully observed the mushroom and then placed it gingerly into the leather pouch strapped to his waist. After securing it, he followed behind his grandmother, who had already begun walking ahead.

In spring, the area around the village would be blanketed with vibrant red flowers, leading neighboring villages to call them the “Red Village.” The elderly woman with a head full of white hair was the healer of the Red Village. Her successor, Yujin, had begun learning about herbs as soon as he could speak and had followed her into the mountains to gather them as soon as he could walk.

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The smell of grass, the breeze, and the warmth of the sun were constant companions. Yujin loved the daily walks through the mountains with his grandmother, gathering medicinal and poisonous plants alike. The chirping of birds, the buzzing of insects, and the rustling of leaves were sounds that filled him with joy. It was a life brimming with warmth, freedom, and abundance.

“The herbs are harder to find than I thought,” the healer remarked.

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“Yes, it looks like we’re short. What should we do?” Yujin asked, concerned.

“…”

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Instead of answering, she stared silently into the distance, her face shadowed with worry. After a moment, she turned to Yujin with a kind smile.

“Dear, shall we start heading down now?”

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As the sun began to touch the edge of the mountain, the healer prepared to descend. They had set out before dawn, hoping to gather at least a handful of herbs, but they hadn’t even managed that much. Disheartened, they made their way back to the village.

“Healer, how did it go?” someone asked as they returned.

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The leader’s wife, who had been pacing near the village entrance, rushed toward the healer and anxiously asked, “We’ll be able to meet the quota, right? Won’t we?”

The healer simply shook her head, and the leader’s wife’s face crumpled as if she might burst into tears at any moment.

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“You’ll meet it, won’t you? Please, say yes.”

“I’m afraid it’s unlikely,” the healer replied.

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Small villages like theirs, located on the outskirts, were required to offer tributes to the larger neighboring villages. For the Red Village, this meant herbs.

Last year, the Red Village failed to meet its quota. The reason was the unusually long and heavy rainfall. The soil in the mountains turned to mud and slid down the slopes, burying the herbs beneath it.

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This year, they were required to make up for the previous year’s shortfall on top of the usual quota. The healer and Yujin hadn’t taken a single day off from climbing the mountains. Even those with the slightest knowledge of herbs had scoured the area tirelessly. Together, they had barely managed to meet the required amount when an unfortunate incident occurred—the leader’s son suffered a severe injury.

Despite the objections of the villagers, the leader used half of the collected herbs for his son’s treatment. As a result, the Red Village was once again unable to meet the annual quota, leaving its people in a state of despair.

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Walking beside his grandmother toward their hut, Yujin paused when he heard voices coming from the leader’s dwelling.

“When you think about it, it’s not such a bad arrangement. So why do they insist it’s impossible?”

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“That’s not the issue right now, is it? Alma has already been decided to go to the Azure Sky Tribe. What excuse could we possibly give to refuse now?”

“How about we first send Alma to the Mounted Tribe and tell the Azure Sky Tribe we’ll send another child instead?”

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“If that were possible, the leader would have done it already. The problem is that both tribes are demanding Alma right now!”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t used the herbs back then.”

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“Are you saying we should have let the next leader die instead?”

“Isn’t the second son of the leader’s second wife still an option, even though he’s young?”

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“Do you even hear yourself?”

“Then what are we supposed to do? This isn’t just any tribe we’re talking about—it’s the Mounted Tribe! Do you not understand who we’re dealing with? If we handle this poorly, we’re all doomed!”

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“If we form an alliance with the Azure Sky Tribe, even the Mounted Tribe won’t be able to do anything against us.”

“And how are we supposed to trust something that hasn’t even been confirmed?! Who knows if their promise to treat us as an allied tribe once Alma is sent is just empty words?!”

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It was like this every day. The people of the tribe raised their voices and argued endlessly, trapped in a situation where no decision seemed right.

“Yujin, come here now.”

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“Yes, Grandmother.”

Worried that the heated debate might drag Yujin into trouble, the herbalist scolded him for eavesdropping. She cherished Yujin dearly, admiring his sharp mind and ability to discern situations wisely. Watching him absorb knowledge like a cloth soaking up water was one of her greatest joys.

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Inside the hut, the herbalist began carefully arranging the herbs she had gathered all day onto wooden planks. As she worked, the shaman entered the hut.

“The leader is calling for you,” the shaman said.

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Straightening her back, the herbalist nodded and stepped out of the hut. As the shaman turned to follow her, he paused to stare intently at Yujin. His gaze lingered for a moment before he finally looked away and left the hut as well.

“Isn’t it time to stop this nonsense already?”

