burned by fire. But at that moment, the scars in the earth did not register in her senses. Instead, her eyes focused on the far horizon—
Beyond the coastline fringed by whitecaps, beyond the promontory jutting into the sea and the port city at its base, beyond the great gray sweep of the sea, shimmering in the haze—
The rising slopes melted into the blue sky. The ridgelines stood out as only a slightly different shade of blue, like the azure shadow of a wall cast against all that vast blue.
Bands of fading purple wrapped around the towering enormity floated beyond the sea.
Faintly silhouetted by the setting sun, that stretched out in great bands across the water. One notch in the ridgeline—that seemed sculpted out of decorative granite—glowed brightly, stretching out to the left and right until finally fading into the midst.
“The Kongou Mountains.”
They were so big.
Shushou felt goosepimples shiver across her skin. In that stunned moment, she let go of the reins. Scrambling for them, she felt Hakuto’s hair standing on end as well, as if ruffled backwards by the wind.
This was the barrier wall around the Yellow Sea. Beyond that huge wall was a land hostile to human habitation. And in the center was the Gozan, the Five Mountains.
I’ve made it, she thought. And those are— Even having grown up at the foot of Mt. Ryou’un, the immensity of these mountains were beyond belief.
Hakuto reached the zenith of his leap and fell in a graceful arc, gradually building up speed. That hazy, blue wall disappeared behind the screen of the nearby hills.
“The Kongou Mountains!” Shushou exclaimed. She buried her face in the fur of Hakuto’s neck. “Let’s go, Hakuto. Those are the Kongou Mountains!”
Hakuto kicked off the ground, accelerating so fast he almost bucked Shushou off his back. He climbed the hills, descended the gentle slope to the provincial road, and shot past the Rinken city gate. Shushou did not pull back on the reins.
Hakuto overran the end of the road, bounded over a knoll thick with shrubs, and there reached the headlands of the promontory. Before them was the blue sea and the silhouette of the Kongou Mountains hovering like a mirage above the far horizon.
Shushou watched as the purple-banded blue faded to indigo. The ridgelines glittered white from the light of the setting sun before dissolving into the sepia dusk. Before she knew it, she had all but lost track of time.
Chapter 8
[1-8] R inken was a port city with a harbor. Ships departed for Ken County once a day. Hakuto couldn’t leap across the broad expanse of the sea. But even a flying kijuu could book passage on a sailing ship, which was certainly a lot easier on the kijuu.
Filling their faded gray sails with the brisk breeze, a ship could cross the Ken Straits in half a day. Leaving port in the morning, it passed the ship returning to Rinken shortly past noon, and slipped into the harbor on the opposite shore around evening.
Shushou spent the time on the deck looking at the mountains. On several occasions youma-like creatures swept through the air above them, but none of them attacked the ship and she didn’t have to retreat to her cabin.
Catching remnants of the joufuu, the ship knifed through the water, leaving a white wake behind. The shadows cast on the deck by the sails shortened, turned toward the east, and lengthened again. Looking beyond the silhouette of the ship returning to the mainland, the Kongou Mountains already filled the entire sky.
A bell rang out when the ship entered the harbor. The sound reverberated across the waves before being swallowed up by the surf.
“Looks like we got here in one piece,” Shushou declared with a triumphant air as she descended the gangplank. From here to Ken would take three days on foot, no more than a day riding Hakuto.
The ship had arrived in the city of North Ken, the gateway to Ken County. Because Ken County was on the frontier, it was not too large and finding
Beyond the coastline fringed by whitecaps, beyond the promontory jutting into the sea and the port city at its base, beyond the great gray sweep of the sea, shimmering in the haze—
The rising slopes melted into the blue sky. The ridgelines stood out as only a slightly different shade of blue, like the azure shadow of a wall cast against all that vast blue.
Bands of fading purple wrapped around the towering enormity floated beyond the sea.
Faintly silhouetted by the setting sun, that stretched out in great bands across the water. One notch in the ridgeline—that seemed sculpted out of decorative granite—glowed brightly, stretching out to the left and right until finally fading into the midst.
“The Kongou Mountains.”
They were so big.
Shushou felt goosepimples shiver across her skin. In that stunned moment, she let go of the reins. Scrambling for them, she felt Hakuto’s hair standing on end as well, as if ruffled backwards by the wind.
This was the barrier wall around the Yellow Sea. Beyond that huge wall was a land hostile to human habitation. And in the center was the Gozan, the Five Mountains.
I’ve made it, she thought. And those are— Even having grown up at the foot of Mt. Ryou’un, the immensity of these mountains were beyond belief.
Hakuto reached the zenith of his leap and fell in a graceful arc, gradually building up speed. That hazy, blue wall disappeared behind the screen of the nearby hills.
“The Kongou Mountains!” Shushou exclaimed. She buried her face in the fur of Hakuto’s neck. “Let’s go, Hakuto. Those are the Kongou Mountains!”
Hakuto kicked off the ground, accelerating so fast he almost bucked Shushou off his back. He climbed the hills, descended the gentle slope to the provincial road, and shot past the Rinken city gate. Shushou did not pull back on the reins.
Hakuto overran the end of the road, bounded over a knoll thick with shrubs, and there reached the headlands of the promontory. Before them was the blue sea and the silhouette of the Kongou Mountains hovering like a mirage above the far horizon.
Shushou watched as the purple-banded blue faded to indigo. The ridgelines glittered white from the light of the setting sun before dissolving into the sepia dusk. Before she knew it, she had all but lost track of time.
Chapter 8
[1-8] R inken was a port city with a harbor. Ships departed for Ken County once a day. Hakuto couldn’t leap across the broad expanse of the sea. But even a flying kijuu could book passage on a sailing ship, which was certainly a lot easier on the kijuu.
Filling their faded gray sails with the brisk breeze, a ship could cross the Ken Straits in half a day. Leaving port in the morning, it passed the ship returning to Rinken shortly past noon, and slipped into the harbor on the opposite shore around evening.
Shushou spent the time on the deck looking at the mountains. On several occasions youma-like creatures swept through the air above them, but none of them attacked the ship and she didn’t have to retreat to her cabin.
Catching remnants of the joufuu, the ship knifed through the water, leaving a white wake behind. The shadows cast on the deck by the sails shortened, turned toward the east, and lengthened again. Looking beyond the silhouette of the ship returning to the mainland, the Kongou Mountains already filled the entire sky.
A bell rang out when the ship entered the harbor. The sound reverberated across the waves before being swallowed up by the surf.
“Looks like we got here in one piece,” Shushou declared with a triumphant air as she descended the gangplank. From here to Ken would take three days on foot, no more than a day riding Hakuto.
The ship had arrived in the city of North Ken, the gateway to Ken County. Because Ken County was on the frontier, it was not too large and finding
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