On the third day of the third month after the Zakhira party arrived in Kudaldan, the Shaankhor appeared over the horizon in the southwest. It was not merely a detachment like many other chiefs brought, but their entire tribe.

The Shuva, the primary species of the Shaankhor tribe, were slender bird people with short, slightly curved beaks, dark eyes, and mottled brown plumages. They had wings with three-clawed hands that allowed them to glide very short distances, but they never had the ability to fly since their bodies were too heavy. Still, their chest muscles were well-suited for bows with incredibly heavy draws.

Although the males had slightly larger builds with showy blue, red, and golden plumage, they were few and far between and kept from battle. It was a female-dominated species, and at their top stood their chief, Ivakha the Snowblood.

They rode Hyarula, towering ostrich-like birds with murderous glares and even more murderous curved beaks. When one fought a Shuva rider, one faced two enemies simultaneously. Unlike any other mount on the steppe, they were carnivorous, capable of killing opponents even without a rider.

The Shaankhor's ranks parted, and a massive carriage covered in blue banners drove to the forefront. It was pulled by four especially fierce-looking and richly-ornamented Hyarula. Inside sat the Shaankhor chief, hidden from view behind a veil like an empress on an outing to observe the masses.

The Shaankhor were the wealthiest tribe on the steppe, and they liked to show it. They were the only ones to conduct trade with one of the Omagala Empire's lords while they were still embroiled in their civil war. The wealth and subsequent superior equipment and numbers they amassed over the past decades allowed them to dictate much of the politics on the steppes.

Their tribe set up camp on a hill near the city and sent a contingent of warriors to clear a path to the Jukhmahan for their chief. Her giant carriage could not fit through the narrow pathways, so the tents were taken down and their inhabitants sent away through persuasion or force. The Shaankhor did not make many friends among the other tribes. But those who held real power rarely cared for others' opinions.

Viyal could tell she would not get along with any of the Shuva. The way they rode on their Hyarula, heads held high, looking down their beaks at everybody as below them. It was the attitude of people who viewed status as the most important thing in the world. Chief Ivakha would doubtlessly use hers to take control of the talks in the gathering of chiefs and weave them to her advantage.

The procession of over two hundred warriors, standard-bearers, entertainers, and servants entered Kudaldan with Ivakha the Snowblood traveling at their center. The people of the city gathered to see the spectacle, trying to get a glimpse of the Shaankhor chief's rumored otherworldly appearance.

Viyal watched from the Jukhmahan's entrance alongside the other chiefs. She felt that voluntarily waiting outside the tent for Chief Ivakha's arrival was akin to vassals coming out to greet their ruler. Surely, she was not the only one who thought like this, but they still did it. That was how much weight they afforded the Shaankhor tribe's goodwill.

The procession reached the Jukhmahan and split toward both sides. The warriors surrounded the tent and set up a perimeter for their chief's safety. Finally, the standard bearers and entertainers stood aside to make way for the giant carriage. The guides on both sides turned it around so its side faced the tent entrance before the servants, all members of other species, set up a stepladder.

"Make way for her greatness, Chief Ivakha the Snowblood!" one of the Shuva warriors announced in a commanding tone. Four guards almost floated down their mounts with graceful movements and gestured for the gathered chiefs to stand back. Viyal could tell that everybody endured for the sake of realizing the coalition against the Gadat invasion.

The veil to the door hiding their chief was pulled aside by one of the servants wearing a cloth mask. Beyond was a silk-covered throne upon which sat a Shuva dressed in golden robes and smoking a long pipe. She was an albino with snow-white feathers and blood-red eyes, the reason for her title, the Snowblood. Surrounding her were three colorful males of her harem, perhaps the greatest symbol of her status in the tribe.

Chief Ivakha handed the pipe to one of the men before standing up and throwing off her robes. Underneath it was an ornamental version of her warriors' battle dresses covered in beautiful floral patterns made from golden threads. She climbed down her carriage on slender legs, which sported golden ankle rings. Her long tail feathers stood up straight as an arrow to balance her steps, which were accompanied by the clopping sounds of wood.