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Yujin let out a small sigh as he followed the lingering gaze of the shaman. Then, as if shaking off the unease, he continued the task his grandmother had left unfinished.

The shaman often stared at Yujin intently, making him uncomfortable. Though it unnerved him, Yujin was too afraid to confront the shaman and instead pretended not to notice. At first, he couldn’t understand the reason behind such behavior. But one day, after overhearing a conversation between his parents, he finally realized why.

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Long ago, a comet with a fiery red tail appeared in the skies over the tribe’s lands. Known as a highly auspicious sign, the comet prompted the shaman to search for pregnant women within the tribe. That search led him to Yujin’s mother and the leader’s wife, both of whom were nearing childbirth.

The shaman prophesied that a girl born under the comet’s energy was destined to stand beside a great leader. He claimed her presence would bring prosperity to the tribe and help the leader expand their territory. As time passed, both Alma and Yujin were born.

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Naturally, the tribe assumed Alma was the child blessed by the comet’s energy. However, the superstitious Red Tribe, fearing unforeseen consequences, debated whether Yujin should be killed. Their belief was that a boy born under a girl’s destined fate was an ill omen. Leading this argument was none other than the shaman.

Yujin’s parents pleaded for days in front of the shaman and the leader. Later, even the herbalist joined their efforts to save him. Eventually, the leader relented and decided to spare Yujin’s life.

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While the commotion subsided over time, the shaman’s thoughts remained unchanged.

He firmly believed that Yujin, not Alma, was the one born with the comet’s energy.

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* * *

“Child, are you ready?”

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“Yes, Grandmother. Let’s go,” Yujin replied, fastening two empty pouches to his waist as he stepped out of the hut. As always, he was heading to the mountains at dawn with his grandmother to gather herbs. Though they would never be able to meet the full quota demanded by the Mounted Tribe, the leader’s orders were clear—they had to gather as much as possible.

“Grandmother, does that mean Alma will go to the Azure Sky Tribe as originally decided?”

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“Most likely, yes.”

“She leaves tomorrow, right?”

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“So I’ve heard.”

If Yujin’s memory was correct, it had been around this time last year when the Azure Sky Tribe unexpectedly visited the Red Tribe, which had been under the Mounted Tribe’s protection, and asked for Alma. The leader had seemed both pleased and uneasy. Yujin had overheard that Alma’s marriage to the Azure Sky Tribe leader’s son would solidify an alliance between their tribes. Even Yujin understood that an alliance was better than merely being under protection.

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“He must be… a good warrior, right?”

“Probably. He is the second son of their leader, so it’s likely. Why? Has someone been saying something to you?”

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“No, not at all.”

Yujin just wished everything would resolve smoothly, that all the noise and chaos would fade away, and their tribe could return to its former peace.

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As they walked, carefully searching every nook of the mountain, Yujin’s eyes caught sight of a plant poking out from between some rocks. He stopped in his tracks and crouched down, studying it closely. After a while, he raised his head and called out loudly.

“Grandmother! Over here!”

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Hearing his call, she hurried over. Carefully, she dug around the area Yujin had pointed out and unearthed the herb’s roots.

“We’ll take it back to the tribe and examine it further. You never know—it might be something important.”

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There was a rare herb said to enhance vitality in men with strong yang energy and improve skin in women with strong yin energy. Such a precious herb was usually offered to the leader or sent to larger tribes. However, the herbalist had a habit of closely examining any herb before offering it to the leader.

Her reasoning was simple: all valuable herbs, curiously, had a counterpart resembling them in appearance—a poisonous plant. She often reminded Yujin of the importance of distinguishing between herbs and their toxic doppelgängers.

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As dusk settled and Yujin returned to the tribe, he carefully laid out the herbs he had gathered onto the table.

“It really looks like a medicinal herb…”

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Having learned about poisonous plants alongside herbs, Yujin considered himself skilled at telling them apart. Although his grandmother said she would confirm it in the morning, to Yujin’s eyes, it was undeniably a herb.

“‘Good for vitality in men,’ huh… Does that mean it makes you more manly?”

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Yujin felt self-conscious about his smaller and weaker build compared to others his age. His delicate features, too, drew criticism, with some associating his appearance with the ill-fated comet.

While he couldn’t change his face, he wished at least his body could grow as strong as others’. He longed to be bigger, taller, and more robust, like the other men of the tribe. More than anything, he wanted to become strong enough to one day tell the shaman that his prophecy was wrong.

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He hesitated as he fingered the root in his hand. Offering the herb to the leader was the right thing to do, especially given how short they were on their quota. But perhaps… just a little wouldn’t hurt? No one would notice, after all…

In the end, Yujin couldn’t resist the temptation. That night, when no one was watching, he carefully broke off a small piece of the herb’s root and ate it.

