The country of Cloud River was a very small nation in the Eastern Lands. Unlike their glorious neighbor, the vast Great East Heaven country, Cloud River had little to boast of. It could only be said to be pure and untouched, with beautiful natural sceneries that stirred the souls.
It could also be said to be a tiny backwater country with no hopes of producing anyone or anything great.
This story begins in a backwater nation's even more backwater village.
A young boy, no greater than thirteen years old, could be seen running as if his life depended on it. With a middling height and a skinny frame, Van was really nothing to look at. Several meters in front of him, several boys were surrounding a small girl with golden hair. At their lead was a young boy with grey eyes and an expression of contempt. It was Ryan, the Chief Hunter's precious son.
Van's expression was ugly; dark brows furrowed and teeth clenched. He gave off the aura of a wild beast, thirsty for blood, as he ran towards them.
"Get away from my sister, you little shit!" He shouted.
Blind with rage, Van leaped at Ryan and shoved him to the ground. He managed to get a few solid whacks at Ryan before someone kicked him off.
The tables turned.
Ryan's followers held his shoulders down as Van struggled in the dirt.
With a dark expression, Ryan sat on Van's back. He was ready to deliver a vicious blow.
"Stop!" Finn, his little sister cried out. She ran forward, stumbling, and tried to shield her older brother.
Ryan's fist shifted too late.
Finn flew into the dirt, a crumpled ragdoll.
Ryan turned back and struck Van across the face. His grey eyes were accusing.
With aching teeth and a mouth full of blood, Van fought back. He twisted violently, trying to loosen his attacker's grip, his face and chest burning in pain.
The bullies surrounding him jeered. They kicked him, but it was their words that hurt the most.
"Dirty orphan!"
"Your parents abandoned you here 'cuz they didn't want you!"
"Human trash, just like their son!"
"F**k off! Don't talk shit about my parents!" Van shouted and swang wildly at his attackers. Kicks rained down on his sides and the fishy taste of blood burbled up at the back of his throat.
Finn had clambered back up, her wispy blonde hair a halo around her face and her apple cheeks an angry red.
This angelic girl screamed like a demon and jumped into the fray, slamming a boy onto the ground. The boys around her scattered, confused and a little terrified.
Van grinned and redoubled his efforts. Somehow, a fist slipped out of someone's sweaty grasp and he clocked a bully across the cheek. Hard.
The boy wailed like a banshee, that, plus Finn's terrifyingly unholy shrieks finally got attention from the rest of the villagers.
Van might be the target of most villager's apathy, but his little sister Finn was a bright, cheerful girl who no one disliked. On most days, she spent her time with the village aunties, who braided her hair and slipped her snacks and treats when they thought no one was looking. The village chief's wife, Sherpa, who was childless, fancied taking her in if she could, but she immensely disliked Finn's older brother, that Van, who ran about like a wild child and always responded to elders with a sullen look in his eye. His temperament was too stubborn, and his age, almost thirteen now, was too old to be re-educated under her wing. Trying to figure out a way to separate little Finn from her elder brother had been giving her a huge headache and made her toss and turn at night. Finally, her husband the Village Chief, Leif, put his foot down – Finn was inseparable from her brother, and he would not tolerate that brat under his roof. That was that, and Sherpa had no choice but to swallow down her loneliness and endure the empty household.
Luckily, Sherpa and the other women were close-by, harvesting blackberries along the waterway that ran alongside the village. Hearing the blood-curdling screams, they dropped their baskets, hearts in their throats.
Were bandits attacking? Was there a murderer?
They looked at each other in horror.
Sherpa arrived first on the scene.
She took in the disorder, and the dirty, bloodied form of tiny Finn as she wrestled with a boy almost twice her size.
She could not believe her eyes.
But a few moments were all she needed to grasp the whole situation. Even as the other women arrived with their husbands in tow to beat up the so-called 'bandits,' Sherpa dragged Van and Ryan away by the ear.
Van struggled futilely in her strong grip. Ryan, also unsatisfied, gave him a sharp kick to the shin.
Van gritted his teeth and glared daggers at his nemesis.
Soon enough Sherpa's husband, Leif, appeared. He was a somewhat fierce-looking, middle-aged man with a livid scar that ran from his bicep to wrist. A souvenir from a fight with a bear, legend told.
"What is the meaning of this?" Leif questioned, taking in Van's state and Ryan's belligerent expression, already grasping 80% of the situation. Unfortunately, he was too biased to make a just decision. Firstly, Ryan's father, Blade, was his best friend, and secondly, he disliked Van.