Her clawed bird feet clutched handles attached to painted wooden blocks. Unlike her guards, who walked barefoot to be ready for battle, she had something akin to shoes. Yet, it showed that she could discard them readily and defend herself when needed.

Perhaps Viyal had judged her too harshly. Despite initial appearances, she was not some snobbish noble detached from the reality of life on the steppe. Her combat readiness showed she was a chief like any other, even if her entrance was pompous, to say the least.

"Welcome, Chief Ivakha," Amiro stepped forward first and greeted her. She looked up at him with a suspicious gaze from her crimson eyes before they widened in realization.

"Little brat?" she wondered in a surprisingly luscious, deep tone. "Amiro of the Tekhema?"

"How long ago was that? I am the chief of the Zakhira now," he responded proudly.

"You will forever be that cheeky brat who ripped a feather from my tail," Ivakha said with a frown. Viyal blinked at the thought that her father used to be a daring prankster who would do something so disrespectful to the chief of the Shaankhor. "What did you do with it? I hope for your sake that you treasure it even now."

"I gifted it to the girl of my heart. She is now my wife," Amiro declared, not a hint of remorse in his tone. That seemed to take Ivakha aback, but she quickly gathered her wits and closed her eyes in silent acknowledgment. If it was for something as lofty as impressing a girl, she would accept a boy's folly.

"And this girl hiding behind you is a daughter from your union?" the Shuva chief inquired. Her eyes narrowed, and she bent her legs to lower herself to Viyal's level. "First, you take my feather. Now, you rear a child to take my title."

They were fellow albinos, rare existences on the steppe. Viyal was unsure how much of what the chief said was in jest. After all, Snowblood seemed like an amazing title indeed for an albino destined to slay the Girgasatso of the Wastes. And even more so for her true destiny of conquering the world.

"Nonsense. Viyal here will have her own grand title when the time comes." Her father waved off Chief Ivakha's joking accusation without explaining further. "Now, we should not dawdle further. Everybody is growing impatient."

Amiro gestured at the gathered chiefs, who showed no such signs. They knew not to let pride get in the way of good relations, and some seemed to enjoy hearing about the Zakhira chief's childhood escapades. The man who had taken the lead in the gathering of tribes and perhaps in the coalition to come had always appeared as a paragon of Azakhal's virtues. With this little story, the otherwise perfect leader gained some relatability in their eyes.

Chief Ivakha turned to greet the other chiefs after shooting Viyal another glance. Stepping into her place was a queue of younger Shuva in similarly opulent clothes. Although Viyal could hardly tell apart members of their species, she understood they were the chief's daughters.

The oldest was taller than her mother, while the youngest still had downy feathers like a chick. Their sharp, downward gazes showed they were not as amicable as the chief. They came here not to make friends but to accompany their mother and show the might of the Shaankhor tribe. It was the same attitude Viyal displayed when she first arrived here. She had since adjusted her approach after the debacle with Dobro and the Khadarta tribe.

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After the greetings, the chiefs followed Amiro and Ivakha into the Jukhmahan. Their children did the same and quietly took their seats in the stands. Everybody was well-educated to mind their manners at this most important of gatherings.

The first topic of the day was the situation surrounding the encroachment of the Omagala Empire and the growing armies within their lands readying themselves to strike north. New messengers arrived in Kudaldan daily to inform the chiefs of the situation near the border. The latest development was an expeditionary force that built three earthen forts during their foray into the steppe before the raids from nearby tribes drove them back to their lands.

Ivakha the Snowblood sat on a large cushion brought specifically for her and listened silently. Perhaps she had nothing to add since she just arrived, or she already knew everything from her own sources. Whatever the case, she had the presence of an empress, watching her court discuss among themselves.

Viyal paid close attention to her demeanor. Ivakha came from a line of chiefs who ruled over the same people for generations, unlike the Mosyvvi, who rarely inherited their tribes from their parents. She preferred the more familial atmosphere among people who followed a leader they recognized after he showed his mettle. Still, having the bearing of a traditional ruler would garner admiration and support from the masses who did not know her personally.

