Saro carried Viyal off to the riverbank of the Avarkhal, where he finally set her down. She showed not a hint of remorse and crossed her arms before her brother, and he sighed in resignation. He cared little for decorum and politics himself, but they were dealing with the Shaankhor. If they did not participate in this coalition, it was doomed from the start. He was willing to put aside his feelings and do what was best for the tribe.
"I always thought you were a creepy little sister," Saro suddenly said, causing Viyal to stare at him in confusion. "You never cried, you're smart beyond your age, and you show interest in things ill befitting a girl."
She raised an eyebrow at the third statement. What constituted interests that girls should not have? The women of the steppe learned to ride, fight with spears, and archery just the same as the men. Even if a Mosyv woman lost most of their martial prowess after they gave birth, they still taught their daughters so they could fight and survive on their own until then.
"You can't hide your unabashed fascination with the politics the chiefs discuss in the Jukhmahan," Saro explained with a grin. "All the Mosyv girls there stare at us men, gauging how fit we are to be the fathers of their children. They only whisper among themselves and giggle while pointing at us. They show not a hint of interest in the debates."
Viyal blinked in surprise. She did not expect her brother to pay such close attention to everybody's behavior, especially hers. It was true that she did not even think about looking for a future partner in the Jukhmahan, although this was perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to choose one for herself. If she did not find somebody among all the gathered sons of chiefs, her parents would probably select a man for her when she came of age.
"You're their exact opposite. You did not speak with the girls your age and not even as much as glanced at the Mosyv boys. Your senses were solely focused on the politics. As if you were studying them," her brother concluded and sat on the grassy slope.
She saw Noro and Saro grow from children into adults. It was strange for her to say since she was born after them, but she retained her mental age from her previous life. They used to be selfish and mischievous boys who gave their tribesmen trouble almost every day. After they grew up, she thought of them as muscle heads with only a mind for training their bodies. And after coming here, they constantly tried to impress the Mosyv girls in the Jukhmahan.
Despite vowing not to underestimate the people of this world, she had continued to do so with her very own elder brothers. Shizuru was used to judging people based on how they acted in public because she thought it was their true selves. After all, she showed only her true self regardless of who she was with and thought everybody was the same. All that despite knowing people put on different faces with different people.
"So, why is this girl so interested in politics unable to hold back from antagonizing the children of other tribes even though the coalition could depend on it?" Saro tilted his head and wondered with a wry smile.
"Don't make it sound like it's my habit! It only happened once before!" Viyal complained, but her brother's expression did not waver. She was twice involved, and it was twice more than any other child in Kudaldan. Although the first time was the other party's fault for letting violence follow verbal insults, this time was different.
"Why did this creepy little sister who is wise beyond her age lose control over such childish insults?" he pursued the matter with a knowing expression.
"Stop calling me creepy..." muttered Viyal, unable to refute her brother's implication. She understood very well why she flared up at Chambai's insults, but she did not want to admit the true reason that Saro could never even imagine.
Shizuru had never felt anything when people insulted her or her family in her past life. She ignored their behavior as the cries of losers envious of the chosen ones. But the truth was that she had simply acted the way her parents expected from her, as someone beyond trifles such as the words of lesser people.
"Because they insulted Yunil," Viyal finally admitted, balling her fists and lowering her head. She had been an only child and had no real friends at school. This was the first time she had somebody she could get angry for; she did not know how to hold back the emotions flaring up inside her when it was for somebody else's sake. "She's my sister, but people keep treating her like an animal."
Saro put his large hand on her head and stroked her hair with a sigh. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed Yunil's tail peeking out from behind a nearby tent. She must have realized they were having a heart-to-heart and had not wanted to disturb them. Surely, she overheard every word with her amazing hearing.
"I've seen a new side to you today, Sister," he said with a broad grin that showed off his sharp teeth. He lifted Viyal into his arms and rubbed his cheek against hers.
"Your beard is itchy!" she complained and struggled, but she could never hope to break out of a male Mosyv's embrace. After a moment, she gave up and reciprocated the hug.
Shizuru's heart ached at the thought that she could not remember if her parents in her previous life had ever embraced her. On the other hand, she could not even begin to count how often her family had done so in this life. No wonder she developed such a strong drive to protect them with all her might.
When Viyal looked over Saro's shoulder, she noticed Yunil coming around the corner of a nearby tent and approaching them gingerly. There was no way she could not keep up with Saro carrying her under his arm, so she must have noticed that they had something to discuss and waited at a distance.
"Come here," Viyal beckoned, extending her arms invitingly. Yunil leaped into her embrace and squeezed her tightly. As the dog girl nuzzled her snout against Viyal's cheek, she considered what she could do to return her love.
