sakanawotaberu

[paintedscales]

010. Malqir

Stopped on their way back to the Sagahl Iloh thanks to the enthusiasm of Bayarmaa and Barghujin both, Nomin is introduced to the tribe and customs of the Malqir. During her time there, she gets to see a lot of what the Malqir practice with great importance to their tribe. The game is fascinating, sure! But then there are some other aspects that arise that give Nomin pause. From there, a needed pep talk is given.

Word Count: 4,496

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

It was only a day’s travel from the Sagahl Iloh when the van made its next stop due to making good time in their travel. The idea was less of Esenaij’s, and more of both Bayarmaa and Barghujin’s -- both who seemed excitable enough. What inspired the idea of stopping was the fact that there was a new site that had been erected in the time that they had been away till now. The colors that the ger and members bore made Nomin think of the Oronir momentarily before she realized the shade of yellow seemed darker -- leaning more toward an earthy orange.

More striking about the site, however, were the array of decorations that made up the site of the iloh they took a pause at. Khiimori flags were strung up -- something that Nomin thought were only reserved for things like burials or proving grounds like Bardam's Mettle.

“What tribe is that one?” Nomin asked, leaning over the railing of the wain, arms draped over the side as she looked over. The smells as they neared the iloh were delicious, and Nomin’s mouth watered almost painfully as she took in the scents. Whatever tribe it was, they must have been cooking up a veritable storm if the smells were so apparent even a good several yalms away still.

“That’s the Malqir,” Keuken replied. He pointed out the bonfire and the members who danced around it. “It’s not really our place, though if this is the place the Malqir have chosen for their new site, then they should be preparing for their annual kharaqiq tournaments. Certainly smells like it.”

Nomin’s face scrunched in confusion, and she straightened up. She looked over in Keuken’s direction. “What’s ‘kharaqiq’?”

“It’s kind of like shatar. Have you ever played that one?” Bayarmaa asked, hopping off the wain.

“Only the adults in the Tumet really ever played,” Nomin replied, thinking back on what she remembered of shatar. The rules were a bit too complex for her at the time, but she remembered liking the pieces and how they were carved in the shapes of khans or animals, painted in glossy black or white.

“Well, it’s kind of like that, except that the board is separated into three rings, biggest to smallest moving inward. The goal of the game is to capture all three territories -- the rings -- or if you can’t do that before the time is up, capture at least two,” Bayarmaa explained. “The game is a little above my level of understanding, but it's definitely the festival that we should at least see if we can partake in!”

“You know we have nothing to offer, right?” Esenaij asked, a sense of exasperation strained within his voice. “You certainly can't expect us to be able to walk right in with nothing we can give.”

“I bet life would be a lot easier for you if you weren't always stifled by your trader's brain!” Bayarmaa huffed, balling her hands into fists and placing them on her hips as she looked up at Esenaij. She puffed out her cheeks, and Esenaij only looked down at Bayarmaa with a look of mild annoyance as her tail flicked with irritation behind her.

“It would do you good to learn to have something to exchange just in case you can’t always rely on the good will of others,” Esenaij shot back.

Barghujin leaned on the outside of the wain next to Nomin, a small smirk tugging at their lips. They whispered to Nomin, “we should get started on our way over. The Malqir are usually pretty amicable toward spectators of their tournaments. Helps shake their nerves out, especially if they aspire to be chosen as khan or khatun. Besides, I bet Esenaij and Bayarmaa will keep up their squabbling until they see us leaving without them.”

The clear jest made Nomin giggle, and Barghujin grinned as they stood back up and held their hands out. Instead of hopping out of the back of the wain like usual, Nomin crawled over the side of the wain and leaped into Barghujin’s arms. With a swift and powerful swing, Barghujin brought Nomin to ride upon their shoulders as they started on their way toward the Malqir Iloh.

Briefly, Nomin and Barghujin were halted by some of the Malqir guardsmen. Much like their time with the Dotharl, they, as Sagahl, were permitted entry into the iloh grounds. Not long after them, Keuken and Daritai came along, and then both Bayarmaa and Esenaij. It was as Barghujin said when it came to the two of them: once they saw everyone else leaving without them, they were quick to wrap up their minor argument.

Looking at everything from her perch atop Barghujin’s shoulders made a smile spread wide across Nomin’s face as she gazed around at everything, and took in all the different things. The dancers around the bonfire, the musicians playing the morin khuur or engaging in khoomei to vocalize alongside the strings, the various smells of frying meats and bread, and most notably, the tables that were set up with neat rows of a checkerboard game divided into those aforementioned three rings, and even other tribe members that were enjoying visiting. Everything there was relatively new and exciting for Nomin.

“Do you have friends in the Malqir?” Nomin asked Barghujin, leaning forward and looking down at them. “It feels like the Sagahl have so many friends!”

Barghujin’s shoulders rumbled with gentle laughter, and they reaffirmed their hold on Nomin’s legs so she did not fall from them. “I have a couple. I don't know if they'll be participating in this year's kharaqiq tournament, though. None of them felt too particularly interested in claiming the title of leadership.”

“But they play?”

“Everyone in the Malqir is taught to play,” Barghujin started. “It's their way of life as a more pacifist tribe like us. They're great at things that involve planning ahead and strategic measures.”

“What we learn is also good for keeping track of our supplies and resources so that we know when to prepare or trade for more. When to hunt and gather to restock for the seasons as they come and go. Not to mention planning for proper migratory routes and avoiding unwanted trouble,” came a new voice. Barghujin turned with a grin while Nomin looked inquisitively in the new person's direction. She was just a little shorter than Barghujin, and her horns curved forward. Her deel draped loosely around her, and her hair was pulled back into braids.

“Sanchir!” Barghujin greeted her happily as they approached the Malqir tribesperson. “Long time no see! Missed you at the Naadam.”

“The current khan decided it best to keep moving through the time of the Naadam until we ended up here,” Sanchir said in response, a small shrug accompanying their words. Sanchir’s attention then went up to Nomin, who stared back at her inquisitively. “Though it seems to me you’ve been busy playing caretaker, Barghujin. Who is this little one? I daresay I don’t recognize this one from the Sagahl, though she bears your colors.”

Barghujin pat Nomin’s leg twice lightly and introduced her: “this is Nomin! She’s new to our tribe.”

Sanchir took a moment to consider this, a hand going to her chin. After a few seconds, her brow went up with the realization. She then looked up at Nomin with a small smile. “Ah…the timing seems right. A former child of the Tumet, then?”

Nomin nodded with a small ‘mhm…’ and her expression fell only slightly. She then re-composed herself and pointed in both Esenaij and Bayarmaa’s direction; “Esenaij and Bayarmaa are my new family! Esenaij brought me back from Reunion.”

“... Interesting…” Sanchir commented, her eyes flicking back and settling on the Sagahli siblings. She gave her attention back to Nomin. “Is this your first time getting to attend the Malqir's kharaqiq tournament? Outsiders aren't allowed to compete, of course, but you are allowed to at least watch and join in the festivities.”

Nodding, Nomin gave another ‘mhm’ in response to Sanchir. Barghujin then reached up and leaned down, getting Nomin settled back onto the ground. With her little tail wiggling inquisitively behind her, Nomin stayed close and looked around once more. She then looked at Sanchir and asked, “do you fry up boortsog for the festival?”

Daritai walked forward, placing his hand on Nomin’s head and ruffling her hair. He and Nomin had forged more of a friendship since he started teaching her how to hold and maintain a bow during their downtime. Since, he had become much more of an elder-sibling figure like Esenaij and Bayarmaa.

“Has food been the only thing on your mind since we’ve been here?” Daritai asked. It was not often that Nomin got to see him express amusement, but the smile that tugged at his lips was unmistakable. “Although, I guess we could use something to eat. Can't really sustain ourselves off of the desert's blessings and our dwindling rations alone.”

Approaching Nomin, Sanchir leaned down so that they were both at eye level. She smiled gently and then motioned toward the rest of the Iloh.

“I have a little brother that should be closer to the kharaqiq tables beyond the bonfire. He’s about your age, you might be able to find him and have him show you around if you’re interested,” Sanchir suggested. She then lowered her tone in a friendly manner, “he could also show you where the buffet is so you can sate your hunger.”

At that, Nomin’s tail flicked up.

The involuntary action did not go missed by Sanchir, either. She rose to her full height and drew her hands together as she gave a soft, amused chuckle.

“My little brother’s name is Arasen. He’s a good couple of ilms taller than you, and his eyes are striking. I don’t think you’ll be able to miss him. If you’re uncertain, his limbal rings glow brightly with a near-white color from yellow,” Sanchir explained. “Think you'd be up for finding him? Just tell him I asked you to find him.”

“Okay!” Nomin affirmed with a grin. She turned to start on her way as it seemed the Sagahl were wanting to catch up with Sanchir in some capacity. It was clear that they were well acquainted with one another, and as the Sagahl informed Sanchir of their travel out to the Dotharl Khaa to gift a boon for their win in the Naadam, Nomin found herself paying more attention to everything else. 

Wandering further away from the older Sagahl and Sanchir, Nomin ventured into where more of the festivities were taking place. Her inquisitive expression gave way into bright excitement as she explored. When she neared the dancers around the bonfire, Nomin noted the woven structures that surrounded it in multitudes. Sticks and dried reeds were woven together to create shapes akin to creatures of the Steppe; tigers, horses, camels…

It then struck Nomin that each of the structures were reminiscent of the shatar pieces she had seen prior during her time with the Tumet. The realization made Nomin consider briefly just how important this game was to their way of life.

… If only she had been born to a tribe that valued games and gameplay. Perhaps that would have been fun!

A dancer maneuvered around Nomin, a giggle heard as they passed. Nomin looked after them, brought back to the fact that there were people celebrating and having fun. She started walking again, her gait quick as she looked for this Arasen boy, or the mentioned buffet. Whichever came first.

Nomin was certainly more keen on following her nose rather than going toward the rows of tables set up with the circular game boards. She noted the people that sat at the tables, their knees or rears nestled upon the cushions. Everyone looked a mix of either focused, self-assured, or gleeful. The sight was almost akin to what Nomin recalled of the warriors in the Tumet before they prepared for battle…

The growl in her stomach reminded Nomin to return to following her nose. Picking up the pace, she eventually saw some groups of people shuffling around a canopy that covered members of the Malqir that stewed, grilled, steamed, and fried foods. That was the place Nomin soon found herself jogging toward. It seemed she had no need to seek out Arasen after all!