Soon, the conversation shifted from the news to organizing the tribes for the coalition. Some tribes did not work well with others due to generations-old grudges or simple biological differences. Viyal took mental notes again. As a future conqueror, she would need to learn how to keep her subjects working together happily.

"The Ishtemur will arrive in two days," Amiro brought up this piece of information almost gingerly. He glanced at Chief Ivakha, who frowned at the announcement. "I hope that for the sake of our people, you can put aside your enmity for a little while."

"That will be entirely up to them," the Shuva responded with a disparaging sniff.

"I'll make sure to ask them, too," he said with a wry smile. The other chiefs only shook their heads and sighed.

The rivalry between the Ishtemur and the Shaankhor was legendary. Since the steppe people's oral tradition began, long before even a hint of complex tribal societies had formed, the Selemur and the Shuva had been at each other's throats. Their two species seemed inherently incompatible, fighting whenever they met.

Before the advent of weapons, especially archery, and Hyarul husbandry, even the strongest Shuva could only hope to run from an average Selemur. With similar birth and growth rates, the bird people were hopelessly outmatched in direct confrontations. Yet, they made up for the difference in strength with cooperation and strategy very early on. Aside from the naturally tribal species, the Shuva were the first to band together beyond family units.

Over time, both their species consolidated into a few dozen tribes each, with the largest being the Shaankhor and the Ishtemur. Rumors of Ivakha seeking to gather all the other tribes into a single horde had cropped up over the past few years. Perhaps this coalition against the Omagala Empire would be the cornerstone of such a historic undertaking.

Viyal watched the Snowblood closely; she was a role model she could follow, more so than her father. While she could replicate his oratory skills, the physical prowess that allowed him to lead from the front was something not afforded to the females of their species. Although Aunt Zalavi used to head into battle alongside her husband, that all ended after she gave birth.

Thinking about it now, Viyal's prophecy said she would conquer the world. It could be interpreted in many ways, but it was likely not through marriage. She was not interested in having children either way, although it was questionable how much say she would have in the matter, given this world's level of society.

It would appear that Chief Ivakha had no objections to fighting the Omagala Empire even though their tribe only grew to its current standing because they traded with it. Obviously, she knew the empire's internal situation better than anybody in the Jukhmahan, so perhaps their contract had since been canceled, and she saw no more need to play nice with the Gadat.

As the chiefs moved on to the strategy meeting, all children, besides those already considered adults, had to leave the tent. Viyal followed her brothers, who had yet to have their coming-of-age ceremony, and joined the stream of people walking out into the evening air. The younger children began to chat away, but her ears perked up when she heard whispers about an albino being exchanged behind her.

"That's the rumored one," one of the voices said.

"Skin like ash," added the second.

"So ugly," said another, and several children giggled.

Normally, Viyal would not have paid them any attention, but then she heard one say, "Nothing like mother."

This prompted her to turn around and face the gossipers. They were a group of twelve Shuva, with the tallest roughly at Yunil's height and the shortest looking like a chick, barely reaching up to Viyal's waist. These were not all of Ivakha's children. Her three oldest daughters were of age and attended the strategy meeting. On the other hand, her youngest few remained in the Shaankhor camp outside the city.

"What?" one of the girls in the middle of the pack age-wise asked with what constituted a frown for a Shuva. Her gaze seemed to suggest Viyal better not think about retaliating against their insults. When she saw the young Mosyv's glare, she narrowed her eyes and puffed up her chest. "If you have anything to say, do it now."

"Don't bother with her, Chambai. Her kind only thinks with their muscles," commented one with a chuckle. The girl named Chambai shook her tail feathers and snorted in disdain.

"And what great muscles they are," Noro suddenly stated behind Viyal, flexing his arms with a grin that showed off his sharp teeth.