She was aware most people in the Zakhira tribe considered her simple-minded and barely more than Viyal's pet, even if they would never say it out loud. Those who did not think so took their time to teach her the reality of her situation once she was old enough to understand. She was quite possibly the last survivor of her species and would have been sold as a slave to be used and discarded. If not for Viyal, who was barely able to speak a word at the time, demanding to buy her, she would likely no longer be alive now.
That was why Yunil did not dare bare her fangs against those who insulted her. She thought it would reflect poorly on Viyal, who was always calm and composed. But today taught her differently. The girl who treated her like her real sister despite being from a different species became angry for her sake. Even though Viyal was half a head shorter and physically weaker than Yunil, she stood up for her against somebody they could not afford to offend.
She recalled Rowen's duel and everything that led up to it. Chief Amiro was strong, but his position meant he could not do everything himself. In such situations, a champion he could trust was of utmost importance. And Rowen's prowess was such that he could deflect all ridicule and hostility, be they directed at himself or his chief.
"Come, let us return to the Jukhmahan. Brother has surely tided things over with Father by now," Saro spoke up after giving the two girls a moment. Viyal grew pale at the thought that her actions could have harsh repercussions. Ivakha seemed friendly with her father, but having her daughter punched in the beak in front of so many onlookers was a different matter.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
They climbed the slope together, but Yunil pulled on Saro's sleeve to slow him down. She waited for Viyal to go ahead before whispering to her brother, "Please teach me how to fight with a spear and ride a Shinoon."
"Oh, are you finally-" he burst out in surprise, but Yunil quickly covered his mouth. She looked back, but Viyal seemed too deep in thought to have heard him. Saro pushed her hand aside and bent down to the Nokkoy, "I see. You don't want Sister to find out."
"The only thing I can be proud of is my body. I want to be strong and fight for her. It's all I can do," Yunil admitted with a frown.
"That's not true. You became the sister she should have had all along. Even if others may not think so, she does. And if you do, too, that's all that matters," Saro declared with a warm smile. He ruffled Yunil's hair and started walking again.
"So, will you teach me?" But the young Nokkoy did not let up and pursued him.
"If that is your request," he responded without turning around. "But expect no mercy from me."
Yunil's face lit up in excitement, and she quickly followed him with her tail swishing left and right.
When they returned to the Jukhmahan, Noro stood outside with Altuna. At one point, Tashi had arrived from the Zakhira camp and joined them, perhaps coming to see where Viyal was after waiting for her return. He spoke to Altuna naturally, showing that the Shaankhor were not as prejudiced about Gadat as the other tribes.
There were no signs of Ivakha's other children, and the onlookers had long dispersed. The guards standing around the entrances meant the chiefs were still inside. Noro and Altuna had indeed managed to clear up the situation with Amiro and the Snowblood.
"There she is, our glorious troublemaker," Noro greeted Viyal with a grin.
"Such a troublesome sister, indeed," Saro agreed with an exaggerated nod. Viyal knew they were teasing her, but she could not muster any resistance since they were right.
"I apologize again for the real troublemakers, my sister Chambai and her clique. They were born into power but did not learn the decorum that should come with it," Altuna lowered her head and spread her wings in an elegant curtsy.
Viyal wondered where she learned said decorum, then. Perhaps it came with age, and those gossipping girls were too young to be taught the gravitas one should have as the child of a great chief. Altuna seemed to notice her questioning gaze and chuckled audibly, although her face did not have the same ability to emote as the more human-looking species of this world.
"All my sisters consider me strange for reading the writings of the Gadat," she admitted, glancing at Tashi. Perhaps that was why they could hit it off. "But our people could learn much from them."
The steppe tribes mostly had oral traditions. The only writing they did was for religious texts of Azakhal, usually in the form of embroidery. Each tribe had its symbolic flag and a banner with a passage from the scriptures. The warriors had protective charms stitched into their padded vests or carved onto their weapons. But that was the extent of the usefulness of the written language for unorganized tribes.
There were no guilds, no education systems, no governments. Without money, there was no need for bookkeeping either. The steppe people never needed to write in their daily lives and passed everything down through word of mouth. Viyal learned reading and writing from her mother but had never needed them in her daily life.
"I agree." She nodded in response to Altuna. "I believe writing played a great part in the Gadat building an empire larger than the entire steppe."
"And in its civil wars," added Tashi with a distant look. Viyal glanced at him but decided not to ask. The monkey boy had not once talked about his past and the circumstances leading to his joining the Chotul tribe as the sole member of his people. And at such a young age at that. He was likely a refugee from the civil war, one who could not return even after it had finally ended. The side he belonged to perhaps no longer existed.
"It would indeed aid in war," Altuna said, not picking up on Tashi's deprecating tone. "A written message will always be more accurate than a spoken one. It could be useful for this coalition where the tribes must coordinate over long distances."
Viyal was surprised by the Shuva's insight. It was obvious to her, but she had memories of a world far more advanced than this one. Surely, it was rare for the steppe people to produce somebody like Altuna, who looked beyond the shackles of tradition and prejudice against the Gadat. She had the wisdom to see the value in something regardless of who created it.