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* * *

“Child, don’t worry too much. Rest for a few days, and you’ll feel better.”

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“I’m sorry, Grandmother. I just…”

“I know, I know everything. So don’t worry and just rest.”

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Yujin’s body burned as if aflame, and every joint ached unbearably. It was pure luck that he had only dared to eat the very tip of the root. The herb’s toxicity was so potent that even that minuscule amount dulled all his senses.

The fever burned hot, muffling his hearing and blurring his vision. His consciousness flickered in and out, and when he opened his eyes again, the light inside the hut would have shifted. He spent most of the day lying at the innermost part of the hut, unaware of how much time had passed. Occasionally, his mother or grandmother would rouse him to make him drink water before he drifted back into a feverish sleep.

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A dull, droning sound buzzed in Yujin’s ears. It sounded like the murmur of voices, but his dulled hearing made it hard to discern. The noise persisted, unsettling and constant. Struggling against his fragmented awareness, Yujin focused on the sounds.

A sharp cry cut through the air from outside, irregular and piercing.

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“Aaaahhh!”

The scream ripped through the air like a blade, then abruptly stopped. A cold dread settled in Yujin’s chest. Something terrible was happening outside. He tried to open his eyes and shift his body, but an excruciating pain swept over his scalp, as if his skin was being torn away. He let out an involuntary sob.

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“What’s this little rat?”

“Ugh… it hurts. Let go… Let go!”

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Yujin’s hair was yanked, and he was dragged out of the hut, helpless against the force. He was thrown harshly onto the dirt ground. Weak and dazed, Yujin looked around him. Scattered bodies, blood soaking the brown soil, and amidst it all, his grandmother.

“No… Grandmother…”

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Tears blurred his vision as he raised his head to take in the scene. Towering horses twice his size snorted, their breath visible in the cold air. Around them stood men clad in leather armor, swords glinting in their hands. They filled Yujin’s fading sight like a terrible omen.

“He was slumped in the corner of the hut. What should we do with him?”

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“Are they all dead now? What about the women we left alive earlier?”

“Taron took them for archery practice. They’re probably all dead by now.”

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“Is that so? Then take this one. We might find some use for him. What about the herbs?”

“We’ve collected all of them.”

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No. This is a dream. It has to be. This can’t be real. My family… my grandmother… they’re all gone.

The happiness Yujin had thought would last forever ended cruelly and abruptly.

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* * *

“Grandmother, no… Grandmother…”

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Yujin’s eyes shot open as he gasped for air, the words still escaping his lips. The familiar yet suffocating ceiling of a Mounted Tribe hut loomed above him, pressing down on his fevered chest. Breathing was difficult, and his chest felt unbearably tight. His entire body was drenched in sweat, cold and clammy, yet he shivered as though frozen. Even lying still, the world around him spun relentlessly.

As he had feared, it seemed the tearing inside him had caused an infection. But seeking help from the herbalist wasn’t an option. Within the Mounted Tribe, only warriors had the privilege of visiting the herbalist for treatment.

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From the depths of dawn until the break of morning, Yujin endured Bart’s presence. The pain had been excruciating, as though his body were breaking apart. Yet, amidst the agony, there was a strange, bittersweet satisfaction. As the red sun began to peek over the horizon, Yujin had left Bart’s hut and returned to the communal quarters. By the afternoon, a fever had overtaken him, and he had been granted permission by the elder to rest.

Curled up in a corner of the communal hut, he drifted in and out of fevered sleep. He had likely been lying there for over a day, but the high fever made it hard to tell night from day. The nightmare he had just woken from left him feeling even weaker. Recovery didn’t seem anywhere near. Struggling to breathe, his ragged, uneven breaths filled the still air before he once again succumbed to a faint, sleep-like stupor.

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Footsteps echoed softly through the communal hut, waking him just enough to stir. Someone had entered. Yujin shifted slightly, barely awake, as the footsteps halted and the hut fell silent again.

Who could it be? Is it already night? Did the others return?

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Forcing his eyes open with great effort, Yujin turned his head. His blurred vision slowly focused, revealing Bart standing just a few steps away.

“Bart…”

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He murmured, his voice barely audible.

“…”

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Was this a hallucination caused by his fever? Or was he still dreaming?

Bart approached and sat beside Yujin, gently brushing his hand over Yujin’s feverish forehead.

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It must be a dream.

Whatever it was, it felt warm and comforting. Yujin, in his haze, smiled faintly as Bart carefully wiped the sweat and tears from his messy face.