Meandering and weaving through people, Nomin eventually met her goal: the Malqir cooks who were frying things like khuushur and boortsog. Her tail wiggled excitedly and impatiently behind her as she ran forward to eagerly ask for some. In addition to her little plate of boortsog, Nomin was given a small bowl of urum, and a small bowl of jam. Happily, she thanked the Malqir who fried the treats up for her, and she returned to wandering until she could sit close to those who were entrenched in playing kharaqiq between one another at the boards that were set out.

Idly, Nomin munched on the fried bread bits, crumbs falling on her deel and into her plate. She watched how others were playing kharaqiq, hoping to glean some kind of understanding of the game from those closest to her. As time went on, and both her boortsog and pairings eventually disappeared, Nomin was no closer to understanding the game than when she was first told how the game kind of worked.

“Obsidian is set to capture ivory's territories in just two more moves there. So long as obsidian doesn't get blocked into the silver ring to standstill,” a boy spoke. His voice startled Nomin into flipping her empty plate and bowls onto the ground with a small clatter. She left her seat, gathering up the mess of dishes before she furrowed her brow at this boy.

He looked a little sheepish before he took in Nomin's appearance fully. He kind of gave a ‘hmph’ at her, his eyes flicking between her face and her horns. It seemed he took better notice of the discoloration on her scales.

Crinkling her nose with some annoyance, Nomin was about to take a seat back where she was before she noted his eyes. She had almost forgotten what Sanchir said, and this boy seemed to fit the description she was given earlier.

“Are you Arasen?” Nomin asked.

“Huh?” The boy was taken aback by the question as he looked at Nomin with surprise. His near-white limbal rings were that much more prominent as a result. “Yeah, that's me. But who in the hells are you? No one from the Sagahl I know, that's for sure.”

Nomin rolled her eyes at Arasen's tone. She knew it well enough from her time with the Tumet. The tone of someone who thought of themselves too good to have been in the presence of someone not as blessed by Nhaama. However, she introduced herself and explained that she and the Sagahl were passing through, saving the fact that Sanchir told her to seek him out later for last.

“... Well, it seems evident that you didn't really do that last part…” Arasen replied. He still had a bit of a tone to his voice that indicated displeasure, but it was less obvious.

“Sanchir said you could show me where the buffet was, but since I already found where all the food was being prepared, yeah… I guess I didn't really want to burden you with the responsibility of having to hang out with me if I found everything I wanted,” Nomin replied. She used words she was used to hearing from the Tumet when it came to her. Especially since the disposition felt similar.

Arasen bit his tongue, his lips twitching back in a deepened frown. “My sister will be upset if she doesn't find us together, I imagine. Clearly she trusts me to watch over you.”

Nomin pursed her lips out in an exaggerated pout.

“I'm not a little child,” Nomin protested.

“Little enough! Your horns and tail haven't even fully developed yet!” Arasen steeled his stance on the matter. It seemed to Nomin that he must have valued his sister’s trust enough to tolerate this interaction that clearly was not to his taste.

Nomin sighed, turning her attention back toward the closest kharaqiq players. She then pointed at them -- rather, their board. She hesitated, but then finally asked, “can you tell me about kharaqiq at least? Bayarmaa told me it was like shatar, but…where I'm from, only those with a name play such games.”

For a moment, Arasen's face twisted into confusion over the tail end of Nomin's words.

“... I'm not even going to ask what that means…” Arasen muttered before shifting his attention toward the kharaqiq board. He stifled a sigh and then explained the rings and what they represented. Gold, silver, copper -- sometimes they would instead be represented by polished stone, ivory, or wood of differing colors. “Each of the rings is a territory. You and your opponent start with your territories, and the pieces do kind of move just like shatar pieces with some minor differences. The point is to capture as many of your opponent’s pieces while also working to capture the open territory -- ring, in this case.”

Pointing at the sand timer next to the players, Arasen directed Nomin’s attention toward it.

“Players have a quarter of a bell to finish the game. At least in tournaments like these ones,” Arasen continued. “If you're aware of the pieces and how they move, then it's a battle of wit and endurance with opponents that are just as familiar. But, if you're inexperienced -- like you are -- you'd probably lose in five moves or less.”

Nomin huffed, not exactly appreciating the insinuation. Even if Arasen was most likely correct in his statement.

The more that Arasen explained the game, however, the more that his words fell on deaf horns. He seemed to grow evermore elated as he talked about movement of pieces and the importance of them. For Nomin, however, the longer he spoke, the more all that information muddied together. It was becoming too much to really remember, thus she started to tune him out.

Watching the players, however, Nomin got a little bit of the gist. Ultimately, she became simply taken with just watching them and seeing the game progress.

Black won by the time the timer ran out, their pieces occupying two of the rings. The player controlling the obsidian pieces smiled to themselves before offering a polite bow to their opponent. Surprisingly to Nomin, both players were incredibly amicable toward one another. She would not have been too happy in defeat, at least that was what she thought to herself.

“What an exciting game that was!”

Oh. Right. Arasen was still there.

Looking over, Nomin pursed her lips slightly.

“How long is this tournament going on today?” Nomin asked.

“The first half has already ended,” Arasen replied. “We're in the second half. What you saw there should have been the third or fourth game since. Over the next couple of bells, there's probably going to be another dozen or so games. Since this is day one, everyone interested gets to play, and moving on to tomorrow's games comes down to how many matches you win.”

“Hm…” Nomin took a moment to think. She then looked at the now empty seats at the kharaqiq board they had been watching. “So then the person who lost during the match we just watched still has an opportunity to advance to the next round?”

“That's correct,” Arasen confirmed. He then shifted into a standing position, placing his hands on his hips. “Tomorrow's rules also change, but only slightly. Instead of having a bunch of matches throughout the day, tomorrow, everyone is only going to have three matches that more quickly narrows down the numbers. Today is more about fun and seeing if you qualify.”

“That's…pretty neat, actually,” Nomin admitted. She thought more about the culture that centered around playing a particular type of game. She supposed it made sense that there would be opportunities to face everyone and even learn something new from the other members of the tribe. The knowledge also made the amicable exchange at the end of the game much more respectable.

“Do you want to try playing a game?”

The question caught Nomin off guard. Looking in Arasen's direction, Nomin’s face scrunched up with contemplation to the idea. Would it have even been fair to have played a game she clearly had no experience in against someone who already had the clear upper hand?

“I don't know…” Nomin finally said after a moment. “I feel like…I'd lose right away.”

“I can go easy on you.”

Nomin's frown creased. She then shook her head in response. “I think I'm fine watching other people play for now. Thanks, though.”

“Alright,” Arasen did not sound too dejected by the rejection. “It's not good of us to force a game if the prospective opponent doesn't want to play. So…if you don't want to play, there's nothing I can do about that.”

It was a surprisingly mature response from someone whose first impression of Nomin was that of disdain. At least as far as Nomin knew and recognized.

In short time, however, Arasen offered to lead Nomin back to the food canopies -- if only to return the dishes she was granted use of. When they got back, Nomin was more than willing to go ahead and try more foods before she and Arasen eventually met back up with the other members of the Sagahl, and Arasen's elder sister, Sanchir. Nomin’s mouth had run with a sheen from the meats she had been eating alongside some mantuu, and she quickly ran the back of her sleeve along the bottom of her face to remove any of it.

“Have fun?” Bayarmaa asked, as the two approached. She offered a small smile, assuming that Nomin had been able to make yet another friend.

“I think the game is neat to watch. Arasen explained the game to me,” Nomin replied as she jogged up to meet with Bayarmaa and the others proper. She noticed that they were largely eating bread with jam, and stewed vegetables.

“Oh? How did that go?” Bayarmaa sipped some of the broth in her bowl after she asked her question.

Nomin shrugged in response; she had no strong feelings one way or another. Plus…she did not actually catch everything Arasen actually said. So, with that in mind, she replied, “I think I kind of get how the pieces move and how you're supposed to get the pieces in the rings. But I don't think I could play kharaqiq and have fun…”

Sanchir lifted a hand to her mouth, a rather amused laugh falling from her lips as her tail flicked upward a couple times. Nomin felt her cheeks prickle and warm, a slightly fluster arising in her.

“My apologies… That just seems to be a common sentiment shared among others outside our tribe. At least…I've heard it more times than not,” Sanchir said, explaining herself. “Of course, to us the game doesn't seem so difficult. I also believe anyone could still learn it. That said, would you mind a kharaqiq board of your own to bring back with you? I can get you some instructions written so you can read how to play back with your tribe.”

Nomin hummed in thought, eyes flicking in both Bayarmaa and then Esenaij’s directions before her attention went back toward Sanchir. It was as if she were asking permission to accept such a gift.

“It would do us well to have something that could help teach Nomin some more logical thinking and planning,” Esenaij spoke up, taking a hearty bite of the gambir he had topped with stewed popotoes. Bayarmaa seemed to share this sentiment as she nodded in agreement.

“We would be awful teachers when it comes to your game, but if you're providing instructors, we'll be glad to go over them and learn together!” Bayarmaa seemed more elated by the idea of getting to learn kharaqiq for herself. Her tail swayed to and fro as she rocked from side to side.

Nomin glanced between Esenaij and Bayarmaa, a smile spreading over her face as her eyes sparkled with the thought of being able to play more games with them outside of uichuur or khorol. She then looked up at Sanchir, who seemed to have grown a sheepish expression at both Bayarmaa and Esenaij's responses. When Sanchir finally looked back toward Nomin, she smiled with a soft sigh.

“Well then…I invite you to enjoy the festivities for the rest of your duration,” Sanchir started in response. “I'll spend the eve getting you your own kharaqiq set and instructions to go with it.”

With a polite bow, Sanchir left for presumably her family’s ger, Arasen giving a quick bow and a small word of ‘goodbye’ before swiftly following along after her. When they were out of hearing distance, Bayarmaa then giggled and looked at Nomin.

“You've been making so many friends since we've been on our journey!” Bayarmaa pointed out. “What's this young boy like? I didn't get to meet him too well like getting to talk with Arik or Holuikhan.”

Nomin briefly looked in the direction that Sanchir and Arasen disappeared off in, and then looked back at Bayarmaa. Her expression faltered and went back to a more neutral, straight-faced look as she shrugged.

“I don't really know if I'd call Arasen a friend like I would the other two…” Nomin replied truthfully. This caused Bayarmaa’s own expression to fall slightly.

“Well…I suppose we can't be friends with everyone. He didn't say anything mean to you, did he?” Bayarmaa inquired.

