Boer and Ned

Years passed by once more, swift as ever.

Boer and Ned grew up.

That year.

They were nineteen.

As they grew older, their personalities drifted further and further apart.

At first, Boer's lively, flamboyant nature gave Richie a bit of a headache.

Although his younger son studied under Blair, he was always more interested in having fun.

But after he began helping his father handle the tribe's affairs,

Boer slowly grew more steady and mature.

Ned, on the other hand, had once been quiet and withdrawn.

But his personality also changed dramatically as he grew up.

Then, one day, it was as if something suddenly clicked for Ned.

He began reaching out to people and showed a remarkably warm, approachable side.

He would often laugh and sling an arm around the shoulders of the tribespeople working along the shore, chatting with them about anything and everything, with none of a clan chief's son's airs.

But Ned never stayed in one place with people for long.

He seemed more like someone trying out new ways of life.

Once he got bored, he would move on to the next place, searching for something new and interesting.

The two brothers seemed to pass each other on the road of time.

In the instant they crossed paths, their souls seemed to switch places.

Still, in the eyes of the tribespeople,

despite their very different personalities,

the brothers got along remarkably well.

Richie was relieved to see it.

Though, in his eyes, both boys had their shortcomings,

the thing he had feared most had never come to pass.

There was no sign of greed or cruelty in either of them.

Boer and Ned treated their people with kindness.

Each had earned the people's respect in his own way.

Boer's steadiness and humility made him a favorite of the elders and other senior tribespeople.

Ned's easygoing, carefree nature had also earned him a good reputation among the tribe.

Besides,

Ned was especially popular with some of the tribe's young women.

Of course, that wasn't just because of his personality.

His looks and status mattered more.

Ned had inherited his mother Naen's appearance.

His fine gray-white hair made him as striking as his mother, but he was treated worlds apart from her.

As the clan chief's eldest son and heir to the God-Chosen, no one dared mock him for it.

Instead, his unusual hair color attracted plenty of girls.

When the tribespeople saw so many girls subtly sending Ned woven bracelets and ornaments, they smiled knowingly.

Aging Richie watched his two sons grow up.

He was pleased, yet troubled by conflicting thoughts.

Which of them should take up the torch and lead the tribe onward?

Though the tribespeople all believed that the levelheaded Boer was his favorite and the obvious choice for the next clan chief,

he was still hesitant.

He began to wonder

whether he should give his sons a fair chance to prove themselves.

But just then,

an unexpected incident changed his plans.

Ned got into trouble.

For some reason, he had developed a drinking habit.

He and a group of mischievous young men had reached an understanding and secretly gathered all kinds of wild fruit to brew alcohol.

Then, under the pretense of going hunting, they spent whole days and nights drinking and carousing in the forest.

This went against the rules his father had personally set.

While patrolling the forest, an elder's son spotted Ned lying on the ground.

Perhaps out of jealousy.

Perhaps because of rumors spread by their parents.

He said to his companions with a mocking sneer,

"Look at him, wallowing like this. He's the complete opposite of his younger brother. He doesn't look like Clan Chief Richie's son at all. He looks more like some bastard his mother had with one of those sinners."

Those careless words reached Ned's ears.

No one knew how a drunk Ned, already sprawled on the ground, managed to get back up and block their way.

"Whoever insulted my mother, step forward and apologize. Otherwise, your tongue has no reason to stay in your mouth."

At some point, the drunkenness had vanished from Ned's face.

His gaze, sharp and serious, fixed precisely on the boy in the crowd who was avoiding his eyes.

With everyone watching, the boy stubbornly tried to save face and refused to back down.

At that age, people always valued pride and honor above all else.

So the onlookers began to egg them on.

The boy gritted his teeth and, urged on by the crowd, challenged Ned to a duel.

Ned accepted without hesitation.

He knocked the other boy down with ease.

He was Barlow's student.

Years of surviving in the wilderness had also given him a powerful physique to match his skills.

The frail elder's son was no match for him.

Fueled by alcohol and anger,

Ned showed the boy no mercy after winning.

He really did try to cut out the boy's tongue with a Flint Knife.

In the struggle,

the Flint Knife stabbed the elder's son in the eye.

Seeing this, the people who had been egging them on gradually came to their senses.

If they hadn't rushed in to stop him,

the boy who had spoken so recklessly might have lost more than just one eye.

In the end, the bloodied boy was taken to Huxter for treatment, and his life was saved.

But a broken shard of the Flint Knife remained embedded in his eyeball, where it would stay with him for the rest of his life.

The incident reached Richie's ears.

He learned what had happened from the people there.

"Keep your child in line, Drai. Children learn how to speak from their parents. I don't want to hear words like that again."

In front of everyone,

Richie said this.

The elder named Drai heard the chill in Richie's voice and immediately trembled.

He had been about to angrily demand an explanation for what had happened to his son, but at once he shrank back like a turtle and quietly withdrew.

Only then did Richie turn to Ned.

"Do you have anything else to say?"

Ned looked at his father, seated high above him.

The gaze fixed on him was complex.

Sternness, compassion, relief.

And a trace of disappointment.

Ned merely shook his head,

taking all the blame upon himself.

From brewing alcohol in secret to challenging the boy to a duel, and finally to seriously injuring a tribesman.

After receiving the punishment he deserved, Ned gradually became estranged from the people.

Many of the young women drifted away from him as well.

They all understood that Ned had lost his chance to become clan chief.

But he didn't care.

After that, he simply gave up drinking.

Two years later,

Ned married a girl who still came to see him often.

They lived in a wooden house in a secluded part of the forested mountains.

Ned no longer used alcohol to fill the emptiness and boredom.

When life felt dull, he turned to the insects around the Rot Spirit Flower for amusement.

Just as he had when he was a child.

Ned would go to where the Rot Spirit Flower grew, lie in the grass, and play a rather entertaining game.

He would build a maze out of grass, then put the Rot Spirit Insects inside and trap them in the center.

But no matter what he tried, or how intricate he made the maze,

the rotting insects always seemed to find their way out.

No matter how many times Ned saw it, he found the sight fascinating.

Still, as he watched, even he eventually grew a little tired of it.

He yawned.

He was lying comfortably in the grass, just about to drift off and find some fun in his dreams, when someone suddenly approached from behind.

"Wake up, Ned."

He sleepily cracked one eye open.

When he saw who it was, he closed it again at once.

Boer watched his brother squeeze his eyes shut again, helplessly, then continued,

"Get up, brother. I need to talk to you about something this time."

Ned acted as if he hadn't heard.

Then he rolled over and went back to sleep.

Before long, he was snoring.

Boer shook his head.

He could tell at a glance that his brother was pretending to be asleep so he would leave.

It was always the same.

Back when Boer had pleaded for his brother in front of their father, Ned had been inside, snoring like a saw.

A year ago, when Boer had taken over most of the tribe's affairs from their frail, aging father and gone to talk to his brother, Ned had done the same thing, pretending to be asleep to brush him off.

Boer didn't know when he and his brother had grown distant.

The two who had been inseparable as children were long gone.

Ned still didn't react.

Boer thought for a moment.

In the end, he simply leaned close to Ned's ear and said quietly,

"The Wonder on that mountain is finished. Are you sure you don't want to come see it?"

The snoring stopped abruptly.

Ned's motionless head finally turned a little at those words.