Ryan stood up and pointed accusingly, "It was him! He attacked me first!"
Leif's expression was unreadable. He looked towards Van.
"Shut up! You were hurting Finn!" Van shouted, rage at uncontrollable height.
"Did anyone see that? Huh?" Ryan taunted.
Shaking, Van pulled Finn protectively to his chest and pointed to her injuries, "How do you explain this then?"
The villagers tittered and cooed, feeling sympathy at the sight of the scrapes that marred tender porcelain skin. Finn's stony, trying-not-to-cry face was adorable and caused not just a few villagers to glance disapprovingly at Ryan and his gang.
Ryan stiffened his jaw, "She fell. It has nothing to do with me."
Leif stepped in, "It is not okay to baselessly slander people like that, Van. You are accusing him of a serious deed without any evidence at all."
Van barely reigned his temper in.
The villagers disdained him, he knew beyond doubt, for what reason, he had no idea. The lack of justice frustrated him.
Finn reddened and let out a loud cry, burying her head into his dirty chest.
"V-v-VaaAAN," she wailed sadly, pudgy hands thumping into his bruised sides, "I-I-I was so scared…"
Van winced, his little sister's fists sure packed a lot more force than they looked. He glanced around the village square and noted that Finn's crying face was earning her much sympathy. Seeing her disheveled state, even Leif sighed and retracted some of his fierceness.
After a while, the village elders came to a consensus.
Ryan and his cronies were ordered to forage in the forest for a week for 'causing a disturbance in the village.'
What they had to do was simple and easy, and there were no consequences for failure.
Van, on the other hand, was accused of 'attacking another villager unprovoked.' He was to collect herbs from the mountain - the one full of fierce beasts that could rend you to pieces with one bite.
If he failed, he and his sister would be evicted from the village. They didn't need to feed extra useless, hangers-on.
Van shook his head, burning with disgust.
Getting evicted from the village was nothing for him, he would happily have left on his own. However, his little sister was treated very well here, and in the bigger towns, little girls are in more danger.
Luckily for him, Van spent most of his time on the mountainside anyway, foraging and hunting.
The crowd dispersed, leaving Van and his little sister alone in the village square.
Blade, tall and wide as a mountain, with a sharp spear strapped to his back, dragged his protesting son away, ignoring Ryan's dark glares and futile struggle in his grasp.
Van sighed and patted Finn's soft golden hair.
"Sorry I didn't come to protect you sooner," he said regretfully, lips stained with his own blood.
Finn shook her head violently from side to side.
"No sorry," he heard her muffled voice from his chest.
She peeked upwards, eyes guileless and glimmering with the adoration of her strong, best big brother.
Van beheld the hero-worship in her eyes. He could let himself down, but he could never let down Finn!
"Big brother will be okay, in the big mountain, right?" She asked softly, cutely tilting her head to the side. Her thin arms clung to him as surely as an octopus would.
"You know I will," Van replied, assured of that at least, "What do you want me to bring back?"
Hearing this, Finn immediately perked up.
"Pretty scale, pretty scale!" She implored, eyes big and glittering with excitement, "Make necklace!"
Van immediately got a headache, not knowing whether to tell his little sister that the Rainbow Carp were the most elusive creatures to catch on the whole mountainside. Last time, he'd managed to fleece two glittering scales off a baby carp's back and did not see hide nor hair of another one for months.
He looked at the hopeful look in her eyes and did not say no. She deserved all the nice things he could get her.
The next morning, Van was up with the sun. Out of some old hemp cloth, he crafted a tunic for himself and Finn.
They were roughly shaped, but wearable.
Soon after, he left the tent.
In the village square, a hunter passed the elder's foraging requirements to Van, with strict reminders that he needed to deliver everything on the list by the end of the week.
At least the forage items weren't rare or difficult to harvest.
The only difficulty was the sheer number needed. He might need to go a bit deeper than he usually did, as the areas he usually roamed would not have such high amounts of Iron Grass or Mooncap Mushroom.
_____________
The hunter that had given Van his requirements watched him leave with a glint in his eye.
Shortly after he left, Blade appeared, his large frame blocking out the sunlight. He watched Van's thin figure leave the village. Eventually, he spoke:
"You did as I instructed, hunter?"
"Yes, sir."
"Hmph," said Blade, a derisive look in his eyes.
"He won't survive a week. We've made sure of that!"
