A month passed since the Ishtemur envoy's earth-shattering announcement. That one of the greatest tribes, both in size and military might, refused to join was a huge blow to the morale of the attending chiefs. Still, with Amiro and Ivakha's maneuvering, they managed to avoid a dissolution of the coalition before it even began.

Surprisingly, dozens of other tribes entered Kudaldan then, seeking to participate. They had long been forced to pay tribute to the Ishtemur in the name of protection, and their members were taken to become servants to the much more powerful warrior tribe under the pretense of fostering good relations. Unable to fight back lest they faced destruction, they had silently endured until now.

Since the Ishtemur were not part of the coalition, they felt emboldened to take action. It was an opportunity to throw off their yoke and find protection under the Shaankhor, who openly opposed the Ishtemur. Perhaps they hoped to stand as a united front against them after the war against the Gadat.

Viyal could not imagine why her father or any other chief worthy of standing at the top of a large tribe would defer to these bullies. She witnessed him tear apart another Mosyv for engaging in banditry. Was what the Ishtemur did not similar? But even the Shaankhor were willing to cooperate with their rivals in this matter. Perhaps they knew the reality of the Gadat threat and had decided to overlook past grievances for the benefit of all. It was all moot now, though.

With the coalition's future built on such shaky foundations, the tribes continued to gather in Kudaldan, growing the city many times beyond its current size. The already bustling paths between the tents became packed with more and more species from all corners of the steppe.

On the fifth morning of the second month, the rest of the Zakhira tribe, led by Gavro, arrived. Being apart for many months was a normal occurrence on the steppe, so the reunion required no celebrations. The tribe members in Kudaldan came out to greet their friends and family members and helped set up their tents on the outskirts of the city.

Viyal looked forward to seeing her mother and learning how her cousins were doing. It had been almost half a year since she last saw Lavaro and Layavi, but they had grown much in that time. As a boy, Lavaro already overtook Layavi by quite a margin. They could speak full sentences now, although their vocabulary was still limited.

"Big Sis!" the twins yelled and waved at Viyal when they saw her. There was no word for cousin in the steppe language. People of the same generation were all brothers and sisters. Shizuru recalled a theory that language shaped people's perception of things, and she witnessed its effects first-hand. She felt as close to her two young cousins as she did to her brothers.

"Big sister Viyal!" Despite being apart for so long, they recognized her immediately and even recalled her name. After all, she was the only albino Mosyv they knew.

"My, how you have grown!" Viyal hugged them as they jumped into her arms. When she looked down their backs, she could see that their scorpion tails were already fully developed. Mosyvvi were truly amazing beings.

"Father told me you beat up a Shaankhor heir who insulted our tribe. Is that true?" asked Layavi with glittering eyes.

"Maybe he embellished the story a little," Viyal responded with a wry smile and glanced at Gavro as he talked to Amiro. There was a constant flow of messages between them. Her father must have been quite proud of her to be eager enough to tell him the story through a messenger.

"Heh, when I grow up, I'm going to beat up all the bad guys who insult us," the young Mosyv boy declared with his small hand balled into a fist and punched the air.

"That is not what you should be learning from your sister's actions," Zalavi chastised her son as she approached with Nayavi beside her.

"Your mother is right. Violence is not an answer to words, regardless of whether they are true or not," Viyal admitted with a knowing nod. "If you are the first to resort to violence, you show that you have no better argument."

"Oh, my. I see my daughter has grown much in our time apart," Nayavi commented with a warm smile. Viyal could not take credit for saying something she was taught in her previous life and looked aside.

Lavaro and Layavi separated from her, and she walked over to hug her mother. Viyal felt a hand caressing her hair, and all her thoughts were washed away in the warm embrace. This was a child's haven, a refuge from the world's turmoils. At this moment, she was nobody but the daughter of her mother.

"Let me introduce to you my new friends," Viyal had to tear herself away from sinking deeper into bliss and turned to gesture at Tashi and Altuna standing a distance away with Yunil. "This is Tashi from the Chotul tribe."

"The lady's esteemed mother. It is no wonder the daughter is so beautiful when the mother is evidence of nature's artistry herself," he bowed before Nayavi and expressed his admiration.

"My, what a smooth talker," she said, waving her hand in feigned embarrassment. Viyal's face contorted, but she was slow in chastising him. A fist came down on the top of Tashi's lowered head, knocking him into the dirt.

"What are you saying to my wife?" Amiro loomed over the monkey boy, who scrambled back up to his feet but did not dare to retort.

"And this is Altuna, seventh daughter of Ivakha the Snowblood," Viyal ignored Tashi's bit and gestured at the bird girl. She performed an elegant curtsy in response.

"Is this the Shaankhor heir you beat up?" Lavaro asked, looking Altuna up and down suspiciously.