"All the girls are mad over them," Saro added, posing beside his brother. Viyal stared at them, unsure if they were joking to lighten the mood or did not understand they had been insulted. She hoped for their sake it was the former.

The Shuva were taken aback by the two boys seemingly coming to Viyal's aid. Since Noro and Saro were almost fully grown Mosyvvi, the children would not dare get physical with their little sister. Additionally, a crowd of onlookers formed around them when they sensed something was going down. As the daughters of Ivakha the Snowblood, they could not embarrass themselves.

"Viyal," Yunil pushed past the children and called out to her.

"A Nokkoy!" one of the Shuva exclaimed, her eyes as round as saucers. The others stared at Yunil as if she were an apparition.

"I thought they went extinct!" another added. "Buy it!"

"I'll give you two of our Bavadi slaves for it. No, three!" Chambai stepped up to Viyal and demanded. She narrowed her eyes at the clawed hand in her face. One part of her mused about how a Shuva would show the number four since they only had three fingers. But she took offense at how they talked about her sister as if she were an animal.

"She is my sister," Viyal declared, grabbing her arm and pulling her close.

"A Mosyv considering a Nokkoy her sister," said Chambai, visibly confused. "You keep it not as a pet?"

"Viyal saved me from being eaten," Yunil reciprocated her sister's hug and explained.

"A Mosyv saving someone from being eaten." Chambai grew even more confused.

"Our sister is strange like that," Noro and Saro said in unison, smiling wryly.

"It could be the last Nokkoy out there," one of the younger Shuva said, pulling on Chambai's dress. "I want it!"

"She is a person, and her name is Yunil!" Viyal growled, baring her teeth. The chick stumbled back in terror and hid behind her elder sisters.

"Hmph, I always knew Mosyvvi were base creatures." Chambai snorted in disdain. "A beast befits another as kin."

The next moment, a fist impacted her beak, and she fell onto her backside. Viyal stood tall over the girl and roared, "Apologize now!"

"Phew, sister," Saro grabbed her and pulled her away before she did any more. Noro stepped between them and preempted the other Shuva children's retaliation. "This is going to cause trouble again."

"Mama, this Mosyv hit big sis Chambai!" one of the younger chicks ran back into the Jukhmahan screaming.

"There it is," Noro said, sighing in resignation.

"I did nothing wrong," Viyal insisted, stomping her foot in anger.

"D-do you know what you have done?" Chambai stood back up on unsteady legs. The punch must have really shaken her brain, even though Viyal was anything but physically strong. "Mother will punish you and your entire tribe! You will be enslaved-"

"That's enough." The oldest Shuva in the group broke Chambai's eye contact with Viyal with her wing and stepped between them. She was around Yunil's height, marking her as a child around their age. Yet, her reddish-brown eyes betrayed wisdom beyond her years. Despite being a female, she had one bluish flight feather on each wing, and her mottled plumage had white speckles. She lowered her head and said calmly, "I apologize for my sister. I will speak to Mother and see that there will be no repercussions for this quarrel."

"Altuna!" Chambai tried to push past her sister but received a sharp glare that froze her in place.

"That's a reasonable kid," commented Noro, glancing back at Viyal meaningfully. She stared at Altuna in surprise; she had not expected such a modest one to be among Ivakha's children. Unlike the heirs of smaller tribes, the Shaankhor's ruling family was akin to royalty. It would appear some of its members were better educated on common decency and diplomacy than others.

"Viyal, what have you done this time!" Amiro's voice bellowed from inside the Jukhmahan, causing everybody to flinch.

"Let's run," said Saro. He did not wait for anybody's response before picking up Viyal under his arm and pushing through the circle of onlookers to escape into the maze of tents that was Kudaldan. Yunil followed them hastily but glanced back at Altuna once before disappearing into the crowd.

"He leaves me with the burden of tiding things over, huh?" Noro scratched his mane and sighed.

"I shall help explain the circumstances to your father," Altuna reassured him with a straight-laced expression.

"I see that you are indeed a very reasonable one," he said, grinning broadly.