A month after rescuing the Tulana of the Chotul tribe, the procession crossed a hill and beheld their destination: The only permanent settlement of the steppe tribes, Kudaldan. Thousands of tents were nestled at the western bank of the Avarkhal, the largest river on the steppes. Caravans entered the haphazardly arranged town from all sides, but there were no clear roads. It was more of a tribal meeting of unparalleled numbers than a city.

Since the steppe tribes had no agriculture, the mostly temporary inhabitants consisted of traders peddling wares from every corner of the known world and prospective buyers. The population was in constant flux, but the settlement had remained in this one place for centuries without ever seeing permanent structures built.

Amiro chose the nearest open patch on the outskirts of the settlement and led his people toward it. When the caravan leaders nearby saw the Mosyvvi at the front of the party, they fell in line with them. The traders hoped to catch their attention with their wares by setting up camp next to them. They knew that tribes led by Mosyvvi were usually quite wealthy.

The remnants of the Chotul tribe had expressed their desire to join the Zakhira, so they remained with their saviors. They would return with Amiro's party once their business in Kudaldan was done. In their gratitude, they worked hard to help set up the camp, starting with the Zahkira's tents first.

When the chief's tent was finished, Viyal followed her father and brothers inside to prepare for their grand debut in Kudaldan. They were brought freezing cold water drawn from the Avarkhal River and got undressed promptly to wipe off the sweat and dirt from their long journey.

She had no apprehensions at being nude in front of her family since she had grown used to her people's customs. Nudity was quite common among the tribe, not just when bathing. Some would exit their tents butt-naked in the morning to stretch. Others would undress on the spot whenever they crossed a river to catch some fish.

Yunil used a wet cloth to wipe Viyal's back and sniffed her cautiously to find the dirtiest spots. The Nokkoy's breath tickled, and she turned around to bop her nose, "Stop that. It doesn't have to be that thorough."

She did not even try to stay as clean as she was used to in her previous life. Shizuru would not have accepted such a lifestyle before, but she was quick to adapt to her new reality. The steppe did not have water everywhere, so they sometimes went a week or longer without enough to bathe in. It was reserved for cooking and drinking most of the time.

"You still stink," Yunil declared in a pouty tone, and Viyal stared at her button nose.

"Your nose is too good. The people here won't notice," she said with a frown.

"If I can notice it, others will, too," the Nokkoy maintained her position.

"Look, they aren't cleaning up as much." Viyal pointed at her father and brothers, who were wiping themselves dry already.

"Men can have a strong smell," Yunil argued with a snort. Was it normal for her species, or had somebody taught her this?

"Listen to her, sister," Noro said, pulling up his fine wool pants.

"Nobody likes a stinky girl," Saro added, doing the same.

"So it was you two!" Viyal motioned to toss her wet cloth at them, and they ducked with playful laughter. She lowered it again and began to begrudgingly scrub herself more thoroughly.

They were right. They had come to Kudaldan to meet with other tribal chiefs, so they had to present themselves at their absolute best. Amiro put on his finest garb: Green silken robes he would never wear normally. Noro and Saro usually did not care about looking scruffy, but now they even combed their growing mane.

Nayavi had prepared a silken dress with long sleeves and a skirt reaching down to her ankles for Viyal. It was dark purple bordering on black, featuring red and blue bands at the arm joints and elaborate flower embroidery in gold across its entire surface. Although she was far from fully grown, her parents had splurged on this outfit for this occasion. After all, it was her debut before the leaders of powerful tribes. She had to make a lasting impression now to guarantee marriage proposals in the future.

Even Yunil was given a new outfit, although it was made from wool and far less decorated. These days, Viyal's family treated her more as an aide and close friend than their daughter. Perhaps her different appearance after her growth spurt drove home that she was not their own child in the end.

Once they were done, they left the tent and mounted their Shinoona to enter Kudaldan. Amiro rode at the front, followed by a small contingent of his best-dressed warriors guarding Viyal at their center, whose Shinoon was led by Yunil by the reins. She almost felt like a princess being brought to a ball.

The Nokkoy glared at the people looking at them, snarling at those who stared for too long. Although Rowen and his headless mount were the center of attention, Viyal was a close second. An albino Mosyv drew gazes from everybody, especially one so well-dressed. They often did not bother to conceal their gawking, which incensed Yunil.

And then there was one persistent admirer she could not get rid of; Tashi rode behind her and stared with his mouth hanging open all the way. He was so smitten by her well-groomed appearance that the rest of the world did not even enter his view, including the growling Nokkoy glaring daggers at him.

