Broken Glass - Taekook

7

The five of us travel in silence, uncertain and terrified of what lies ahead: after all, if the prophecy is true, we're expected to fix so many parts of life. That's a responsibility we have to carry with us, wherever we go, whatever we end up doing. At the end of this, I might have to kill another person, or many people, and that reality scares me. I've never wanted to end someone else's life, and the knowledge that it may be necessary in order to free Eithyr from the king's control is incredibly unsettling. 

Eager to escape my own vicious cycle of thoughts, I look around, at a forest which is slowly beginning to wake up. A gentle breeze has started, and there's a faint scent of pine in the air, mixed with something natural that could just be damp earth, caused by the dew that clings to leaves like a coating of clear diamond. The faint melody of birdsong echoes through the forest, like a farewell song, calling out to tell our story as we go. Preparing the legends that may come after me, when I'm gone.

And even as we move away from the river, I can still hear it, singing away quietly to itself. Every so often, there's a splash, as something falls into the water, as something dives, hunting for fish or plants on the riverbed. Our footsteps fall almost silently on leaf litter, on little ferns that thrive in the shade of the trees. The last golden rays from the sunrise come through a canopy of leaves over our heads, creating a dappled green display of light on the forest floor. The harsher brightness of daylight hits against the small ponds we pass, turning them into natural mirrors, reflecting a clear sky, almost entirely clear of clouds.

About an hour into our journey, Namjoon pauses, turns slightly to the right, consulting his map in the process, and the silence is finally broken when he begins to speak. "We could go directly south," he muses, "but we also need to head west. If we're headed for the king's castle, we need to get into the centre of Eithyr. It's more southern, though....which makes things a little difficult."

I blink a few times, not understanding anything he's saying, and he must see the confusion in my eyes, because he smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, Jungkook. I forgot that you don't necessarily know the geography of Eithyr." He pauses, considers something, and then holds out the map. "Do you want to have a quick look, so you get an idea of the lay of the land?"

I nod eagerly, stepping forward and taking the parchment from him, looking over it quickly. His words start to make sense, with the visual guide, much to my relief.

Hazelpoint is a tiny village in the far northeast of the kingdom. Indeed, the only thing that exists past there on this map is wild country, the three mountains I can still just about see if I look directly north. For whatever reason, I've been brought to the very edge of Eithyr. Namjoon points out the capital, just south of the exact centre of the kingdom, and my eyes widen at the thought of the distance we need to cross to get there.

He names each mountain in a language he calls Old Eithyrian: Sojal, the southernmost peak, standing directly east of Hazelpoint on the map. The name translates to 'The Watcher', Namjoon explains. Taju k'Eithyr, northernmost point of the triangle of mountains, the largest of the three, and apparently the highest point in Eithyr: Eithyr's Crown. And finally, there's Kinzul Viyo, which is even further east, slightly less to the north than Taju k'Eithyr, the name translating to 'The Wild Boar'. On closer inspection, I understand the inspiration behind it: Kinzul Viyo has the shape of the head of a wild boar, tusks and all. 

According to them, the range has existed since the beginning of time. There are songs sung about it, and nobody truly knows what creatures reside there. The rumours tell of tall, fur covered humanoids with giant feet, but there's never been proof of that legend. Namjoon confides that he believes this is a tale spun by the king's forces, to keep people from leaving Eithyr, as no report of this strange creature exists in stories that are older than a century old.