The country of Cloud River was a very small nation in the Eastern Lands. Unlike their glorious neighbor, the vast Great East Heaven country, Cloud River had little to boast of. It could only be said to be pure and untouched, with beautiful natural sceneries that stirred the souls.
It could also be said to be a tiny backwater country with no hopes of producing anyone or anything great.
This story begins in a backwater nation's even more backwater village.
A young boy, no greater than thirteen years old, could be seen running as if his life depended on it. With a middling height and a skinny frame, Van was really nothing to look at. Several meters in front of him, several boys were surrounding a small girl with golden hair. At their lead was a young boy with grey eyes and an expression of contempt. It was Ryan, the Chief Hunter's precious son.
Van's expression was ugly; dark brows furrowed and teeth clenched. He gave off the aura of a wild beast, thirsty for blood, as he ran towards them.
"Get away from my sister, you little shit!" He shouted.
Blind with rage, Van leaped at Ryan and shoved him to the ground. He managed to get a few solid whacks at Ryan before someone kicked him off.
The tables turned.
Ryan's followers held his shoulders down as Van struggled in the dirt.
With a dark expression, Ryan sat on Van's back. He was ready to deliver a vicious blow.
"Stop!" Finn, his little sister cried out. She ran forward, stumbling, and tried to shield her older brother.
Ryan's fist shifted too late.
Finn flew into the dirt, a crumpled ragdoll.
Ryan turned back and struck Van across the face. His grey eyes were accusing.
With aching teeth and a mouth full of blood, Van fought back. He twisted violently, trying to loosen his attacker's grip, his face and chest burning in pain.
The bullies surrounding him jeered. They kicked him, but it was their words that hurt the most.
"Dirty orphan!"
"Your parents abandoned you here 'cuz they didn't want you!"
"Human trash, just like their son!"
"F**k off! Don't talk shit about my parents!" Van shouted and swang wildly at his attackers. Kicks rained down on his sides and the fishy taste of blood burbled up at the back of his throat.
Finn had clambered back up, her wispy blonde hair a halo around her face and her apple cheeks an angry red.
This angelic girl screamed like a demon and jumped into the fray, slamming a boy onto the ground. The boys around her scattered, confused and a little terrified.
Van grinned and redoubled his efforts. Somehow, a fist slipped out of someone's sweaty grasp and he clocked a bully across the cheek. Hard.
The boy wailed like a banshee, that, plus Finn's terrifyingly unholy shrieks finally got attention from the rest of the villagers.
Van might be the target of most villager's apathy, but his little sister Finn was a bright, cheerful girl who no one disliked. On most days, she spent her time with the village aunties, who braided her hair and slipped her snacks and treats when they thought no one was looking. The village chief's wife, Sherpa, who was childless, fancied taking her in if she could, but she immensely disliked Finn's older brother, that Van, who ran about like a wild child and always responded to elders with a sullen look in his eye. His temperament was too stubborn, and his age, almost thirteen now, was too old to be re-educated under her wing. Trying to figure out a way to separate little Finn from her elder brother had been giving her a huge headache and made her toss and turn at night. Finally, her husband the Village Chief, Leif, put his foot down – Finn was inseparable from her brother, and he would not tolerate that brat under his roof. That was that, and Sherpa had no choice but to swallow down her loneliness and endure the empty household.
Luckily, Sherpa and the other women were close-by, harvesting blackberries along the waterway that ran alongside the village. Hearing the blood-curdling screams, they dropped their baskets, hearts in their throats.
Were bandits attacking? Was there a murderer?
They looked at each other in horror.
Sherpa arrived first on the scene.
She took in the disorder, and the dirty, bloodied form of tiny Finn as she wrestled with a boy almost twice her size.
She could not believe her eyes.
But a few moments were all she needed to grasp the whole situation. Even as the other women arrived with their husbands in tow to beat up the so-called 'bandits,' Sherpa dragged Van and Ryan away by the ear.
Van struggled futilely in her strong grip. Ryan, also unsatisfied, gave him a sharp kick to the shin.
Van gritted his teeth and glared daggers at his nemesis.
Soon enough Sherpa's husband, Leif, appeared. He was a somewhat fierce-looking, middle-aged man with a livid scar that ran from his bicep to wrist. A souvenir from a fight with a bear, legend told.
"What is the meaning of this?" Leif questioned, taking in Van's state and Ryan's belligerent expression, already grasping 80% of the situation. Unfortunately, he was too biased to make a just decision. Firstly, Ryan's father, Blade, was his best friend, and secondly, he disliked Van.