Nomin shook her head. Then she shrugged as she considered their interactions in the brief time they spent with one another.

“... I didn't like the way he spoke to me.” Nomin stated her overall thought plainly and flatly. She then looked back at Bayarmaa and walked over to sit next on a bench close to her. “…I guess… Don't you ever notice when people talk to you like they don't actually like you?”

Bayarmaa sat down next to Nomin.

“I notice…” Bayarmaa’s expression turned a bit sad. Though, she sighed and brought a pleasant look back to her face. “But…a lot of the time, I remembered the friends that do like me, and I found comfort in that. Because not everyone is going to like you. I don't think we'd have as many fights on the Steppe, or rivalries if we all got along…”

Bayarmaa reached over and pet Nomin’s head affectionately.

“But…it's okay to feel hurt by this fact, too…” Bayarmaa went on to say. “Just do your best to pick yourself back up and move forward. I'll help you where I can if you want me to.”

A smile slowly appeared on Nomin’s lips and she leaned against Bayarmaa’s arm.

“... Thanks, Bayarmaa,” Nomin replied. “That makes me feel better already.”

[paintedscales]

009. Dataq

A storm brews over the Retreat, and there are worries on where to take refuge for the night as the Sagahli van finds themselves a little stranded out on the desert sands. Thanks to a keen eye, however, they do not have to travel far to find allies that are willing to take them in for the night.

Word Count: 5,135

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

Time among the Dotharl was much more palatable once Nomin was able to meet again with Arik. The two of them had sat together for their meals while other Dotharl were more than happy to give shows of strength in their celebrations that night. Whether it be through a contest of bökh, or even trading punches and kicks with one another, the Dotharl were more than happy to celebrate with raucous cheer and merriment in their own way. With their win in the Naadam, and even the year's khagan having his babe’s soul revealed, there were many reasons for the tribe to revel.

Of course, time spent with her new friend was short lived as Nomin suspected it would have been. Once the dawn of morning shed its light upon the golden sands of Nhaama’s Retreat, Esenaij had already been awake and took care of the wain and that upon it. Barghujin, Keuken, and Daritai were no slouches, either, as they ensured that their waterskins and extras were refilled with the elder's blessing. Everything went smoothly for them.

Nomin was wracked with disappointment as she trudged from the ger she and Bayarmaa were housed in for the night. A frown was set upon her lips. She hated waking so early, but more than that, she hated the idea that she would not have been allowed the chance to say a proper goodbye to Arik before they were well on their way back to the Sagahl Iloh. They were to go back before the Sagahl’s migration, which seemed to make Esenaij firm in his want to hurry along. Unfortunately for Nomin, the others that were part of the van agreed to this -- even Bayarmaa, much as she seemed to sympathize with Nomin.

“You'll get another chance to see your friend again, I'm sure,” Bayarmaa said, doing what she could to console the clearly upset Nomin. It was evident by Nomin’s silence and unwillingness to converse that she was saddened by the notion of not getting to have just a few more bells in the morning in order to have that moment of farewell.

In fact, Nomin even committed to bundling herself up and going back to sleep in the bed of the wain for a good portion of the rest of the morning. Her dreams were of little comfort, however. Within the scape of the dream she had, Nomin was brought back to her trek toward Reunion after her Tumeti trial.

The ropes slung over Nomin's shoulders felt heavy, as if they weighed her down more and more with each step she took. They snaked around her as if they intended to tie her back to the trunk of another dawn pine. Not only that, the visage of Reunion itself felt like it was not getting any closer.

No…it instead felt as if the settlement were growing more distant.

It was frustrating. Just as Nomin thought she was making progress in getting to Reunion, the lands shifted and stretched. Nomin only walked and walked, never reaching her destination, and only growing more frustrated as the ropes weighed heavy and even began to asphyxiate her.

Then the world shook as Nomin struggled and fought her binds. The land was suddenly bathed in darkness before the loud crack of thunder made her open her eyes in a start. She sat up in the wain, bringing her knuckles to her eyes to rub at them momentarily as she regained her bearings. When she looked around, she saw how the sky was blanketed in dark clouds that obscured the sun and shrouded the land with a heavy shadow of gray.

“Rain in the Retreat, huh… What rotten luck that it would appear now to hinder us,” Nomin overheard Daritai mention as she crawled over to one side of the wain. She blinked away the bleariness from her eyes and scanned the sandy lands.

“It’ll do us no good to get caught up in it,” Esenaij replied, a slight groan to his voice, indicating his annoyance at the fact. “Those clouds rolled in quick. It’s not ideal, but it may be best to head back north and west to the caves where the Uyagir house themselves. They would not be wont to turn us away. It’ll add another sun or two to our way back to the Sagahl, but we have little choice if we wish not to be kept stranded by the rain.”

There was a momentary pause.

“And all that besides, it will not do Nomin well to get caught in the rain, either. I would rather not have to deal with any ailments she gains from attempting to hastily see ourselves to our destination versus being smart about it,” Esenaij continued.

“Wait!” Bayarmaa exclaimed, standing at the top of a nearby dune. Her tail was arched upward with delight or a sense of accomplishment, perhaps both. She then turned to look at the rest of the van and pointed excitedly beyond. “The Dataq are not far from us and have built their encampment to weather the approaching rain! We won't have to travel bells just to get to where the Uyagir are!”

Barghujin let out a low whistle and then grinned.

“Nice eye! It's a shame you don't come often with us, Bayarmaa! I wonder how many obstacles we could have avoided having you along,” Barghujin chuckled. Despite the comment made in jest, Esenaij shot them a look that seemed to speak volumes on how he had not appreciated the connotations of what was said.

“Let us just meet with the Dataq and seek sanctuary with them,” Esenaij said with a small growl to his tone. “We have nothing to give them in turn, though. I hope they mind little of this situation.”

“Worried about the Dataq and not the Uyagir?” Keuken asked with a slight scoff.

“The Uyagir would definitely not have asked for anything in return. Such is their way of eternal punishment unto themselves. I certainly would have felt less guilty about asking if we might use their caves for shelter…” Esenaij attempted to reason.

Bayarmaa made her way down the dune swiftly, using the sand to slide down on occasion, giggling somewhat as she approached. When she neared, she wagged a finger at her brother. “Not so! We have springtime knowledge of what vegetation to expect on the Steppe and how to harvest it. We'll trade our knowledge for their shelter should they want something in return.”

“... If they even want our knowledge…” Daritai sighed. He pushed some strands of hair out from obscuring his face, a frown settled upon his lips. “As a tribe that never seems to stop unless necessary, the Dataqi people are no doubt the most knowledgeable about the Steppe in its entirety, and even that outside of it, wherever they choose to roam…”

“Oh, I'm sure there's something we could share…” Bayarmaa replied, putting her hands on her hips. “I don't think we need to worry about it too much.

“We’ll get nowhere just speaking about it,” Esenaij sighed, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He adjusted the harness of the wain and started in the direction of where Bayarmaa saw the Dataqi encampment. “The sooner we manage to shelter ourselves, the better. Let us meet with our Dataqi brethren.”

Nomin did nothing but stay silent in the back, still disappointed. She thought to herself that if it were going to rain anyway, they should have asked the Dotharl if they could stay a day longer. Though, she laid back down in the wain, staring at the covering that was stretched over the bed.

Plip.

Plip.

Plip plip plip.

Raindrops started falling, their slow drips becoming the rising chorus of rainfall blanketing the land. What Nomin recognized afterward was that Esenaij hastened his pace, and it seemed that Daritai and Keuken pushed the wain at either side to help speed up the process of pulling it, while Barghujin and Bayarmaa pushed from behind in order to ascend the dune and then slow it down on the descent. All the while, the rain thickened, wettening the sand and drenching everyone else.

By the time the van arrived at the Dataqi encampment, everyone that was not Nomin was soaked from head to toe. Nomin herself was instructed to stay in the back for the time being where she could stay dry from the pouring rain. All the while, she overheard Barghujin and Bayarmaa speaking with voices she didn't recognize; members of the Dataq, surely.

Their words were just distant background noise in the moment to Nomin as she lay there, staring idly up at the inky canopy that kept her shielded from the sun prior. Now it kept her shielded from the rain…

The cart moved again and Nomin sat up to look over the side of the wain. She saw ger that were all standing close together. There was something different about them -- something Nomin could not quite place her finger on. Not right away at any rate.

Esenaij had been directed to take the wain to where the horses and sheep were being sheltered. The smell of the livestock hit Nomin first as she brought the fabric of her robes up to cover her nose. It was unpleasant, and she was quick to grab her baras toy and get herself out of the vehicle once it entered the shelter of the pavilion.

Nomin saw Bayarmaa off in the distance close to one of the ger and was about to run off in her direction. Before Nomin could even leave the covered patch of land, she was grabbed by the arm by Esenaij.

“Not so fast…”

Nomin looked back at Esenaij, the bright green glow of his limbal rings cutting through the darkness down at her. Wind-aspected, Nomin was told during her first few suns among the Sagahl. Esenaij’s aether was aspected to wind that showed in the limbal rings he was given during his coming of age and that he  never bothered to change.

Letting go of Nomin, Esenaij reached into one of the crates that held the van’s collective belongings, and he pulled out a thickly woven blanket made from linen.

“Stay close. I won't have you getting drenched and coming down with any ailments…” Esenaij said, throwing the blanket first around his shoulders before holding it up to prevent the rain from falling on Nomin and drenching him any further. He led her toward Bayarmaa, who had been accompanied by a woman Nomin did not recognize.

“This is where we'll be staying tonight,” Bayarmaa informed Nomin as they went into the ger. Esenaij since took off to a different one that he was to share with Barghujin, Keuken, and Daritai.

Looking around the ger, Nomin finally put her finger on it. The ger of the Dataqi were smaller than the Sagahli (or even the Tumeti) ger she was more used to. Small, and yet…there were several children in this ger. Like a babysitting area in Reunion. Along with said children were two adult members of the Dataq who regarded both she and Bayarmaa warmly.

Nomin and Bayarmaa learned that the two women that were stationed in this ger were both mothers -- not of all the children present, but mothers that were keen on babysitting and watching over the children while the storms raged on. When Nomin glanced around, she noticed that the children had a myriad of things to keep them occupied. Some children had puzzles, others had books, a couple of children had even been playing with wooden dolls on the opposite side of the ger.

“Hey! Holuikhan! Those girls’ horns and scales are weird, just like yours!” a boy yelled at another girl who seemed to sit away from the other kids. After he had spoken, some of the other Dataqi children giggled or laughed. This caused Nomin to furrow her brow while raising her hand to cover some of the discoloration she knew she had on her horns.