"If it had been me, I would have easily avoided the attack," the Shuva said in a matter-of-fact tone. Her bird features always made it hard to tell her feelings, but Viyal felt a hint of smugness behind those reddish-brown eyes.

"Oh, are you saying I'm too weak to hit you?" she inquired in a dangerous tone.

"Indeed. I have seen your training. You are surprisingly weak for a Mosyv," Altuna did not sense Viyal's irritation and answered truthfully.

"I'll show you weak!" Viyal leaped at the bird girl, but her mother held her back by the collar.

"Where are your brothers?" she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

"They said they are preparing something and will join us shortly. They must know that with your arrival, we can finally hold their coming-of-age ceremony," Amiro answered in Viyal's stead and gestured for everybody to follow him. "Come, let us prepare then."

Everybody turned to leave, but Nayavi and Viyal remained to look at Yunil standing in the back. The young Nokkoy had her gaze lowered and seemed to want to disappear. Despite always being by Viyal's side, Lavaro and Layavi had not recognized her. In their young minds, she was not a part of their family.

"What are you doing?" Nayavi waved her over. "Come here."

Yunil looked up to see her adoptive mother's warm smile, and her expression faltered. She understood that even if the other family members stopped treating her as one of them, Viyal and her mother would never do so. She gingerly walked forward to take Nayavi's extended hand.

They entered the chief's tent, the first to be set up by the tribe, where Nayavi and Zalavi began to rummage through their belongings, looking for something. They opened locked chests Viyal had never seen them touch before, producing trinkets and strips of cloth while discussing their history merrily. They appeared to be objects to be used in the coming-of-age ceremony.

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She watched them curiously, but the twins soon drew her attention away. Lavaro presented a childish spear dance he practiced secretly, and Layavi eagerly showed off her first weaving and embroidery attempts. They were already taking their first steps toward fulfilling their prophecies. Lavaro would become a hero to drive the Gadat out of the steppe for three generations. A hero of the steppe always led from the front, so he needed to at least live up to his father's prowess. Layavi would weave a tapestry that would become the steppe people's flag. She started early, but there was still a long way to go before her artistry could be recognized by all.

"Should we be here?" Tashi whispered to Altuna.

"I don't see why not. They invited us," responded the young Shuva. Viyal overheard them and chuckled. Over the past month, she learned that Altuna lacked the ability to interpret nuance in speech and behavior. She took everything at face value and could only understand metaphors when they were explained to her. Meanwhile, Tashi was surprisingly sensitive despite being an idiot whenever Viyal was involved. They balanced each other out quite well.

"Consider yourselves part of the family. Just like he is," she turned around and whispered to them, then gestured at Rowen, who silently sat in the shadow apart from the family. They were startled to find that he was there; his presence went entirely unnoticed as he had not moved once since they sat down in the tent. He resembled a suit of armor on display.

"They have arrived," came the voice of an attendant from outside the tent.

"Summon the Takheleh," Amiro ordered, and the person on the other side acknowledged it before stepping away. Then he turned back to his wife and her sister, who were off in their own world, speaking of the items strewn across their laps. "Have you found the fitting items?"

"Oh, we cannot choose so quickly for such an important occasion," answered Nayavi.

"There are only so many things to choose from. Get on with it," said Amiro with his brow furrowed.

"This matter requires great care. You don't want your sons to be found lacking in Azakhal's eyes," Nayavi fired back. Amiro could only sigh and shake his head. Viyal smiled at their interaction; some things were the same no matter the world or culture. She knew that one's coming of age was an intimate ceremony only attended by the family and the Takheleh overseeing the proceedings. The trinkets and fine cloth strips were offerings to Azakhal rather than to show off wealth.

The tent flap was suddenly pushed aside, and cool, fresh air rolled in. Not even the Takheleh would dare enter the chief's tent uninvited, so the identity of the shadows against the bright midday sun outside could only belong to Noro and Saro. They stood in the doorway and looked anxious, wearing expressions Viyal had never seen on them before. They stepped inside and greeted everybody like ill-prepared students about to hold a presentation.

"Please meet Savira," Noro said and stepped aside.

"And Vayari," Saro added and did the same. They revealed two Mosyvvi girls who had quietly entered behind them. The female twins had their hair braided back tightly and wore beautiful dark green silken dresses. When they performed curtsies, one could tell their bodies were trained for battle.

"It is an honor to meet Noro and Saro's family," Savira said with a confident smile, showing off her pearly white teeth.

"I thought they were luring us into their camp to kidnap us," Vayari joked with a smug glance at Saro.

Gavro suddenly stood up and bridged the distance to the two girls, who stared up at the towering Mosyv with shocked expressions. But they did not shy back and stood their ground, waiting for him to speak. He scrutinized them from top to bottom, glanced past their shoulders at the scorpion tails standing up in a defensive position, and looked deep into their eyes.

"Good," he declared and patted their shoulders in approval.