The procession headed for the massive tent in the center of Kudaldan, Jukhmahan. It was the traditional meeting place for the tribal chiefs of the steppes. Although it stood there for decades, perhaps even a century, they still did not consider constructing a permanent building in its place. Instead, it was a patchwork of tapestries mending the damage from weathering and old age. They all showed the names or emblems of their benefactors, their way of immortalizing themselves in this otherwise transient land.

Viyal noticed many foreigners among the traders and buyers alike. She would not dare to imply she had seen all the species the steppe tribes had to offer. Still, their clothes and appearances were different enough for her to tell them apart from her own people. Some came from the Omagala Empire despite the brewing war. Others were species with natural thick fur and towering at heights similar to Amiro.

In her fake prophecy, she was meant to take down the Girgasatso of the Wastes when she turned thirteen. The wastes in question were the White Dunes far north of the steppes. And these large-bodied species hailed from even farther north beyond that desert. They panted with their tongues hanging out due to the milder climate here but still peddled their wares enthusiastically.

Some called out to her directly, but she could not understand what they were saying since they spoke in their native tongue or had barely intelligible accents. Yunil realized they were targeting her sister with their hawking and barked at them like a jealous guard dog.

Soon, they reached the open area around the central tent. Only now could Viyal appreciate its sheer size. It towered over two stories high and could surely seat several hundred people. Over a dozen warriors guarded the four entrances in the cardinal directions. Their groomed appearances and well-maintained clothes marked them as the tribesmen of the chiefs inside.

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Weapons were not allowed in the Jukhmahan, but it was only a formality since most species of the steppe had teeth and claws as effective as any blade. Those not part of the chiefs' families could not enter, so Rowen, Yunil, and the others remained outside.

Finally, Amiro pushed aside the tent flap with his tail and stepped inside. Noro and Saro followed, holding the door open for their little sister. The interior resembled a circus tent, with stepped stands arranged in a circle around an open space in the center. The air was filled with smoke and smelled of many different species.

Viyal curled her nostrils and glanced around at the seated people. A heated debate was going on between a male Rausam and a female Jagul, but Amiro's presence interrupted them. Although he was not the only Mosyv in the tent, all eyes were on his imposing figure. Only now did it become clear that he was an impressive specimen within his species. While Viyal could not tell how tall the Mosyvvi sitting in the twilight beyond the lit circle in the center were, none of their bodies looked as muscular as his. One of them was even rotund, lying on his side and smoking a pipe lazily.

Then she recalled Gavro, who was slightly bulkier than Amiro despite being his younger twin. She inadvertently sniffed, curling up her lips into a prideful smile. As expected, she was a chosen one with a fine pedigree even in this life.

She felt eyes on her and looked over to find countless children sitting in the darkness at the top of the stands. Among them were several Mosyvvi twins, staring at her with unabashed interest. Some were close to her age, while others approached adulthood. She would have to join them, as was the custom here.

"Do not let my presence interrupt you," Amiro declared as he walked into the circle and found himself an empty seat to plop down in unceremoniously. The Rausam and Jagul chiefs stared at him cautiously, but they returned to their argument when he did not speak further.

"We cannot let ourselves be drawn into wars started by raiders and bandits!" roared the Rausam man, making a sweeping gesture at the gathered people before pointing at the Jagul woman.

Viyal listened while climbing the steps of the stand with Noro and Saro. They were not yet fully grown adults, but they would be seated closer to the center while she had to join the other children at the top.

"You dare call us raiders and bandits?!" the Jagul chief flared up. "The Gadat come to the steppe, erect walls to cut up the land, and rip open the soil to plant things only they can eat. We fight a righteous battle against their encroachment!"

"Don't paint your plundering as some just cause and then come crying to us when your victims retaliate!" responded the Rausam chief with a loud snort.

Viyal peered across the children, who seemed more interested in her than the political talk of the adults. Although Amiro likely thought differently, she was not here to make friends but to learn more about the world and the grand future that awaited her. Perhaps a potential political marriage partner was among them, but she cared little about such things right now. Thus, she sat down apart from them and willfully ignored their presence.

"We will not let ourselves be dragged into your just punishment," another chief declared, coming to the Rausam's aid. He was an elderly male Kandai, a species of moose-like humanoids with gigantic antlers resembling open hands. They were decorated with colorful cloth strips and crystals dangling on strings. They knocked into each other and jingled as he stood up while leaning on his sturdy wooden scepter.

He towered over even Amiro by a good head. His eyes looked tired, but there was a fire in them yet. He regarded the Jagul chief with an expression of pity, then turned to the Rausam. "We defend ourselves when attacked, but we will not strike out and draw the flames of war into our lands."

