Escaping the Martagdsan
"Keep an eye on that kitten of yours, or one day that mouth will get him in trouble," Dawa snarls in their direction. "Calling animals wild things," he sneers.
Dawa moves to walk away through the channel entrance.
"And who are you?" Khaliun intervenes, stopping in front of the newcomer.
Dawa mumbles in annoyance, "How many of you people are there?"
Khaliun glances him over before her eyes drop down on the bolor laav. "Where did she go?" She frantically snaps at Khachi, still standing in the young man's way.
"Gone."
"Gone?" She looks at Khachi in puzzlement. "I need that back," she demands from Dawa.
"Let me through, and I might give it back," he snarls.
Okin breathes a laugh before shouting, "And let you walk away with it?!"
Dawa glares back at the child hiding behind Khachi, which only makes Okin conceal himself even more.
"Khaliun," Khachi speaks up, getting the attention of the neme. "She gave me a warning saying you needed to head back to the tribe,"
Khaliun immediately understands what the cadi was trying to hint at. "I have to go," Khaliun panics, turning around to leave.
"Wait! What about us?!" Okin calls after her.
"We came all this way to try to find a way back," Khachi reminds her, but at the same time, he understands why she wants to rush back to Aldsan. "Is there any way now that we are here,"
"I don't think so," Khaliun says.
"Then what was the point of coming here?" Okin whines.
"I'm sorry. Lin Hui and I told you there wouldn't be a way back by returning here," she explains, her voice coated in sympathy.
Her eyes seem to wander between Khachi and Dawa. Her eyes land on the bolor laav for a few breaths of a moment before returning back to Khachi. Her gaze swoops across him and onto the frosty forest and lake beyond. Her thoughts string together a series of unasked questions and answers to ones she'd wanted to know.
"So you brought us here for what?" Okin's voice comes out almost pleading.
The boy's words pull her attention back to him and on to their problem at hand.
"Because it was your wish to. I only did it because Khachi said he wouldn't give up,"
Khachi stares at her, knowing she is right about it all. He wouldn't have given up without coming back for himself.
"What do we do?" Okin asks.
Khaliun looks at both of them apologetically. "There's a city south of here called
"You're leaving us?" Okin yells, interrupting her.
"We'll meet up again. I'll leave the wagon and head back on foot. Just head south. You'll know when you see it. Khachi, can you take Okin to do that?" She tells them before looking at Khachi for confirmation.
Khachi nods, reassuring Khaliun.
"Daraa oolzii," Khaliun says before rushing off and disappearing into the cave's darkness.
"Finally," Dawa, who was forced to stand there and unable to leave, groans and walks into the entrance.
"Hang on a minute!" Okin starts chasing after the monal. "That's not yo-"
"Okin!" Khachi shouts in alarm when Okin crashes into something invisible, blocking his path, and cannot proceed back into the passageway.
"What happened?" Okin weakly asks, rubbing his forehead in pain. He falls to his knees. Khachi lightly squats next to him, concerned.
"That's the Spectral Gates's seal for. No one enters or leaves. Not without this," Dawa explains, holding up the bolor laav.
We can't enter without the bolor laav?
Khachi looks over his shoulder to the lake's center at the faraway Spectral Gates.
The white plum blossoms glisten and gleam under the morning light. The tree's full-blooming plum blossoms sway in the light, chilly wind as if acknowledging Khachi's observation of them.
Then how did I get in?
The two could hear Dawa's dismissive sigh before being swallowed from view. Leaving them alone, caged.
"Khachi, what do we do now?" Okin cries, his voice breaking from sobs that start to develop in his throat, close to overflowing.
Khachi stands up, looking around and trying to understand the situation better. He mulls over Okin's interaction with an invisible force and Dawa's words.
How even the cadi held on to the bolor laav. How she, a witch, who presents with the power and capability to simply disappear at will, did not leave without its assistance. Or how she questioned his being inside the seal.
Most importantly, he himself questions how he came in and whether, if he was able to come in, he could leave.
Khachi starts to suspect Khaliun's intentions in bringing them here. She had to have known the bolor laav was required. Why else did she and Lin Hui have it to begin with? Yet, if she knew it was a necessity, a vital key to accessing where Khachi was found, why bring them empty-handed? Why come all the way after having it stolen from under them?
There had to be some information Khaliun was willing to find out, information that required leaving the tribe in a dire situation. Khachi's arrival and point of location had to have been important.
But I still don't know where I was found in this lake.
Khachi looks over the lake.
Where I was found…
"No one enters or leaves. Not without this."
Dawa's words ring once more in Khachi's mind.
But I didn't have the bolor laav when I arrived…I don't think so, and I didn't have it this time either.
Could she have wanted to see if it wasn't needed?
Khachi's gaze lands on the helpless younger boy. Okin's hands are held up and pressed flat against a transparent wall.
And maybe she left knowing that answer.
Khachi takes a step forward. His foot passes the threshold and into the entrance. Taking another step, his body is fully engulfed by the shadows the passage provides.
"How did…" Okin slowly mouths through tears, looking up at Khachi.