"What are you doing, Brother?" Amiro shook his head and pulled on Gavro's tail. Viyal chuckled as her uncle spun around in surprise and made way for his elder brother. "I welcome you into our tent, Savira, Vayari."

It was the steppe people's traditional way of inviting somebody into one's home, but under the circumstances, one could interpret it as him welcoming them into the family. Viyal could not help but think that way, considering who these two girls were. Her brothers had been courting them the moment their tribe arrived two weeks ago. It was a surprise that they were already at the point of introducing them to the family, though.

Marriage was a far quicker and smoother deal in this world than in her previous life. When life was short, one could not waste time on small details. Still, everybody involved required their parents' approval since one had to consider the political implications of a union between the children of chiefs.

"They are the youngest daughters of Chief Zagaro of the Sakhatul tribe," Noro explained as he guided Savira into the midst of the tent.

"Chief Zagaro is old and was never blessed with male children, so he wishes for this union to be not only between us but our tribes," added Saro as he did the same with Vayari. They sat down together and faced the rest of the family with stern expressions. Clearly, they were serious about these girls.

"Leaving that aside, are they who occupy your hearts?" Amiro waved off the political talk and inquired in a firm tone. He did not address anybody in particular; it was a question for all four of them to ponder.

"Yes," they immediately responded in a choir, then looked at each other in pleasant surprise.

Viyal felt her chest fill with warmth at the sight. Twins seemingly sharing a soul was something she had seen plenty in fiction, but the reality was not always so beautiful. In her previous life, there used to be twins in the student council who would argue over every little thing. It got to the point their work was impacted, and Shizuru had to kick them out. Two pairs of twins being of one heart in matters of love could only be considered a miracle.

The rest of her family recognized that fact, too. The twins Amiro and Gavro marrying the twins Nayavi and Zalavi was not nearly as perfect a match as this one. Viyal learned that Zalavi initially despised Gavro while her mother was already deeply in love with his brother. Only after he courted her for nearly a year did she learn to appreciate his good qualities and start to reciprocate his feelings. That was part of the reason they had waited so long to have their first children.

Given that Chief Zagaro seemed to have already approved, all that remained was for the boys to come of age. It was one of the many cultural things Viyal was critical of; the steppe people only cared if the man was an adult. Girls of any age could be married off, although there was at least a law under Azakhal that they had to be of age to consummate the marriage.

And as if it was a sign from Azakhal, today was their coming-of-age ceremony. At this point, nobody had any right to deny their union. It could only be considered a match made in heaven.

"Chief, the Takheleh has arrived," said a voice from outside the tent.

"That was quick," commented Savira and Vayari with dubious looks at Noro and Saro. "Did you bring us here to hold the marriage ceremony right away?"

"Worry not. I am here for the two boys, for they become men today," said the elderly Takheleh as she entered, leaning on her staff heavily. As before, she wore a painted paper mask, although it looked different from the one used during divinations.

The two girls stared at Noro and Saro in surprise, then hugged them tightly. They were delighted to learn that they could get married soon. Then, they remembered where they were and quickly separated from the boys. Everybody watched their interaction warmly; one could easily see that they were deeply in love from the way they looked at each other.

"I see that you have prepared all the offerings. Shall we begin, then?" the Takheleh said, producing a small box from inside the folds of her robes.

"Should we really be here?" Tashi leaned forward and whispered into Viyal's ear.

"I don't see why not," she responded with a shrug. The ceremony was usually held among the family, but they often brought close friends to witness them.

Tashi seemed overwhelmed by the treatment and lowered his head. The Chotul tribe had accepted him as one of their own, but he was still an outsider to their customs. He was moved by the young lady letting him into her family circle so readily. His initial impression of her had not been wrong; she was a radiant figure, and not only because of her albino nature.

"Should we not wait outside?" wondered Savira on the other side of the tent.

"Your parents may have accepted us, but we are still strangers to the family," Vayari added, glancing at the young twins staring at them curiously.

"What are you saying? You are already part of the family," declared Gavro loudly with his arms crossed. Such was his volume that nobody could muster the matching energy to deny him. But nobody would, either way.

Savira and Vayari glanced across the faces of the gathered, then looked up at their lovers. The smiles they received caused them to avert their gazes and cover their reddening cheeks.

"May we begin?" inquired the Takheleh while rattling her box, pulling everybody from the fluffy mood. Her face was hidden by the paper mask, but Viyal believed to glean a smile from the old lady's tone. It seemed that even the esteemed soothsayer of the tribe was not above being swept along by the beauty of young love.

The Takheleh opened the box and took out a pinch of dust from one of the compartments. She scattered it into the fireplace, and the flames crackled. Viyal felt a sense of familiarity from the smoky smell underneath the herbal scent as it spread throughout the tent. But before she could search her memories, the old soothsayer knocked the butt of her staff on the floor and rattled the metal trinkets hanging from it. The ceremony began. "May Azakhal be among us as we witness this moment."