Chapter 1: Sky Mountains

“You are going to be a great warrior, Urich.”

“Hah, stop it with your nonsense, you old hag.”

“Heehee,” the tribe shaman snickered. “I saw it in my nightmare, Urich. You were the Warrior of Light.”

“I don’t believe in that voodoo or fortune telling of yours; you’re all high on your herbal drinks and whatnot,” Urich said.

Urich was a sixteen-year-old tribe warrior. He had just gone through his coming-of-age ceremony two years before, and he was also the strongest fighter among his age group.

“When are you going to step down as shaman? Isn’t it about time you kicked the bucket?” Urich questioned the old lady while chewing on some deer jerky. His well-trained physique was as striking as a leopard’s.

The shaman smacked Urich on the butt with her staff. “Tsk, don’t rush me, you punk. I know I don’t have much longer.”

“Oh, you old hag!” Urich raised his fist in anger, but he couldn’t let himself hit an elderly. Instead, he just finished off the rest of his jerky and got up.

“Where are you off to now, Urich?” the elderly woman asked.

“I plan to go hunting with my brothers,” Urich answered.

“Oh yes, your fellow warriors seem to follow you around quite well. The chief’s son must be jealous,” the shaman responded.

“That guy’s just in his own head. I have zero interest in becoming the next chief.”

“That’s not what everyone else seems to think. Your name is always in the discussion in that matter,” the old lady said.

“If I don't want to do it, who can make me do it? You know what, whatever. Take care of yourself, Old Hag.”

With that, Urich turned and left.

“Punk,” the shaman murmured as she watched Urich's figure disappearing into the distance. She could see a faint light surrounding him.

“You are going to be a great warrior, Urich,” the shaman muttered as she got back to her herbal drink.

* * *

Urich joined four other young warriors from the Stone Axe Tribe who had already gathered.

“You’re late, Urich,” one of them remarked.

“I was with the old hag,” Urich answered, scratching his chest and spitting on the ground.

“Why care so much about an old shaman who’s staring at the face of death?” one of the warriors said as he let out a chuckle. Such was the cycle of life: aging and eventually departing.

“It’s bad luck to let a senile old lady die alone. These occasional check-ins are the least I can do,” Urich muttered as he took a look at the four warriors. They were his loyal followers.

“By the way, are we really going to ascend the Sky Mountains?” one of them asked, with visible doubt in his eyes.

Urich laughed in response. “The chief’s son recently brought home a wolf as big as a whole calf. We gotta go up and find a prey bigger and more impressive than that. We can’t let him win, can we?”

Urich pointed at the towering peaks in the distance with an air of confidence. The Sky Mountains was a place no one had ever ventured beyond. Legends had it that the world of spirits was located on the other side of the mountains.

“But it’s the Sky Mountains, Urich," a fellow warrior cautiously voiced out.

“We’ll just hunt at the foot of the mountains like the grown ups do. If it still bothers you, it’s not too late to back out,” Urich commented.

If anyone backed out now, they would be labeled a coward and the story would spread among the whole tribe. That would be a massive disgrace.

“Eh, we are going to have to check it out eventually anyway. I’m in,” one warrior said with firm resolve and raised his hand. The others raised their hands in agreement. The decision was made.

“Perfect,” Urich proclaimed as he patted his comrades on their shoulders. “We hunt in the Sky Mountains today, brothers!”

In their tribe, those of the same age were not only friends, but brothers.

“Come on, let’s go! Last one there has to carry the game home!”

The five young warriors sprinted away. They had grown accustomed to running by now, and not long after, they were well on their way through the forest to the snow-capped peaks of the Sky Mountains.

Climbing the Sky Mountains was forbidden. The tribe believed that the spirits lived beyond these mountains, and the village elders had warned that those who crossed the range would never return.

‘Everyone goes to the foot of the mountains.’

Urich mused to himself. Technically, approaching the mountains was not forbidden. Even the grown-ups of the tribe resorted to hunting in the foothills when their hunting trips yielded little return.

“Urich, you really have no intention to become the chief?” a fellow warrior asked.

“I told you, I have no interest in that sort of thing whatsoever,” Urich snorted with visible annoyance.

“Then why are you always trying to one-up the chief’s son?” the warrior asked again.

“Because he acts like he’s better than me when he’s not even anything special!” Urich answered.

“That’s exactly why you have to become the chief, Urich. Do you think you can follow a guy you think so little of when he eventually becomes the chief of our tribe?”