Ryan stood up and pointed accusingly, "It was him! He attacked me first!"
Leif's expression was unreadable. He looked towards Van.
"Shut up! You were hurting Finn!" Van shouted, rage at uncontrollable height.
"Did anyone see that? Huh?" Ryan taunted.
Shaking, Van pulled Finn protectively to his chest and pointed to her injuries, "How do you explain this then?"
The villagers tittered and cooed, feeling sympathy at the sight of the scrapes that marred tender porcelain skin. Finn's stony, trying-not-to-cry face was adorable and caused not just a few villagers to glance disapprovingly at Ryan and his gang.
Ryan stiffened his jaw, "She fell. It has nothing to do with me."
Leif stepped in, "It is not okay to baselessly slander people like that, Van. You are accusing him of a serious deed without any evidence at all."
Van barely reigned his temper in.
The villagers disdained him, he knew beyond doubt, for what reason, he had no idea. The lack of justice frustrated him.
Finn reddened and let out a loud cry, burying her head into his dirty chest.
"V-v-VaaAAN," she wailed sadly, pudgy hands thumping into his bruised sides, "I-I-I was so scared…"
Van winced, his little sister's fists sure packed a lot more force than they looked. He glanced around the village square and noted that Finn's crying face was earning her much sympathy. Seeing her disheveled state, even Leif sighed and retracted some of his fierceness.
After a while, the village elders came to a consensus.
Ryan and his cronies were ordered to forage in the forest for a week for 'causing a disturbance in the village.'
What they had to do was simple and easy, and there were no consequences for failure.
Van, on the other hand, was accused of 'attacking another villager unprovoked.' He was to collect herbs from the mountain - the one full of fierce beasts that could rend you to pieces with one bite.
If he failed, he and his sister would be evicted from the village. They didn't need to feed extra useless, hangers-on.
Van shook his head, burning with disgust.
Getting evicted from the village was nothing for him, he would happily have left on his own. However, his little sister was treated very well here, and in the bigger towns, little girls are in more danger.
Luckily for him, Van spent most of his time on the mountainside anyway, foraging and hunting.
The crowd dispersed, leaving Van and his little sister alone in the village square.
Blade, tall and wide as a mountain, with a sharp spear strapped to his back, dragged his protesting son away, ignoring Ryan's dark glares and futile struggle in his grasp.
Van sighed and patted Finn's soft golden hair.
"Sorry I didn't come to protect you sooner," he said regretfully, lips stained with his own blood.
Finn shook her head violently from side to side.
"No sorry," he heard her muffled voice from his chest.
She peeked upwards, eyes guileless and glimmering with the adoration of her strong, best big brother.
Van beheld the hero-worship in her eyes. He could let himself down, but he could never let down Finn!
"Big brother will be okay, in the big mountain, right?" She asked softly, cutely tilting her head to the side. Her thin arms clung to him as surely as an octopus would.
"You know I will," Van replied, assured of that at least, "What do you want me to bring back?"
Hearing this, Finn immediately perked up.
"Pretty scale, pretty scale!" She implored, eyes big and glittering with excitement, "Make necklace!"
Van immediately got a headache, not knowing whether to tell his little sister that the Rainbow Carp were the most elusive creatures to catch on the whole mountainside. Last time, he'd managed to fleece two glittering scales off a baby carp's back and did not see hide nor hair of another one for months.
He looked at the hopeful look in her eyes and did not say no. She deserved all the nice things he could get her.
The next morning, Van was up with the sun. Out of some old hemp cloth, he crafted a tunic for himself and Finn.
They were roughly shaped, but wearable.
Soon after, he left the tent.
In the village square, a hunter passed the elder's foraging requirements to Van, with strict reminders that he needed to deliver everything on the list by the end of the week.
At least the forage items weren't rare or difficult to harvest.
The only difficulty was the sheer number needed. He might need to go a bit deeper than he usually did, as the areas he usually roamed would not have such high amounts of Iron Grass or Mooncap Mushroom.
_____________
The hunter that had given Van his requirements watched him leave with a glint in his eye.
Shortly after he left, Blade appeared, his large frame blocking out the sunlight. He watched Van's thin figure leave the village. Eventually, he spoke:
"You did as I instructed, hunter?"
"Yes, sir."
"Hmph," said Blade, a derisive look in his eyes.
"He won't survive a week. We've made sure of that!"