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Since it’s a dream, it’s okay.

Emboldened by the safety of the dream, Yujin slowly lifted his trembling fingers, signaling Bart to hold his hand. Bart hesitated for a moment but then took Yujin’s hand in his own.

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It’s a happy dream.

Not wanting to wake up from this comforting illusion, Yujin let his eyes close again. He felt like he was sinking into the earth, a weightless sensation overtaking him, until something uncomfortable brushed against the inside of his mouth. He tried to shake it off, turning his head slightly, but someone firmly held his jaw, forcing his mouth open, and pressed something inside.

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No, stop.

The high fever made every breath a struggle, and the chills left his body trembling uncontrollably. Now, with this foreign sensation in his mouth, Yujin’s swollen, tear-streaked eyes filled again.

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“Ugh… no, stop,” he whimpered.

“Yujin,” Bart’s voice came, steady and calm.

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“No… please, stop…”

“It’s alright. Open your mouth.”

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Was this still part of the dream? The sound of Bart’s voice felt so close, almost like a hallucination. Forcing his eyes open, Yujin saw Bart’s face hovering just inches away from his own.

Bart leaned in, pressing his lips to Yujin’s. His tongue gently pushed against the back of Yujin’s throat, urging down something bitter that slid into his stomach.

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And just like that, Yujin’s fleeting, happy dream came to an end.

* * *

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“Are you feeling better now?”

The elder aunt’s dry tone greeted Yujin, who had only just begun to regain his strength. He nodded weakly.

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“Yes, I’m alright now.”

“From now on, you’ll be working in the kitchen.”

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“The kitchen?” Yujin blinked in surprise.

“Yes, you’ll start tomorrow. Rest for today.”

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“Yes, understood.”

As soon as the elder aunt left the communal hut, a man who shared the space with Yujin rushed over excitedly.

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“Yujin, congratulations!”

“Thanks.”

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“Don’t forget about me if there’s an opening in the kitchen later. Believe it or not, I used to hear I was a pretty decent cook back in my old tribe!”

“Got it.”

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After being bedridden for over ten days, rumors had even started spreading that Yujin might have contracted some kind of contagious disease. Barely a day had passed since he’d recovered his senses, and yet, he was already assigned to kitchen work.

It was an unexpected stroke of luck. Yujin had no experience with cooking, so being chosen for such a role felt like a miracle. While he had occasionally thought about wanting to work in the kitchen, he had never seriously considered it, assuming there wasn’t much he could do.

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Working in the kitchen meant spending the day preparing food and washing dishes, but always within the hut. It was cool in the summer and warm in the winter, a stark contrast to the grueling outdoor tasks. What’s more, his duties became clear and defined—no more running around doing odd jobs or errands for everyone.

Yujin was overjoyed. He wouldn’t have to wash clothes in freezing water during winter or tan leather under the scorching summer sun. He wouldn’t be dragged around all day only to be scolded for not being visible when needed.

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As he tidied up his bedding, Yujin felt a flutter of excitement, though his thoughts drifted back to the dream where Bart had appeared.

“Hey,” Yujin hesitated before speaking.

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“Yeah? What is it?”

“During the time I was sick, did any warrior come to visit this hut?”

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“A warrior? No, none came by. Why would a warrior come here? Maybe if it were the women’s hut.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

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So it really was a dream. It had been so vivid that Yujin wondered if Bart might have truly visited him. But it seemed no warriors had come by after all. He hadn’t expected anything, yet a strange pang of disappointment lingered. Still, that was all it was—a fleeting feeling.

The first day in the kitchen was grueling. The process of extracting and cleaning animal intestines was particularly revolting. Yujin broke out in a cold sweat trying to suppress the nausea that kept rising. After finishing his tasks, he headed to the creek to wash off the animal blood that had soaked his body.

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As he rinsed himself, the sound of rustling caught his attention. He turned his head.

“Who’s there… Bayu?”

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Bayu, the wild dog, sniffed around Yujin’s discarded clothes, circling the area. It seemed the smell of the innards Yujin had brought for him had drawn him there.

“Here, I saved this for you. Have you been doing well?”

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As Yujin dressed himself, he handed over the scraps of meat. Bayu wagged his tail enthusiastically, grateful for the offering.

“Bayu, do you come down here even when I’m not around? What if someone sees you?”

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At Yujin’s words, Bayu briefly glanced up before nonchalantly turning his attention back to the food, eating with single-minded focus.

“Don’t come out here unless I call you. It’s dangerous.”

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Knowing Bayu couldn’t understand, Yujin still continued talking to him. Bayu was the only one Yujin could truly open up to in the Mounted Tribe. A wild creature who might vanish one day and who never responded with words, yet Yujin found comfort in him.