Urich clenched his jaws shut as the weight of the warrior's words sank in. The realization was troubling; he would have no choice but to bow down to the chief’s son eventually when the latter took over.

“I’d hate that,” Urich said.

“If you don’t want to follow the chief, you have to become one yourself, no?” the warrior questioned.

“Shut up, that’s a problem for later,” Urich snapped back as he slashed the tall grass with his scimitar. He cleared a path through the thick undergrowth with swift, precise strikes.

‘Urich is the best candidate as the future chief.’

Urich's loyal followers shared the same sentiments. Even taking the adults into account, Urich was already the strongest warrior. He used the tribe’s combat techniques with unparalleled finesse, and he had already secured multiple victories against rival tribes.

Urich’s name and bravery were already known throughout the neighboring tribes. Whenever he stepped into a village, maidens would eagerly line up to be chosen as his bride and to carry the lineage of such a formidable warrior.

‘The shaman always talks about how Urich is going to be a mighty warrior.’

Even without the shaman’s prophecy, everyone in the tribe knew that Urich was destined to become a mighty warrior. It was only logical that someone like him would become the next chief.

‘The chief position is reserved for the most revered warrior. Urich will become our next chief, whether he likes it or not.’

Suddenly, Urich, who had been leading the way, raised his hand to signal the rest to stop. The warriors instantly crouched low and held their breath.

“It’s a bear’s footprint—a big one too. Enough to get us some bragging rights back at the village,” Urich whispered as he stared at the footprint on the ground.

“By the looks of it, it’s headed up the mountains. If we follow its tracks, we’ll reach the midsection of the Sky Mountains,” a warrior commented.

“It’ll only take us a minute to hunt it down and come straight back down. Why, are you perhaps scared?” Urich responded with a sense of mockery. The warriors of the tribe risked their lives every day. Those who avoided challenges to preserve their lives were not deemed fit to be warriors.

“Scared?” the warrior smirked, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just cautious because you might break the rule.”

Urich's eyes narrowed into slits with a hint of skepticism within. “Rules are meant to be broken. I only believe what I see with my own eyes, not what a bunch of oldies tell us.”

Urich gazed at the snow-capped peaks of the Sky Mountains. The rays of sunlight reflecting off the pure white peaks were almost blinding.

Thump, thump.

Urich’s heart was racing. He had always wondered what lay beyond those mountains.

“I’m going up. You guys with me?” Urich asked his fellow warriors.

The warriors exchanged glances and nodded in unison. They were like a wolfpack—the alpha’s wish was their command.

Urich followed the bear’s trail up into the Sky Mountains. The grass was gradually getting shorter, and the air was getting colder.

“

Huff... huff...

this bear sure has great stamina,” one of the warriors remarked through panting breaths.

“I think you’ve just been lazy with training,” another warrior teased in response.

“I can see your face turning more and more red from the exhaustion,” the first warrior retorted.

The young warriors began to feel the gradual increase in their fatigue as they bantered among themselves. Urich was the only one who seemed unfazed by the climb.

‘Is this guy even human? Didn’t we all grow up on the same food?’

Urich had the stamina of a superhuman. Even the warriors who trained day and night had to squeeze everything out of themselves just to keep up with his pace.

Chomp

.

Urich grabbed a piece of jerky from his pocket and took a bite. Even during a chase, his appetite still remained.

“Eat something, guys. You gotta eat to keep on moving,” Urich grinned as he looked at his group.

“Yeah, maybe for you,” the other warriors grumbled under their breath.

“This stench...” Urich sniffed out the distinct stench of an animal. The musky smell indicated that the bear was close.

The warriors grew alert. The others had also picked up on the stench and nocked their arrows.

Beasts were stronger and more agile than humans. When confronting these animals, humans had to keep their distance, which made bows and spears the preferred weapons.

The warriors moved swiftly, but with extra caution to avoid stepping on tree branches.

A bear was a challenging prey but also a prize worth boasting about. Hunting was a mark of a warrior's achievements. The animals’ hides were made into clothes, their meat consumed as food, and their fat melted to be used as oil. Being skilled in hunting was one of the greatest virtues of a warrior.

“It’s a grizzly bear, Urich,” one of the warriors said in a hushed whisper.

A chill went down their spine. But almost instantly, the tremors were gone, and a cold glint appeared in their eyes.