"Please tell me more about it over a meal," Viyal extended a hand toward Altuna and offered. So far, she had only ever observed people who acted within the confines of the tribal mindset. There was ingenuity born from necessity, but she saw no drive to innovate beyond what tradition prescribed.
Yunil furrowed her brow at Viyal for being so friendly with a Shuva, but she would not question her decision. She exchanged a glance with Tashi, who only shrugged. Noro and Saro watched their little sister making a new friend with warm smiles.
Viyal spent much time with Altuna over the next two days. The Shuva girl spoke of many concepts that were familiar to her but unheard of on the steppe. Shizuru had to hold herself back from revealing knowledge from her past life. Once she was in a position of power, she would no longer have to hide it. For now, she was happy to have met someone interested in improving the tribal lifestyle.
In the evening of the second day, an uproar in the streets interrupted their discussion about the benefits of a monetary system. Viyal and Altuna peeked outside questioningly, and Tashi came by to explain, "The Ishtemur have arrived. Well, not quite, but you'll see."
"Where is Yunil?" Viyal wondered, putting his ominous words aside for now. She had scarcely seen the young Nokkoy around over the past two days. Was she jealous that she spent so much time with Altuna?
"She will join us shortly," Tashi said, scratching behind his ear and looking away. Viyal knew he was hiding something or perhaps keeping a secret for Yunil. She did not pursue the matter, knowing that her sister would eventually tell her.
They followed the stream of people toward the Jukhmahan, curious onlookers who heard something interesting would happen. Unlike the Shaankhor's arrival, the chiefs had not received prior notice to welcome the Ishtemur. Viyal thought it strange that their rivals would not demand an equal, if not even more lavish, reception.
When they reached the Jukhmahan and pushed their way past the gathered people, they found a group of six men in lamellar armor worn under dusty capes. Viyal could see brown fur peeking out from underneath their Gadat helmets. But their hunch-backed statures did not resemble Tashi's at all; they were a little shorter than Noro and Saro but more muscular.
One of the strangers turned to look at the surrounding people, and it became clear they were Selemur warriors. This individual's robust snout displayed the features they were best known for: Massive curved canines that extended well beyond their lower jaws. Viyal thought they were perhaps best described as bipedal saber-toothed cats.
"Bring out the Snowblood and the other chiefs," roared their leader, the largest of the pack.
"Be aware that this is the Jukhmahan. Do not cause trouble here," said one of the Shuva guards in front of the tent. She was half a head shorter than the Selemur and likely weighed only a third as much, but her glare was stalwart.
Before the Selemur leader could rebut her, the tent flap was drawn aside, and Amiro emerged with Ivakha and the other chiefs. His expression was severe, consternation mixed with confusion. He had known the Ishtemur would arrive today, but he had expected their entire tribe to make a grand entrance as the Shaankhor did.
"Who are you to call me out so frivolously, cur?" Chief Ivakha demanded to know. She stood slightly taller than the Selemur leader, but only because of the wooden stands she used for shoes. Her white feathers contrasted his dusty cape and unpolished lamellar armor, looking like a fragile flower before a steel-capped boot.
"I am Tadai, sixth son of Chief Khaguran of the Ishtemur," the leader responded in a dangerous growl. "I bring the gathered chiefs this message: You have decided to join with the Shaankhor weaklings, so don't expect the Ishtemur to be part of your coalition."
A murmur ran through the onlookers. Some of the chiefs were shocked by this proclamation, but Amiro maintained a calm exterior. Ivakha glared down her beak at Tadai with her crimson eyes, then looked over her shoulder with an intimidating glower. She would not let the chiefs even entertain the idea that she could be moved to negotiate with the Ishtemur to change their minds.
"Do not misunderstand. The Ishtemur will not join the coalition regardless of what the Shaankhor do now. You have made your choice, and we have made ours," Tadai snarled. He then turned away from the chiefs and departed without another word. His five warriors surrounded him and growled at the onlookers, causing them to shy back and make way.
Viyal finally saw Tadai from up close as he passed by. His muzzle was covered in scars, and his left canine had been replaced with a serrated saber. A metal slide was grafted onto his lower jaw to accommodate the sharp blade. The Gadat armor he wore had seen plenty of battle, and likely so had he.
She noticed his gaze upon her and shuddered under the amber glare of a predator. It was different from a Mosyv, the apex predator of the steppe. This one showed the malice of the strong looking down on the weak not as food but as playthings. She began to understand why the noble, albeit somewhat conceited Shuva held a rivalry with the Selemur.
The moment passed, and he continued walking, parting the gathered like the sea wherever his pack went. They disappeared out of sight, and all eyes turned to the chiefs around Amiro and Ivakha. What would they do now?