Bayarmaa stayed silent, but she placed a comforting hand on Nomin's back.

“Erketu! You leave those Sagahli girls alone! I will not have you creating enemies in this ger while we’re here!” one of the women scolded, getting up from her seated position. She had previously been sipping some tea while having a conversation with the other woman in the structure.

“It’s not my fault their scales are weird!” Erketu retorted.

“It’ll be your fault when I lay you across my knee. Keep speaking as you are, we’ll see what happens!” the mother went on, grabbing the boy by his horn and dragging him to the other side of the ger. “They are  guests here while we wait out the storms. You will not make them feel unwelcome here and defile our standing with the Sagahl!”

After the woman sat Erketu on the other side of the ger, she approached both Nomin and Bayarmaa with an apologetic look on her face. She offered a respectful bow, more to Bayarmaa than to Nomin. Clearing her throat, she said, “my apologies for him. Children are wont to say whatever is on their mind… I hope that Erketu hasn't caused you too much distress.”

Bayarmaa shook her head, taking the outburst in stride.

“Fret not… Regardless of any commentary, my little sister and I appreciate the Dataq offering us respite in this dire weather,” Bayarmaa replied. She kept a hand on Nomin’s back before her attention went toward the girl that had been included in Erketu's outburst regarding Bayarmaa and Nomin. She moved her hand and squeezed Nomin’s shoulder gently, looking down at her. “Isn't that right?”

“... I guess…” Nomin slowly replied, frowning after glancing in Erketu's direction. Her response caused Bayarmaa to sigh before she removed her hand.

“Please, go and join the other children and play with them,” the Dataqi woman urged Nomin after looking down at her. She motioned toward the rest of the ger with an efforted smile upon her face, the children who overheard looking up with some curiosity before going back to what they were doing prior. Of course, Nomin could only glance from the woman to the other children in the ger.

Hanging from the center pole of the ger, two lanterns hung, casting warm light over everyone and everything. Nomin’s eyes adjusted well enough to the dim and warm lighting, and she looked back up at Bayarmaa before scanning the ger once more. She eventually saw that girl -- Holuikhan, Nomin remembered Erketu saying -- and walked toward her.

“... Hello, I'm Nomin!” Nomin greeted, holding her baras toy close. Though Nomin only had lamp light to see, the girl that sat there with an open book in her lap had much more noticeable patches of discoloration on her scales up close. The patches were nearly white with a purple fade between the black and white discoloration. Unlike Bayarmaa and Nomin’s striated markings, Holuikhan's patches were like blotches of spilled paint.

Nomin cleared her throat, glancing back at Bayarmaa when she got no response from Holuikhan. She then pointed at the book and attempted to strike up conversation again. She wanted to quell the pang of jealousy that hit her, for Nomin was still not versed too well in being able to read nor write.

“What are you reading?”

Holuikhan looked up finally at Nomin, a small frown creased upon her lips. She stared at Nomin for a long time before she finally looked back down at her book. Holuikhan slowly closed the book and looked at the title on the cover.

“It's called Maiden of the Sea of Blades…” Holuikhan eventually said in response. Her words were soft and delicate, and Nomin had to lean forward a bit to hear her.

“Is it good?” Nomin questioned.

A small nod was Holuikhan's response. A smile grew upon her lips, and then she asked with piqued interest, “would you like to read it with me? It's about a woman named Tomame Hagane from the Malaguld tribe who goes to the lands of Yanxia and discovers an ancient sword of her people! It’s one of the few stories we have about a Raen au ra taken in by the Malaguld on a quest to discover an ancient family heirloom of theirs!”

“Oh, I…” Nomin started, casting her eyes to the ground. The story already sounded amazing, but Nomin harbored some doubts about her capabilities. She swallowed after a moment, her voice quieting. “I can't really read that well… Bayarmaa…she's been teaching me to read and write. But there's a lot I still don't really know…”

Hearing her name, Bayarmaa walked over, weaving between other Dataqi children before she crouched down with a smile. She looked from Nomin to Holuikhan, and then down at the book. Casting her gaze back toward Nomin, she said to them, “I have something fun we could do.”

Both Nomin and Holuikhan looked at Bayarmaa inquisitively.

“Holuikhan, have you ever written or made up your own stories?” Bayarmaa asked, her warm expression remaining upon her face.

“Sometimes…” Holuikhan looked down at her book. “But I like reading the ones we get from Reunion or other traders more than making my own stories.”

“I see…” Bayarmaa brought a finger to her chin, a low hum of consideration falling from her lips. Her smile remained, even as her expression grew pensive. She then waved toward one of the two women overseeing the children, catching her attention. “Excuse me,  might you have some vellum and writing supplies that we can use?”

“Of course, let me see what I can scrounge up,” the woman said, placing down her cup and walking toward one of the boxes. There were a few boxes that were in the ger for the kids specifically that had things like handcrafted toys and instruments for the children to play with, and books that Nomin could not read.

Nomin's change in demeanor was apparent. Her tail flicked upward and a large smile spread across her face. She held her baras toy close, bouncing slightly on her toes. “Are we going to draw, Bayarmaa?”

“I was thinking…if Holuikhan liked at all to make stories, we could draw some pictures of some of her favorite moments she's made,” Bayarmaa suggested.

“I don't know how to draw…” Holuikhan replied, her prior expression of interest deflating a little bit. “If you drew anything, you should draw stuff with Tomame in it, though! She's my favorite to read about.”

The woman that had been flagged by Bayarmaa retrieved some rough paper and some charcoal and offered them to both the Sagahli individuals after approaching them. Both Bayarmaa and Nomin gave thanks as they took up the materials and laid them out. Holuikhan watched them, eyes following the papers being laid out momentarily before she looked at Nomin as she took a seat to get more comfortable.

With the paper laid out, Nomin grabbed one of the sticks of charcoal. Already, she set to work to get some plants and shrubs she remembered being taught about etched upon the paper. Holuikhan leaned over, watching with intrigue as Nomin dragged and prodded the stick of charcoal across the sheet she had.

Meanwhile, Bayarmaa got herself settled more upon the ground and took up her own stick of charcoal to start drawing. Her drawings were a little more carefully planned, though unlike Nomin, she began sketching something that resembled more of an auri visage. When Holuikhan looked over at Bayarmaa and what she was working on, there was a long moment between the three of them that was filled with silence, the scratching of charcoal, and the heavy battering of rain against the ger.

Thunder cracked, making the land shake with its reverberations. Some of the kids gasped or gave a slight start in response, though Nomin only remained silent. Her heart raced, but the thunder was not as bad as the gedan attack or being startled by the Dotharl when she bore witness to their khatun seeing the soul of another. Their cheers and whooping still rang in her horns whenever she recalled being back there.

“Why are you just drawing plants?” Holuikhan asked, having shifted her attention back to Nomin’s drawings.

Nomin paused.

“I want to, um…” Nomin took a moment, frowning in thought. She struggled for words, attempting to find the phrase Bayarmaa taught her. Eventually, she shrugged it off and simply continued with: “I want to keep remembering what Bayarmaa taught me about plants, and I can do that by drawing them.”

“Commit them to memory,” Bayarmaa gently said in a helpful manner.

“Yes! That's what I was trying to say!” Nomin beamed, looking up at Bayarmaa and then looking at Holuikhan.

“Did you teach Nomin to draw, Miss Bayarmaa?” Holuikhan asked, glancing between both Nomin’s drawing and Bayarmaa’s drawing. Compared to Nomin’s shaky and eager depictions of bulbs and other plants, Bayarmaa’s drawing was taking the shape of an auri traveler who was accompanied by a horse.

“She was actually already pretty familiar with it,” Bayarmaa replied with a chuckle. She glanced at Nomin. “How did you start drawing, Nomin?”

“Drew in the dirt a lot…” Nomin's reply was to the point, her gaze going back down to her sheet and drawings. She paused again, her attention going to the book that was in Holuikhan's possession. Pointing to it, Nomin posited the idea, “that's your favorite story, right? How about you read it for us while we draw? If it's a good story, I want to know it, too!”

“Yeah!” Holuikhan said, beaming as her eyes brightened with excitement. She flipped the book all the way back to the start. “I’ll go slowly so I can also explain! I love this story.”

Holuikhan looked back at the drawings.

“Can you show me how to draw if I read the story?” Holuikhan asked.

Nomin giggled and nodded. “I can show you how to draw, sure!

Time with the Dataq continued on like that for Nomin and Bayarmaa both. Holuikhan read the story of Tomame, explaining some bits that Nomin asked about, and keeping her in suspense for other details. Though Nomin pouted at some of the secrets of the book, she simply continued to listen, sometimes stopping where she was in her doodling to look at and listen to what Holuikhan read. The book captivated Nomin enough to ask Bayarmaa if they could get a copy of the book from Reunion the next time they went.

What intrigued Nomin further was when Holuikhan showed her pictures painted into the book with a grin.

“There are books with drawings?” Nomin asked, surprised by the knowledge. She thought all they had were writings in them.

“You’ve never seen picture books?” Holuikhan asked. She pointed at the drawing on her current page with a smile. The image was of an auri woman, her horns and tail white as snow. “There are drawings in the book to help tell the story and sometimes help you get an idea of what the characters look like.”

Nomin took in the details as much as she could. Both she and Holuikhan exchanged interests, with more of the book having been read aloud as the night settled, and Nomin breaking out of her normal art subjects to attempt drawing Tomame. All until the two eventually wore themselves out to slumber, Bayarmaa and the other women helping to get them tucked in for the night.

When morning rolled around, the rains had come to an end. The lands were damp, though could easily be maneuvered.

Esenaij and the others were already set to work, getting the wain prepared. Meanwhile, many of the Dataq were quick to rise themselves, their efforts going toward dismantling their ger and getting their belongings loaded up upon their horses and their own wains that carried the materials. There were a good few Dataqi members who were already sitting in the saddles of their horses, but were tied or secured to them; these members were slumbering still yet sitting upon their steeds, their saddles having been outfitted with cushioned backs so that they could lean against them if needed.

“They sleep like that?” Nomin inquired as she got situated in the back of Esenaij’s wain. Part of her imagined that she could never sleep on the back of a horse -- especially if it was to keep moving across the Steppe. She imagined the horse’s gait from what she remembered with the Tumet. A gallop could be smooth, but a trot? Now that would have just been uncomfortable.