“I’ve started working in the kitchen now. Maybe I can bring more of this for you from now on. Earlier, I saw them throwing some of it away, so I grabbed a bit just in case. You seem to like it.”

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Bayu licked his lips and sat down next to Yujin, lingering as he often did. Perhaps this habitual closeness was why Yujin had grown so fond of him.

“And since I’ll be working in the kitchen, I might get to see Bart more often too. Instead of just helping out when they’re short-handed, I’ll be there every day.”

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Bayu yawned deeply and closed his eyes, prompting Yujin to stroke his head gently.

“Between you and Bart, I think that’s what’s keeping me going. This place is so hard to endure.”

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As the words left his lips, Yujin realized they were true. The thought of seeing Bart again had helped him stave off despair, and having Bayu by his side gave him someone to talk to.

Yujin’s fingers brushed over his lips as memories of that night resurfaced. The kiss, and the lingering sweetness on his tongue. The pain of accepting Bart’s body had been immense, but the fact that it was Bart—holding him, choosing him—filled Yujin with a strange sense of fulfillment. He smiled faintly as he gazed up at the twilight sky.

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“I miss him.”

Yujin didn’t know why he had grown to like Bart so much. He just did, from the very beginning. There wasn’t a clear reason, but he had often tried to find one. It wasn’t difficult to come up with many reasons, yet none seemed precise or definitive.

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The only certainty was that his feelings for Bart had deepened. It might even be love. No, it ‘was’ love. Yujin understood how absurd it was, given their circumstances and positions, but that didn’t change how he felt. It was as if he had been born to love Bart—unconditionally, wholeheartedly, and without reason.

* * *

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Yujin worked tirelessly in the kitchen, determined not to get kicked out. Despite his best efforts, he still struggled to adapt to handling blood-soaked, slippery innards. Several times a day, he fought back the urge to vomit. On the rare occasions he had to skin animals and clean their entrails thoroughly, he would run as far away from the kitchen as possible to retch in private.

Most of his tasks revolved around washing innards and stripping hides, though he occasionally helped with the mountain of dishes or assisted in food preparation. As unpleasant as it was, Yujin didn’t mind too much since it allowed him to gather scraps of meat for Bayu.

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Some of the others in the kitchen, pitying Yujin for always being stuck with the worst jobs, occasionally shared bits of leftover meat with him. These were often discarded scraps, but Yujin diligently saved them.

Whenever it was time to deliver finished meals to the warriors, Yujin would glance around their huts, hoping for a chance encounter with Bart. Yet, he never managed to meet him. At best, he caught fleeting glimpses of Bart training or talking with other warriors from a distance.

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Since that night, Yujin hadn’t had another opportunity to be alone with Bart. Bart spent his days training or hunting, while Yujin was too preoccupied with kitchen work to seek him out. Still, every night, as darkness fell and Yujin lay in his bedding, preparing for sleep, his thoughts inevitably drifted to Bart.

Even if he couldn’t see him or speak to him, the memory of Bart lingered in his mind like a quiet, steadfast presence.

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He missed Bart so much. He wanted to be held by him again.

Even though the pain had been unbearable, as if his waist was splitting apart with every rough movement Bart made inside him, the moments when Bart embraced him, called his name, and kissed him were filled with overwhelming happiness. Yujin missed him. He wanted to talk to him. He wanted to ask—had Bart felt the same joy he had that night?

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One advantage of the grueling kitchen work was how quickly time flew by. The difficult, unfamiliar tasks gradually became routine, though they remained exhausting. One dim evening, as the day wound down, Yujin made a decision. With a pounding heart, he headed toward Bart’s hut.

“Hey, how have you been? You remember me, right? Yujin. I have something for you, so I thought I’d stop by. Can I come in for a bit? It won’t take long… Hi, it’s me, Yujin. Do you remember? I brought something for you. I made this myself… It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been busy. How have you been? This is something I made—try it.”

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Yujin muttered to himself, practicing the words he wanted to say as he fidgeted nervously with the small white pouch in his hand.

The elder aunt occasionally shared scraps of meat with the kitchen workers. Though it wasn’t the best quality, meat was meat. It was a privilege reserved exclusively for those working in the kitchen.

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Yujin had carefully saved those pieces of meat, drying and seasoning them with herbs he had gathered from the mountains. Among the herbs, he chose only those known to pair well with red meat and boost energy. He placed the dried meat and herbs into his cleanest white pouch, handling it with care.

He wanted to give it to Bart. No, more than that—he needed an excuse to see him, to talk to him.

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