How did I?
Khachi, too, pounders on about how he is able to move back and forth freely and what that means.
But that's not of importance at the moment.
Khachi pulls himself out of his curiosity as their escape is of more significance.
Khachi places himself in front of Okin. "Stand up," he urges him.
Weakly, Okin does as he is told.
Khachi grabs Okin's hand and slowly pulls it toward him, testing the boundary and limit. Sure enough, Okin's hand stops within Khachi's hold, as if unable to move forth.
Not ready to give up, Khachi starts to pull harder, even leaning back with most of his weight. He tries not to hurt Okin in the process, but they both know that no matter what, it will result in Okin's discomfort. As expected, Okin starts fully crying in pain from the attempts.
Another sob leaves Okin's lips, "Go ahead and leave without me,"
Khachi shakes his head 'no'. He places his hands on the side of the young boy's head and leans to hug him.
Full streams come uncontrollably from the boy's eyes. "I'm trapped, aren't I?"
"You're not trapped," Khachi reassures him, pulling back from comforting Okin. "I'm going to try one more time. Okay?"
Okin nods through a sniffle of snot and tears.
"Three, two, one," Khachi counts down, preparing Okin before pulling with more force than before.
When he leans to pull, another hand comes from behind Khachi, grabbing their two joint hands.
As if all their struggle to get through an invisible force was an illusion, Okin effortlessly falls forward into the entrance. Thrown with so much force, Okin crashes into Khachi.
With luck, Khachi catches both of them and prevents them from falling onto the ground.
"You came back!" Okin says in surprise when he sees that the person who came to help was the one who left them without a care in the world about what would happen to them. "
"I didn't do it for you!" Dawa snaps. His arms crossed with the bolor laav in one hand. He looks away from Okin and stares at the wall. "I did it so your ghost wouldn't haunt me. The living version of you is already annoying enough to have met once," he mutters.
"Well, for whatever reason, bayarlalaa," Khachi thanks Dawa before turning to check on Okin's hands and wrists.
Dawa coughs, uncomfortable. "You should leave now if you want to walk out safely," he mutters.
"Are you feeling okay?" Khachi asks Okin, partially ignoring Dawa. Khachi wipes the remaining tears on Okin's face with his sleeve as Okin nods.
"Or not," Dawa says. He rolls his eyes before turning around and walking away.
Both Khachi and Okin watch him disappear for a second time before Okin makes a running trip back to the living quarters for their backpack and Khachi's satchel and follows Dawa out.
When they break through the depths of the cave and down the steep incline of the outer volcano to the sparsely populated steppe that they all knew, Dawa loudly declares, "Never thought I'd miss the deserted landscape and that chilly winds could feel warm compared to that ice prison." Dawa holds his head up toward the sun. The breeze flows across his cheeks, tussling his black hair and the fur of his clothes.
"You were trapped?" Okin seems to concernedly whisper the question.
Simultaneously, Khachi inquires, "How long have you been in Martagdsan?"
Dawa continues unperturbed, ignoring both of the questions asked of him.
Realizing he doesn't want to answer, Khachi heads to where the horse and the wagon are a little bit away from them. The brown stallion grazes undisturbed by any troubles along the line of foliage that meets the mountain forest and the steppes beyond.
Khachi starts loading what little things they have onto the wagon, which consists of the bag Yesui had given Okin to carry and the satchel Khachi had brought along on their original expedition. Neither of which Khachi realizes has food or water left stored in it—two things they haven't had for over twelve-plus hours.
As Khachi finishes collecting the reins to lead and is ready to mount the box seat, Okin grabs the hand Khachi holds the wagon in for climbing support, halting his action.
"Is he going to tag along with us?" Okin asks, looking over at the monal, who now looks to be trying to discreetly hide the action of his attempt to sneak glances in their direction.
"He'll come if he wants," Khachi nonchalantly answers Okin, his attention back on climbing onto the wagon.
Okin climbs onto the back of the wagon, his eyes never leaving the recluse monal. "Do you want to come with us?" Okin calls out to Dawa.
Impassively, Dawa wanders to the wagon without answering and jumps over the edge to climb in.
"I only got on because I, too, happen to be going to Shilan, and while I could walk on foot faster than anything, it's a waste of my energy. Besides, I doubt either of you knows the way," Dawa bitterly explains when he spots the two looking back at him.
Khachi is the first to look away. "Then feel free to let me know when we go off trail," Khachi tells Dawa. He pulls the reins, and without another wait for a reply, they start moving forward.
❄❄❄❄
After nearly a full day of sunlight with Okin blabbing to Khachi to pass the time and eventually being told off by an annoyed Dawa, who also took turns either sleeping or correcting Khachi on directions, the trio continued traveling on open steppe turned to desert sand as evening starts to set upon them.
By now, the constant traveling has slowed the pace of the horse, and the sand blowing off the sand dunes of this world's equivalent of the Gobi desert stings their faces and makes their thirst for water grow even more.