"That is how our people have survived every Gadat incursion," the Rausam said, nodding wisely. The other chiefs mumbled half-hearted agreement, clearly trying to avoid being pulled into the debate. The Jagul chief looked around in disbelief. They would abandon their own to the Gadat to save themselves.

"I came to learn what ills were befalling the steppe, but all I see are shortsighted leaders too afraid to face an enemy poised to take our lands," Amiro said, shaking his head in disapproval. He remained seated, but his voice drew everybody's gazes.

"Who are you to speak so shortly after arrival?" the Kandai inquired calmly. Still, the indignation at being called shortsighted could be gleaned from his words, if not his tone.

"Amiro of the Zakhira," he stood up and introduced himself. Suppressed gasps and murmurs ran through the gathered; they had clearly heard of him. Word of the Zakhira tribe's rapid growth over the past year had spread to every corner of the steppe through the many traders that sought them out. "I have a good picture of the situation from your little spat. But this goes farther than either of you think."

Viyal stared at Amiro's back in skepticism. He was antagonizing everybody with his attitude, which was not a good basis for getting people to follow him. Of course, she did not know his goal, so she could only wait and see if his method was right.

Shizuru had seen recordings of her father debating others in the National Diet. He had been firm but cordial, wore a self-assured smile, and did not offend anybody directly. With that, he had securely anchored himself in the Japanese political landscape, not standing out while holding real power. Now, she would see how her father in this life performed.

"The Gadat were like two Yono locked in a territorial dispute. They had no eyes for the lone hunter taking their quarry," Amiro continued, glancing across the seated people listening curiously. Unlike the Rausam, Jagul, and Kandai chiefs, they seemed unbothered by his earlier jabs at their indecisiveness. "Now, the winning Yono will chase the hunter to his home where his family lives."

The female Jagul realized the meaning of his words and lowered her gaze in shame. Although he had not chastised her directly, it was clear she was the hunter who dared to steal from the Yono. Viyal had never seen one herself, but Yono were extremely territorial wolf-like creatures as tall as Shinoona. Even a Mosyv would not dare to fight one alone. It was an apt metaphor for the Omagala Empire in more ways than one.

Like the mighty Yono locked in a struggle with its own, it had been too distracted to care about the irritating but trivial border raids. But that did not mean it would forgive and forget. Now that the beast was free from its more pressing problems, it could dedicate its full strength to rooting out this thorn in its side. Only if the steppe people banded together like a Yono-slaying party could they hope to survive its retribution.

"You speak wisely for one your age," said the Kandai chief thoughtfully. He sat back down and lowered his head, a tacit endorsement for Amiro to continue speaking. The Rausam and Jagul chiefs did the same, leaving only him standing in the circle.

"In all my life, the Gadat have been at war with themselves. Perhaps in all your lives, too," he glanced at the elderly Kandai, who only nodded knowingly. Even he had never heard of peace in the Omagala Empire for as long as he lived. "But the Gadat built an empire larger than all the lands we count as our own before their internal strife began. Now that they have no more enemies within, their eyes will be on expansion once more."

Viyal saw faces light up with realization all around and furrowed her brow. She had considered this issue when she first heard about the Omagala Empire, but these adults had not connected the dots until somebody spelled it out for them. The level of education in a tribal society was obviously incomparable to modern times. Still, she had expected more awareness than that.

"What do you suggest?" a voice inquired from the stands. The acoustics of the tent and the twilight it was steeped in made it difficult to see who spoke. Amiro looked around, then sighed. It seemed he did not want to say it, but his opinions regarding this matter had evolved from when Viyal was only born.

"A coalition of all the tribes. A first strike so powerful, it will be recounted for generations. The Gadat will never dare encroach upon our lands again," he declared, pumping his fist demonstratively. A murmur ran through the gathered, and some whispered to each other in hushed tones.

Viyal got goosebumps watching her father's stalwart figure amidst the swelling clamor. Several other chiefs stood from their seats to announce their agreement. Cheers flew across the room and were seconded. It had only been a few minutes since Amiro entered the Jukhmahan, and he had already taken control of the entire narrative. She did not know if he had come here with that intention or decided on it spontaneously. Perhaps there was a conqueror in him yet.

Could that tie into her prophecy? Could it be that Amiro would lay the groundwork for an empire, and Viyal would spread it across the world? Perhaps it was not just him but her entire family. Gavro carrying the word of Azakhal farther than ever before. Noro and Saro growing the Zakhira to become the most powerful tribe on the steppe. Her young cousins creating a legacy that would last for generations.

She could not control herself and grinned from ear to ear. As she thought, to compensate for the greatness she missed with her untimely death in her previous life, she had been granted an even grander destiny in this one. Even if her origins here seemed rather humble, the view of her path grew ever clearer.