“It's part of how they ensure they can travel the Steppe unimpeded,” Daritai mentioned as he placed a secured jar of water down into the wain bed. Apparently it was a collection of rainwater the Dataq gathered and allowed for them to take with them should their waterskins run dry. Daritai then looked over at Nomin before continuing; “it's far from uncommon that the Dataq will continue to ride for days at a time. They really only stop for a couple bells for their horses and sheep to rest. Sometimes they stop to milk and shear their sheep.”

“They probably had their encampment set up bells before the storm actually hit yesterday, too,” Barghujin said after they drank deep of their waterskin. They then took a book from their satchel and handed it off to Nomin with a grin. “New education material for you. The Dataq have traveled all across the Steppe because of their way of life and have recorded their own findings. A lot of what they have of immense value is mostly in the weather and environmental differences to effectively prepare themselves should they need to hunker down because of natural hazards. They were happy enough trading us some recordings they had for our own on herbs and medicine.”

Nomin hummed in consideration to that. She never really thought about the rain nor the snow other than they were things that happened and things she, at this time, expected to have been sheltered from. She never thought about planning ahead. Not until she took up the proffered book and heard Barghujin’s words.

“Nomin!”

Nomin looked over the railing of the wain at the sound of her name. Holuikhan was running for the wain and the other Sagahl, a familiar book clutched to her chest along with some loose sheets of vellum. She eventually paused just a few fulms distance from the wain before continuing in a walk, her breathing somewhat labored by her run to get there.

“The Dataq are soon to ride across the Steppe again,” Holuikhan said, looking over her shoulder briefly and then looking back up at Nomin. She adjusted the book within her hold and then offered it to Nomin. The second book that was offered that morning already.

Taking the book gently, Nomin looked it over and gave a small gasp when she realized what book it was.

Maiden of the Sea of Blades.

“Are you sure, Holuikhan? Isn't this your favorite book?” Nomin asked, hesitation in fully accepting the gift evident by the way she held it gently against the railing. It was as if Nomin was waiting for Holuikhan to have second thoughts and snatch the book back into her possession.

Holuikhan nodded emphatically in response to Nomin’s inquiry, however.

“That's why I want you to have it! I've read the story of Tomame so many times, I could probably tell you the whole thing by heart!” Holuikhan proudly said. She then relaxed her shoulders, her expression softening. “But you've never read it before… Maybe it can be your favorite story, too. You know, since we didn’t get to finish it last night at all. Only scratched the surface! And…and maybe when we see each other again, we can talk about the book and draw together again.”

Nomin then pulled the book close. Protective. A warm smile spread over her face.

“Thank you, then. I’ll have Bayarmaa help me read it!”

Holuikhan then took the sheets of vellum and organized them, getting them all straightened out. She held them up, and Nomin saw that the sheets held out to her were some of hers and Bayarmaa’s drawings that were done over the course of the night prior.

“You left them in the ger…” Holuikhan informed Nomin. “I mean, the both of you did. I didn't think you'd want to leave without them.”

Just as Nomin was reaching for the sheets, Bayarmaa was walking toward them, Keuken at her side. Withdrawing her hand and then waving at Bayarmaa, Nomin smiled widely. In return, Bayarmaa was quick to give a gentle wave before her attention went to Holuikhan.

“Shouldn't you be getting ready to leave with your tribe?” Bayarmaa asked, somewhat surprised by Holuikhan's presence.

“Y-Yes!” Holuikhan turned toward Bayarmaa and offered to her instead the drawings. “I was just wanting to say goodbye and to give you both your drawings back before I left with my parents. Not to mention giving Nomin the book about Tomame!”

Bayarmaa took the drawings, a soft and mused scoff falling from her. Thumbing through the drawings, Bayarmaa then picked out one in particular. It was of a charcoal drawing she did of Tomame alongside her steed. She then handed it to Holuikhan.

“Keep this one. Since you enjoy Tomame so much, this one is for you,” Bayarmaa said.

“You mean it?” Holuikhan’s brow rose up as she tentatively took up the drawing.

“Of course. Keep it, it’s yours,” Bayarmaa reaffirmed. With the bed of the wain having been largely emptied since their time with the Dotharl, she went around to seat herself on the back. As the wain jostled and shifted, Esenaij sighed as he readjusted the harness onto his person.

Holuikhan held the drawing close, looking down at the image of Tomame fondly. Offering a small bow in thanks and respect, she then turned to leave with the rest of the Dataq. Not before pausing and looking back, expressing thanks for the drawing and for their time the night prior.

Once everyone was on the road on their respective ways, Nomin started prattling away about some parts of the story she remembered, mostly to Bayarmaa. The book was then taken and shown to Bayarmaa as well, Nomin looked up at her with excitement.

“Can we read this together after studies?�� Nomin asked, eyes bright.

Laughing lightly, Bayarmaa took the book up in her hands and opened it. Smiling down at Nomin, she replied, “we can read it right now. It’ll be part of our studies since we’re still working on reading and writing along with all of our other things. How’s that sound?”

A surprised look gave way into further excitement, and Nomin nodded eagerly as she settled next to Bayarmaa. “I’d like that!”

[paintedscales]

008. Dotharl

Nomin comes to learn more about the desert than she expected, as well as receives a pendant from Bayarmaa made from the copper piece from her Tumet trial. The Sagahl van eventually reaches the Dotharl Khaa, and Nomin is told about the souls of Dotharl...and even how souls of others are accepted into the tribe under certain circumstances. During all of this, she also connects with a young member of the Dotharl whose experiences resonate with her own that she immediately finds herself comforted by in some way.

Word count: 4,894

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

A day and a half transpired as the Sagahli van pressed forward through Nhaama’s Retreat. In the wake of the harsh sunlight that heated up the sands to incredible temperatures, Bayarmaa and Barghujin took the time one morning to ensure the back of Esenaij’s wain was covered by a thick cotton canopy so that Nomin was shaded from the sun's harsh rays. In the meantime, those who walked took lighter clothes from their packed belongings to wrap around their heads and bodies, also taking the time to get Nomin dressed in the light and airy garments for herself.

“What are these for?” Nomin asked as Bayarmaa helped get her dressed lightly, but protectively.

“To protect you from the harsh heat. These clothes will let your skin breathe while allowing the wind to come through and cool your body. The sun will damage and dehydrate us if we aren't careful out here during Azim’s hours,” Bayarmaa explained. “We may be able to find glorious bounties in the desert if we know what to look for, but even that won't sustain us if we succumb to heat sickness or being too parched to function.”

In addition to helping Nomin dress appropriately for the desert heat, Baryamaa produced a leather cord with the copper filigree. There were some beads made of polished stone and wood that also adorned the necklace, making it prettier to look at. Almost instantly, Nomin beamed widely when it was given to her.

“You made it into a necklace!” Nomin exclaimed, drawing the cord around her neck.

“Mhm! When you told me about it, I took some nights to help shave it down and blunt it a bit so it wouldn’t cut anything anymore. I hope that’s okay? I probably could have fit it into the backing without doing too much…” Bayarmaa started explaining, hoping that some of her work with it would have been fine by Nomin.

“I think you made it pretty!” Nomin happily said, her tail flicking upward every now and then as it fell back into place. She held the copper piece of the necklace in her hand, smiling all the while as she turned it to and fro, letting the sun glint off of it every now and then.

“Then I’m glad,” Bayarmaa replied simply, smiling warmly as she double checked Nomin’s garments to make sure they were secured before telling her to get back onto the wain.

Nomin had her own waterskin that Bayarmaa packed before they fully set off from the Sagahl Iloh, thankfully. It was not something Nomin thought of, so having the water to sup upon while she rode in the back of the shaded wain made all the difference for beating the heat along with the clothes she was made to wear. While she was back there, she had been given the responsibility of ensuring the fruit and vegetables were nestled safely and securely, as well as remaining largely undamaged.

Travel was impeded at one point thanks to a pack of gedan that were traveling the sands. The pack was not large, thankfully; five of them. Nomin was the first to get carried out of harm's way thanks to Daritai's instinct that led him to scooping her up and out of the way from getting her arm chomped by one of the charging hounds. All the while, Barghujin and Keuken held themselves between the rest of the Sagahl and the pack of gedan, their lances pointed forward.

Bayarmaa’s disposition also changed, her hands flew to her bow and arrows to take aim and fire. Once Esenaij quickly got himself freed from the wain’s harness, he also collected his bow and arrows, providing supporting shots from a distance. Though the confrontation with the gedan took more time than they cared for, two were slain, and another two were injured before the remaining gedan ran off to seek easier prey elsewhere.

None of the Sagahl seemed particularly pleased about what transpired, though they paid respects for the beastkin they slayed. Nomin, on the other hand, had been far more hopeful that perhaps there could have been an exception to their ways. Her mouth watered for meat, though it was not meant to be. So, she practiced in paying respects, at least, for the fallen gedan who were now returned to Nhaama’s embrace.

Even though the Sagahl were not particularly pleased about the situation, each of them took on a job of bleeding, gutting, skinning, and butchering the two gedan they fell. Just about everything was collected, anything considered refuse being left to the sand. Hide, bones, meat, fat, sinew… Everything considered useful was prepared and packed away carefully in ways that Nomin never even considered until that moment!

“I'm sorry if that was my fault…” Nomin started when she helped Esenaij with cleaning the bones. She felt guilty, and went on into the why of it. “The Tumet taught some of the khüüked before our trials that if we were to see our trial at all, we needed to avoid the wildlife of the Steppe because small auri like me are more appealing to them as prey…”

Despite Esenaij’s sour disposition on most occasions, he gave a long, resigned sigh. Setting the bones aside in a burlap sack, he looked down at her. “It was not your fault, Nomin. This part of the Retreat is gedan territory, so it will not be uncommon to find them roaming about. Besides, it was not as if you went out of your way to find them and cause trouble. Small groups like that often grow desperate for food, as they cannot often hunt for larger prey with such few numbers.”

Esenaij’s words were gentler than normal, and Nomin’s tail flicked upwards slightly and tentatively as she looked up at him. A small smile graced her lips before she went back to help clean more of the bones that were left over from Daritai butchering the meat. The two of them carried on with idle conversation here and there, Nomin’s curiosities being answered about why they were expending so much effort in preparing the gedan remains if the Sagahl do not partake in eating or using the pieces of beastkin.

“Just because it's our way of life doesn't mean we should let it go to waste when it could benefit someone else who's way of life is different from our own,” Esenaij explained. “The Dotharl won the Naadam, and while our gift to them will surely be appreciated, their way of life here in the desert often revolves around their oasis. Finding food out in the desert is hard enough, they will likely appreciate the added meat once it's delivered.”