At some point during the ride, they had managed to stumble across a small reservoir and refilled their flasks, which had been empty until then. But even that was just before reaching the desert, and their supplies had dwindled back to nearly nothing, so they sat mostly in silence to avoid thirst or inhaling sand.
Khachi also dug out his green scarf from his satchel and gave it to Okin to help block the blinding wind. Which Okin forced Khachi to use instead since he was driving.
Just as the sky starts to become golden and darken, Khachi notices what appears to be a gradual change in biomes in the distance.
He leans back to look behind him and tell the two about the approaching change but notices Okin has fallen asleep on Dawa's lap, using a small part of Dawa's clothing as a cover. On the other hand, Dawa stays unbothered by the child on his lap, his eyes closed and arms crossed.
Khachi smiles softly and turns to face their route once more.
"Thirty years," Dawa's indifferent voice breaks their long standoff of silence.
Khachi looks back at Dawa, puzzled. Dawa opens his eyes, staring out across the sand dunes.
"That's how long I was trapped in the Spectral Gate's seal," Dawa's eyes seem to glaze over as his mind travels back to the prison of ice.
"That's quite a long time," Khachi sympathizes. "I can see why you wanted to leave so bad."
"It was my own fault," Dawa sighs. His eyes drift down to the child in his lap just as Okin digs his head deeper into the layers of fur.
"Is that why you came back?"
Dawa's eyes meet Khachi's for a brief second before Khachi looks away at the path ahead, leaving Dawa to watch his back profile. "I know what it's like to be trapped not just by a seal but also by a metal cage. Like a wild animal. A wild thing."
The last words catch Khachi's attention.
Wildlife trafficking?
"No one or thing deserves that," Dawa's voice darkens, and his jaw clenches.
Khachi nods, but before either one can continue the somber conversation, Okin starts to stir.
"Mhmmmm, Khachi, I'm so hungry," Okin whines. His hand rubs his stomach in hunger before opening his eyes and realizing his position. Frantically, Okin launches himself off of Dawa's lap. He profusely apologizes while rubbing away any possible slobber he may have on his face.
Around them, the desert has gradually turned back into a dry, grassy steppe landscape. The freezing night temperatures are settling in and competing with the cold of even the Martagdsan.
"We don't have-"
"What's that?!" Okin yells, stopping Khachi in mid-sentence.
Silhouettes form on the horizon, gradually getting more prominent the closer they get.
Large broken house beams and splint wooden fences litter the ground around them. Thick felts create an eerie flapping sound that moves with every blow of the frigid breeze. Those that are ashen from past flames create a different sound as the few intact beams creek under the wind's pressure.
All yurts that have been slashed or burned by force.
"W-what happened here?" Okin stutters.
"Probably an old war-torn village," Dawa, the only one of the three who isn't as phased by their sudden discovery, yawns.
"War!?" Okin turns to look at the man. Hoping this is some kind of joke.
"Well, we are headed south, aren't we?" Dawa lazily points out. "Towards the
"Taoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism, all falling into the mythology of Chinese folklore," Khachi interjects. His body is still facing away and toward what is ahead, but his mind runs with Dawa's words and what they entail.
"Mongolia has those religions and more," Okin says, looking confused between the two.
"This isn't your Mongolia, Kitten," Dawa hisses. "This is the
"And that still explains nothing,"
"You really don't know anything about these Spectral Domains?" Dawa questions in awe.
The Spectral Domains are indeed a creation of human imagination. They were formed from folklore that was initially orally passed down for generations. Each domain is shaped and molded from hundreds of years of human storytelling. They are mostly influenced by religious belief but never in the creation of their deity or deities. That power is but the foil that burns the beings of more supernatural—rather than divine—prowesses into the parallel world.
No domain holds the same limitations as its parallel country counterparts due to the mingling and expansion of humanity. However, they often come to mirror due to self-inflicting factors and their own power struggles. But even that goes so far as their leverage is in favor of humans—leverage, or rather foundation, that no amount of solitude from their severed connection can change.
"So you're insinuating these religions and philosophies shaped myths?" Okin asks, still lost in the explanation.
"Those religions are nothing but part of a catalyst that forms the myths that travel with humans. Influenced by centuries of culture and natural phenomena," Dawa yawns once more before stretching his arms.
"But if you lack the ability to grow because of humans, why fight?"
"You think only the Human Domains have wars? We might be parallels, but even we fight to test our domain limits. Mature a little, Kitten. Learn more about your new home," the monal scolds. "We'll sleep here for the night," Dawa declares as an almost fully intact yurt passes them on their right.
"How's that safe?" Okin's eyes nearly fall out at Dawa's declaration. His eyes worriedly looking over the old semi-burnt but still standing yurt.
Khachi pulls the reins, stopping the horse and wagon. He, too, looks over their sanctuary for the night.
"I never said this was caused by a war between Mongol Tartar and Zhōngguó Shénhuà Domains," Dawa scoffs before carelessly jumping over the wagon edge and leisurely walking towards the yurt.
"Well, sleep here for the night. We need it," Khachi assures Okin. He looks at the boy with a tired smile before climbing off the box seat.
"More like you need it," Okin mumbles.