“And keeping it packed in that crate with ice crystals will help it stay fresh while we travel?” Nomin asked, glancing back toward Daritai and Keuken working on getting more of the meat cut, cleaned, and wrapped in parchment before packing it away.

“The temperatures the ice crystals will keep the meat at will prevent it from spoiling, yes…” Esenaij replied. He looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to think of any examples that Nomin could know. Finally, as he tied up the bag of bones, he said: “if you've ever encountered snow, perhaps the Tumet have dug holes in it to help preserve meat or even milk? The ice crystals essentially do the same thing without the need for such a heavy winter.”

Nodding along, Nomin hummed in thought at the information she had just received and reached for her waterskin to help wash her hands now that they were done. Though more time was spent getting the gedan remains situated and put away, Nomin watched with intense curiosity as even the hides were stored along with the ice crystals. When she asked about that, she was told that none of them had any materials to even start a tanning process, and that would have to be left to the Dotharl to take care of once delivered.

In the rest of their travels across the desert of Nhaama’s Retreat to the Dotharl Khaa, Nomin kept an eye out for anything that could have attacked them. Gedan, manzasiri, anala…anything that Esenaij and Bayarmaa had told her about, and everything that she learned about when she actually traveled alongside the Tumet as one of their children. What also helped were the recollections and information that Barghujin, Keuken, and Daritai were willing to impart as well in order to help keep Nomin aware.

It was fortuitous that they met with little else on the venture to the Dotharl’s oasis. Of course, when they met with the Dotharl guards, they had stopped them, their words terse and abrasive before Esenaij said that he and the others were here to deliver the tribe a gift. Noting the deeper blue colors of the Sagahl, as well as being shown the bounties of grain and fruit, the Dotharli guards soon relented and allowed the group through.

“Nomin, do you want to explore the oasis while Esenaij and the others make the delivery?” Bayarmaa asked, walking over to Nomin.

“Can I?” Nomin chirped eagerly in question, a smile growing on her face. She eagerly hopped out of the wain and looked around. She had already been quite taken with the sights of the oasis, but the idea of getting to walk around enticed her. She already noted that the ger that were weathered and worn, their blues fading from their time in the sun, day after day.

“Since we're welcome here, we can walk around as long as we don't cause trouble. You should go ahead and walk around as well; get your legs stretched after sitting so long in the wain most of our journey,” Bayarmaa said.

Walking over to Bayarmaa, Nomin elected to take up holding her hand for the time being. She knew that when the Tumet spoke of the Dotharl, they often had few nice things to say. Honestly, that recollection made Nomin just a little nervous about meandering around the oasis, even with Bayarmaa’s reassurance.

The two of them traveled the oasis together, Nomin peeking around curiously before the sound of a baby crying made her pause, tail stiffening as she looked toward the sound. Normally, Nomin would have just ignored it, but when she saw the cluster of Dotharli people at one of the open-faced structures, she pointed it out to Bayarmaa. Especially after seeing Sadu at the center point of them, a swaddled baby held before her by the winner of the year's Naadam, Maa.

“What are they doing?” Nomin asked Bayarmaa, turning her head to look up at the elder Xaela.

“It's somewhat of a naming ceremony, I suppose you could call it…” Bayarmaa started in response, bringing a finger to her chin as she thought over her words.

“Like how I would have gotten a name from my parents if I went back to the Tumet after my trial?”

Bayarmaa paused at the question before she frowned slightly, contemplating how to answer Nomin. She tugged on Nomin’s hand lightly to start walking toward the group. “Um…perhaps? Though, surely a lot more different. Why don’t we get closer to watch?”

Nomin followed along with Bayarmaa, feeling at least somewhat comforted by her presence as they neared. Nomin witnessed Sadu take the crying babe into her hands, surprisingly delicately as she hushed and rocked it to quiet it down. Once the wails had died down and ceased, Nomin watched as the baby gurgled and reached up, clutching some of Sadu's white locks as it giggled.

“Sadu Khatun, please tell me whose soul has entered the babe born from my wife?” Maa asked Sadu, getting down on his knees and bowing in respect to her.

Sadu herself, even while holding the swaddled babe, stood tall and proud. Her features were set with that same kind of air as she brought a finger down to stroke the infant’s cheek. Nomin watched as Sadu’s expression became more focused, her eyes staring down into those of the babe’s. Her brow furrowed, and soon, Sadu handed the baby back to Maa with a grin.

“This child bears the soul of Dhunan! The brave warrior who brought down several Oronir, Buduga, and Chaghan to see you, Maa, take hold of the ovoo! We will sing to this child praise of what he did during the Naadam, and how he would always put the other Dotharli before himself with the power of seventy manzasiri!” Sadu proclaimed proudly and with conviction. She took up her staff and rammed the butt of it into the ground, her free hand resting upon her hip. “Even in his past lives, Dhunan displayed great feats of strength! In this life, we shall ensure he grows strong, telling him of how his past lives trained and trained!”

The hair on the back of Nomin’s scalp and neck stood on end once the crowd of Dotharl started cheering, chanting the name of the baby with glee and mirth. She staggered back a bit before hiding somewhat behind Bayarmaa. Her tail wiggled stiffly with surprise at the raucous cheering. That was a little bit overwhelming in terms of excitement -- especially around such ruthless fighters during the Naadam.

“... I want to go back to the wain…” Nomin said, staying behind Bayarmaa before looking up at her.

“Is something wrong?” Bayarmaa asked, looking at Nomin curiously.

Nomin shook her head and pursed her lips, her hold tightening upon Bayarmaa’s hand momentarily. She then huffed lightly and said, “...It’s loud here.”

Bayarmaa offered a sheepish smile before turning and leading the way back; “very well. Come on, then. We’ll await Esenaij and the others once we find where they’re at.”

Following along after Bayarmaa, Nomin glanced over her shoulder at the cheering Dotharl at the khatun's seat before looking back ahead of her. While they walked, Nomin inquired about the Dotharl's naming and why it seemed like everyone had any kind of name, her examples being that both Sadu and Maa seemed to have names that would be more fit for the opposite gender. Bayarmaa only chuckled in response and did her best to explain how she felt was best.

“It's actually really no different than if someone were to have named their babe Nergüi, I feel…” Bayarmaa started. “In that the meaning is to mislead bad spirits. As such, it's actually not uncommon for parents to give names that would typically be associated with us to babes that are male when brought into the world.”

Nomin hummed in thought, her gaze going to the ground as they walked.She thought back to the naming ceremonies she had previously been witness to when children who freed themselves eventually returned to the Tumet Iloh for their pre-Naadam migration. Recalling some of what she heard and saw, she finally spoke, “the Tumet don't name us as babes, though. The names given to those deemed worthy at the naming ceremonies are usually given by the khan or khatun. Sometimes the parents.”

“Oh…” Bayarmaa frowned, realizing that perhaps more gendered names were what Nomin found herself used to if that was how naming went among the Tumet. “I can see your confusion, then.  When it comes to the Dotharl, their souls have no prejudice to the babes they come back to within the tribe, so you get a lot of members that have names that may be confusing on a surface level because Sadu kahtun sees the soul within the babe and declares their previous life who now inhabits it.

“But it's really nothing to worry about overall. You chose your name, after all.” Bayarmaa gave Nomin a grin. “Nothing would stop Esenaij nor I from changing our names to something we preferred. I guess you could say that if I did that, I would be choosing a name worthy of me. Just like you chose a name worthy of you, hm?”

Nomin's brow rose, and her mouth fell slightly agape at the idea. “I didn't think about it like that. I guess you're right! Just as I am worthy, I chose a name worthy of me! It could have been a boy's name, too, if I wanted!”

The two of them made it back to the wain where they were greeted by Barghujin and Keuken. There was also another boy there who donned the light blue deel of Dotharli youth standing with them, a ripened plum in his hands that he seemed to have been nibbling on. Nomin’s gaze lingered on the boy for a moment, her tail curling inquisitively as she looked from him back up at Barghujin and Keuken.

“There you two are!” Keuken greeted both Nomin and Bayarmaa. “Esenaij and Daritai are close to done, I imagine, with their audience with the Dotharl elder. They’ve already brought in the gedan remains that we got for them to distribute later. I think last I heard, they’re discussing some of the collection methods of gathering some of the herbs and fruits that grow within the desert.”

Bayarmaa let go of Nomin’s hand and then placed a hand on her back, ushering her forward.

“Go wait in the wain for a bit. They might need me to help with some stuff once Esenaij is done.” Bayarmaa’s attention then went to both Barghujin and Keuken. She then approached the other two Sagahl to talk to them while Nomin tentatively approached the wain, her attention having gone back to the unknown Dotharli boy.

The Dotharli boy was basking in the shade of the cover that was used for the wain, his own attention falling upon Nomin as she approached.

“Hello,” the boy spoke, making Nomin freeze for a moment, her tail flicking with added hesitation. Her actions and uncertain expression made the boy laugh rather heartily before he apologized: “S-sorry! I don’t mean to laugh…”

The boy then composed himself, donning a pleasant expression and asking: “are you here with Mister Esenaij and the other Sagahl? I-I mean, I guess that’s a silly question since you’re wearing the Sagahl colors. Just…Mister Esenaij sometimes makes deliveries to the other tribes for trade. He’s given me some dawn plums before. I��ve seen the others before, but I’ve never seen you or your sister before.”

Nomin gave the boy a quizzical look, tilting her head slightly. She neared the wain, walking under the shade herself and soon leaning against it. Every now and then, Nomin glanced at the boy, wondering who he was and why he opted to approach the Sagahl van when it seemed other Dotharl were more interested in their own doings rather than greeting them. He was a couple ilms taller than she was, his horns taking shape into becoming horns that curved outward and then forward.

Though Nomin thought over her questions, she felt too shy to speak up right away. Especially since she was still uncertain about whether or not she should speak with the Dotharl freely after stories she had heard from the Tumet. However, she did think to herself that having more friends her age would have been nice -- even if they were part of different tribes. It would have been fun to meet them again, whether in Reunion or elsewhere.

And so the two children stood in silence for a long time.

The pleasant look on the boy’s face faded into worry as he nibbled further on his plum. Nomin could really only rock back and forth on her feet, her back bumping against the wooden railing of the wain. Neither of them were really sure what to do or say for the most part. When the boy made no effort to move away, however, Nomin let out a silent sigh through her nose.

“I’m Arik,” the boy finally said, introducing himself.

Silence hung in the air again for a time.

“My name is Nomin…” Nomin slowly introduced herself in kind. She turned her head to look at him again, noting more of his features. Given how it seemed this Arik was not particularly shy about approaching the wain nor the other Sagahl members, Nomin then asked: “does…does Esenaij come here often?”

“Sure! The Dotharl don’t often venture too far from the oasis to go to Reunion. Even then, the Dotharl, er, we don’t have too much use for some of the trinkets and things there when we can trade the Uyagir for arrowheads and ore, and the oasis being here means hunting is generally pretty easy for people like my mother.” Arik seemed pleased enough to explain how the Dotharl were pretty well supplied overall.

Arik then turned the partially eaten plum in his hands before taking another bite. After he swallowed, he continued after a momentary pause, “...we don’t get a lot of things that are grown from the earth around here, though. Not like any fruit in abundance, or grains that we can turn into bread.”

Nomin’s brow twitched with bemusement at Arik’s way of wording things and placing emphasis on addressing the Dotharl on their own versus including himself among them with ‘we.���

“Are you not Dotharl?” Nomin asked, dropping her voice to a whisper. The question made Arik look at her in surprise. However, he started shaking his head in answer.

“N-no. I mean. I am! Just…when the khan -- the Sadu before the one we have now -- looked into my eyes, he said that he saw no one he recognized. The Dotharli woman who gave birth to me…she told me stories of a Noykin horse master who was best friends with her husband…my father. His name was Arik, and he had died in the midst of a terrible anala attack,” Arik shuddered, leaving some details unspoken. “My mother told me that my previous incarnation could tame any horse if given only a handful of days -- and nearly any creature.”

“That’s pretty amazing…” Nomin breathed, genuinely thinking the brief bits that were told to her were interesting and enthralling. Even if she did not know of the Noykin herself, she was still captivated by the idea of reincarnation now that she was speaking to one of the Dotharl herself. “So…you’re a reincarnated Noykin? How did that happen that you are now of the Dotharl? When Bayarmaa was explaining it to me, she said that the Dotharl souls come back into Dotharl babes. How do souls from not-Dotharl come into the babes?”

Arik shrugged, his face twisting in some confusion over it himself. After a moment’s consideration, he finally said to her, “my mother tells me that sometimes friends of the Dotharl -- those who have given their lives for the lives of Dotharl -- are invited to our tribe through death. That must be what happened to my previous life. I died in my last life and was invited to the Dotharl…which is probably why I never feel too welcome in their celebrations.”

“I kind of know what that feels like,” Nomin replied, the mutual understanding of feeling like an outsider to their own tribe formulating that start of a bond. She looked at Arik and told him: “I actually come from the Tumet tribe. I passed my trial, but…I didn’t want to go back. I never really felt like I could get used to the Tumet traditions. It’s why Mister Esenaij and Miss Bayarmaa now take care of me! Esenaij took me in shortly after I arrived at Reunion.”

Arik offered Nomin a small smile at her story, more because he felt somewhat reassured by her words. Then he looked confused, as if he realized something.

“Wait, if you’re from the Tumet…did you get a name from them, or from the Sagahl?” Arik asked. “And that woman…she’s your sister, right? Is she also originally from the Tumet? She has markings like you do…”

“I named myself!” Nomin replied cheerfully and without hesitation. “And…that’s just Miss Bayarmaa. She has markings like me, but she’s Esenaij’s sister. I guess she’s my sister now, too, though.”

“Huh…” Arik’s expression softened at that. “I never considered that you could name yourself… Do the Tumet usually let you do that? Or…I guess…”

Nomin shook her head emphatically. She told Arik about the naming ways that the Tumet normally employed as she crawled into the back of the wain to get herself situated a little more comfortably. The more that Nomin spoke with Arik as the other Sagahl got the goods from their wain given to the Dotharl elder, the more she found herself happily talking about all kinds of things with him. From what he knew of the Noykin, to what Nomin often found herself enjoying now that she was part of the Sagahl.

During their conversations, Nomin told Arik how she ended up naming herself, recalling the trial of the Tumet and how she always kind of liked the blue markings on her scales. How they and her general appearance were the inspiration for just calling herself how she saw herself: lapis. She admitted it could have been more creative, but that the name ‘Nomin’ always just felt right as soon as it entered her mind.

Their conversations went on as the wain was progressively emptied of its contents. Arik finished his plum long before they were addressed by Bayarmaa, who greeted them both with a pleasant expression on her face.

“I’m glad the two of you seem to be making fast friends,” Bayarmaa said as she neared them. She looked from Arik to Nomin. “We’ll be staying the night within the care of the Dotharl, Nomin. I know you complain sometimes about not being able to eat meat since coming to us from the Tumet.”

Bayarmaa then dropped her voice to a whisper.

“But, if you keep it to yourself, I’ll let it slide that you eat some tonight with the meals that will be cooked tonight,” Bayarmaa said. “I can’t expect you to adopt the Sagahl diet immediately if you were used to meat with the Tumet for ten years. Just work your way to it. If you can, try to eat less meat than you normally would. I’d rather you ease yourself into our diet than pick it up immediately and end up resenting it.”

“So we’ll get to hang out for another day?” Arik excitedly asked, his mouth cracking into a wide smile.

“Mhm~” Bayarmaa hummed in response. She then focused her attention on Arik. “Well, maybe not a whole day, but at least for a good few bells.”

Bayarmaa glanced back at Nomin before speaking again to Arik; “thank you for keeping Nomin company. She’s slowly been making friends with the Sagahl, but it’s really nice that it seems she’s taken such a shine to you…Arik, was it? Esenaij mentioned your name when I asked about you.”

Arik’s smile became pursed for a moment as he looked down at the sparse grass underneath him in a bashful manner.

“It was fun, Miss Bayarmaa. I’m glad that she got to come with the Sagahl this time around,” Arik shyly replied.

Thinking on how Esenaij was typically more prepared to go and get himself out in an early fashion, Nomin brought her hands up to the leather cord around her neck. She slipped the necklace off that held the decorative copper piece in it. Though she stared at it for a long moment, Nomin really did feel a deep kinship with Arik and how their experiences within their tribes -- former or current -- made them feel.

“Just in case Mister Esenaij wants to leave right away in the morning, here!” Nomin said, thrusting her hand out and offering Arik the copper pendant that Bayarmaa had fixed up for her during their travel from the Sagahl Iloh to the Dotharl Khaa.

“What is it?” Arik asked as he tentatively reached out to accept the necklace.

“Remember what I said about my trial?”

“Yeah…but…what does that have to do with this necklace?” Arik looked down at the copper pendant as the rest of the leather cord and its bits and bobs pooled into the palm of his hand. His expression fell into bemusement as he looked over the item.

“Miss Baryamaa helped turn the copper piece I used to cut myself free into a necklace! I want you to have it. It’ll be like a promise that we’ll meet again one day!” Nomin explained, grinning. She looked back at Bayarmaa after mentioning her, looking to see what her reaction was. When Nomin saw that Bayarmaa had that familiar, gentle smile on her face, Nomin beamed as she looked back at Arik. “When we meet again, you can give it back. Or…maybe you can just keep it.”

“‘Keep it’?” Arik parroted back, his face twisting into further confusion. “Isn’t it important to you? Something that you used to free yourself with that you wanted to keep?”

“Well, yeah. If you want to keep it, you can. If not, just keep it until we meet again!” Nomin said. Puffing out her chest with a sense of accomplishment, she smiled proudly. “Since you know how important it is, I expect you to take good care of it!”

An amused scoff fell from Arik’s lips before he slipped the cord around his neck. The necklace was loose still, even around his neck as he looked down at the copper piece in the palm of his hand again. “Alright. It’s a promise then.”

[paintedscales]

007. Urumet

Arguing in favor of Nomin's presence on Esenaij's trip to the Dotharl, Baryamaa wins out, though not without some emotional turmoil coming to surface. Accompanying Esenaij, Nomin and Bayarmaa both travel with him and some other members of the Sagahl from the Sea of Blades to fringes of Nhaama's Retreat. It is here that Nomin learns more about the other denizens that inhabit the Steppe along with her.

Word Count: 3,758

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

To no one's surprise, Esenaij had been quite stubborn about letting Nomin come with him on his venture to the site of the Dotharl. He presented a myriad of reasons why Nomin should have stayed home, ranging from “she will simply get tired and therefore in the way,” to “the Dotharl are not known to have mercy even upon those who are not quite at adulthood.” Though, all of his arguments were shot down by Bayarmaa as she presented many cases to continue to allow Nomin to go along with him.

“The Dotharl welcome the Sagahl to their site so long as we mean no harm! It's why I can stay here without worry in my heart for your return!”

Eventually, it got to the point where Bayarmaa huffed and packed her own belongings necessary for a trip. When Esenaij asked her what she was doing, her answer was simple: “why, I'm coming with you to the Dotharl's oasis! Now you have no excuse to leave Nomin here, because she simply can't stay here to manage the ger on her own.”

“You are both infuriating!” Esenaij growled, furrowing his brow.

“And you are turning into Father!” Bayarmaa snapped back. “There is no harm in letting Nomin come along, you just think you have to do everything yourself, and because of that, anyone else that wants to come along to help or learn is simply another obstacle for you to ignore! It's impressive how Barghujin and the others don't simply let you go off on your own without additional protection!”

Nomin had never once seen Bayarmaa get so riled to have shouted back at Esenaij, and the tension became quite palpable. Likewise, Nomin had never really heard mention of either of their parents at all in the time that she lived among them. They were nameless, faceless entities who she only knew were not around.

The emotional miasma thickened as Bayarmaa stomped up to Esenaij and jabbed a finger sharply at his chest, however. Her jaw was set as she continued: “going out all the time, providing what you can, but never being here to create memories and times that matter! You hardly even spare the time to teach her things she wants to know! Like it or not, Nomin is part of our family now, and you are going to damn well act like it, by the blazing sunlight of Azim! Stop acting like you didn’t bring her here because part of you felt compassion or pity -- maybe both! If you cared not, you wouldn’t have brought her here where it’s safe in the first place!”

Taken aback, Nomin stared at Bayarmaa, her mouth falling slightly agape that the word ‘family’ was used to refer to her as. Even with as emotionally charged as the situation was, there was a tickling warmth inside Nomin’s chest as she considered the idea of being part of a family -- Bayarmaa and Esenaij's family. Especially since she already liked being with Bayarmaa and Esenaij, even if it seemed they were both polar opposites at times such as this.

Esenaij stood there for a long moment, glaring down at Bayarmaa. Nomin was brought back to how uncomfortable with the way the air felt, and how it seemed to just continually thicken. She felt the pressure tighten within her, amplifying how she could feel her heart beating inside her chest, and hear that steadily beating thrum within her horns.

“... Do as you will, then…” Esenaij finally replied, his voice cutting through the thickness that hung in the air whilst steeling himself to hide any visible crack of resignation. He turned for the door, one of his hands clenched into an irritated fist. When he reached the exit, he paused, soon saying in a gruff tone: “if you plan on coming, make yourselves hasty. I intend to leave in the next half bell when I've put all that I intend to bring to the Dotharl onto the wain.”

Soon after his announcement, Esenaij pushed the door open and left, allowing the door to swing shut with a rather loud whumpf! Meanwhile, Bayarmaa sighed and placed her hands on her hips. She took a moment to take some deep breaths to calm herself, though she and Nomin allowed the silence to linger and thin out the emotionally charged air whose crackle now turned into a fizzling current as it dissipated.

“... I'm sorry you were present for that, Nomin…” Bayarmaa finally apologized after she finished calming herself to a more agreeable level. Her back was turned to Nomin, and she only slightly turned her head to look over her shoulder. “It’s, um… It’s not often that Esenaij and I have disagreements so…loudly. Believe it or not, we…we never actually really fight that much.”

“But…you fought…because of me?” Nomin slowly asked, looking down at the ground. She attempted connecting the dots of the dispute, a lot of it seemingly in regards to her. A large part of her discomfort stemmed from the idea that Esenaij did not want her there. Not just on the venture to the Dotharl's site of current residence, but there among the Sagahl in general.

“No, no…certainly not because of you…” Bayarmaa was quick to attempt to assuage Nomin’s uncertainty. Turning around, Bayarmaa walked over to Nomin and knelt down in front of her, gently placing her hands on her shoulders. “Just…Esenaij has always been used to doing things alone for the most part. For a long time…it was just us. After our mother passed away due to illness,  he always took care of me when our father was out…which was often. And then father passed away, leaving just the two of us.”

“He doesn't like me being here because it means taking care of me, too?” Nomin attempted to further piece together what may have been the reason for Esenaij’s sour attitude when it came to her.

Bayarmaa pursed her lips momentarily, withdrawing her hands and taking a seat on the ground before Nomin. A low sigh fell from her nose as she then crossed her legs. Frowning, she thought about how to answer long and hard. She eventually placed a reassuring hand on Nomin’s knee.

“I think he's just overwhelmed with all this responsibility he feels like he has to take on and do by himself. Like…let's say that we cut too many logs to bring back to our site of migration and it's just the three of us. The best thing to do is take a couple trips to bring back all the wood so we don't tire ourselves out immediately, or hurt ourselves, right?” Bayarmaa attempted what she could to start drawing an analogy that could be understood.

“Sure…” Nomin slowly replied, the corners of her lips twitching back slightly into a frown. She thought about her trial among the other Tumeti children and tried to imagine the trees as piles of logs. Those trees made a lot of logs in her mind, and surely, the logic Bayarmaa provided was more than sound.

“Well, Esenaij…he's really bad at taking intermittent trips, and then really bad at resting between those trips to recuperate and gather himself. Worst of all, he is absolutely terrible about asking or accepting assistance from others,” Bayarmaa continued. “He tries to do all these things, and I think it just really becomes a lot for him as his body tires and cries for relief. Yet he keeps getting back up and forcing himself to go out, carry far too much yet again, and bring it all back all on his own while desperately needing rest.”

“… What can I do to help him? Because even if Esenaij doesn’t like me, I like him. He brought me here. And now I have a family!”

“I…” Bayarmaa paused, her lips parting every now and then as she searched for the words so she could respond. Eventually, she finally sighed and slumped her shoulders slightly. “Esenaij doesn't hate you, Nomin. He's just…really bad at expressing himself. Even worse when it comes to people he cares about. Sometimes it feels like he doesn't like me, either.”

Bayarmaa then shook her head, ridding herself of the negative thoughts in regards to their familial relationship. “As for helping him? 'm still…trying to figure out the answer myself… Especially since, as I said, he tends to refuse offers of aid or assistance in most cases where it matters. He always told me that I can't help people who don't want to be helped when it came to Father…”

Nomin slid off her seat, standing and going to pack some of her belongings. Her dagger was fastened upon her person, and she set aside some clothes to put away in a bag. Looking in Bayarmaa’s direction, Nomin posited a question: “you said he does a lot because he's the one that took care of you. But you're an adult like him. Does he think you can't take care of yourself -- that we can't take care of ourselves? You clearly can…”

Silence lingered between both Bayarmaa and Nomin as the question was left to stew. After some time, Bayarmaa allowed a scoff of disbelief to come out. She thought the question over a while longer as she stood herself up onto her own two feet. Her tail swayed with continued thought before she finally said: “I…guess I never really thought about it that way. I had my duties here, and he out there.”

Bayarmaa paused, furrowing her brow in further thought.

“Is…is that how it seems to you?” Bayarmaa had a look of confusion wrought upon her face. She thought hard about the point of view that Nomin provided, her mouth creasing tightly as she mulled it over.

Nomin shrugged in response. She then picked up her baras toy from the shelf and tucked it under her arm. “You said that it was just you and him after your papa died. If mamas and papas are supposed to take care of their children like the Sagahl do, and yours went back to Nhaama’s embrace, then maybe he still sees you like me. A child.”

Only the sound of Nomin packing her extra clothing and toy filled the air as it seemed she had given Bayarmaa something to ponder further. However, she eventually composed herself and took up the items she packed herself while assisting Nomin with anything else. Once they were ready, they left the ger and peered around for Esenaij momentarily. Once they caught sight of him loading up sacks of fava beans, grains, and unripened plums in the back of his wain, they were quick to make their way over and get their belongings loaded up into the back.

There were three other Sagahli members that stood close by, weapons upon their persons. Nomin stared at them for a while, holding her baras toy close. She had seen them before, but she never really introduced herself to these particular members of the tribe.

“Bayarmaa! You're coming along this time?” one of the three members asked. Their tail swished gently to and fro with glee. The Xaela in question was tall -- as tall as any male-at-birth auri. However, when Nomin looked them over, she noted how their horns seemed smaller than average. At least when it came to what she was used to seeing on Xaela of their size and stature.

“I'm coming along to assist Nomin's understanding of plant life in the desert. I've been helping her learn about things close by, but I thought this would be a decent opportunity to help her with things outside the Sea of Blades,” Bayarmaa said in response as she got her stuff situated and secured alongside Nomin’s. She managed to make herself smile and pretend as if she and Esenaij did not just have an argument all that long ago.

“So you're our new little Sagahl, eh?” the Saghal warrior looked over in Nomin’s direction and leaned down so they were more eye level with her, a wide smile on their face. “The name's Barghujin! It's a pleasure to meet you, little one!”

Barghujin then stood back up, tall and proud, puffing out their chest as they rested their lance on their shoulder. They then jabbed their thumb back at the other two warriors. Their grin widened as they introduced the other two Sagahl members: “the taller one with the bow and dark hair is Daritai. And then the one with wide horns with the tired look in their eyes is Keuken. We usually go with Esenaij when he's headed out to make trade with other tribes. Just for a little extra protection.”

Nomin glanced between the three of them before settling back on Barghujin. Tilting her head to the side, Nomin hummed in thought. Again, she looked between them and asked, “just the three of you?”

“Sometimes there are more of us! But this is just a delivery, and the most we need to look out for are probably just your average gedan pack, maybe some anala or manzasiri if we venture too far into the desert. So long as we don’t make them angry, we should be fine.” Barghujin chortled to themselves before reaching down and ruffling Nomin’s hair, much to her displeasure. “Don't you worry ‘bout a thing, little Nomin! Besides, with your own dagger on hand, I'm sure you'll be the one protecting us, eh?”

Smoothing out her hair, Nomin allowed an amused scoff to fall from her nostrils. A smile tugged at her lips. It was hard to stay annoyed with Barghujin when they seemed like this was just who they were: a very outgoing person who just liked talking and making friendly banter.

Plus, Nomin did have her own dagger! She was certain she could have at least done something with it!

“No more time to waste…” Esenaij spoke up, tossing one last bag into the back of the wain. He motioned to it once Nomin looked in his direction, torn from her thoughts. “If you're tagging along, hurry it up. I won't keep the wain here all afternoon. There's enough room for you to sit and lay down if you need to.”

“No room for me?” Bayarmaa asked in jest, placing her hands on her hips with a teasing look on her face. She was doing her best to keep her tone lighthearted to keep whatever disagreements they had in the past instead of souring the air once more. Though she then shrugged and chuckled. “But, if the room on the bed of the wain is better suited for Nomin, so be it! I'm happy enough to walk.”

“Good.” It was a simple response as Esenaij positioned himself into the harness to pull the wain. While fastening the straps to himself, he continued: “you had better be, all things considered.”

Nomin crawled into the back of the wain, situating herself among the produce that was planned to have been presented to the Dotharl. She did not want to well and truly test Esenaij's claim to venture forth without them. He certainly made no effort to wait in some cases in the past.

With everything packed and good to go, the journey to the site of the Dotharl started in earnest. Nomin admittedly was a bit too nervous to immediately strike up conversation with Esenaij for the start of the trip, though she enjoyed speaking with Barghujin and learning more about them. It was even more fun when Barghujin took the time to tell Nomin more about the upcoming season of spring and what to expect during the change of seasons for what the Sagahl are taught to forage for.

The more that Barghujin taught Nomin, the more that others joined in with little anecdotes and bits of their own advice about what types of vegetation were soon to start presenting the Steppe with their bounties. It was all to fill the otherwise silent venture, but Barghujin's enthusiasm seemed infectious. At least when it came to everyone other than Esenaij, who simply carried on, that stern expression ever present on his face. Though, that was simple enough to ignore, it seemed.

Three days into the trip, and the Sea of Blades finally started to transition from its verdant ocean of swaying grass to a more coarse and sandy spectacle. Nomin had seen the vast desert that donned the name ‘Nhaama’s Retreat’ once before that she could only scarcely remember. Its golden ivory sands stretched on and on, only cradled occasionally by the cliffs and mesas before they stopped, the sand seemingly stretching forever into the horizon.

“It's like it never ends!” Nomin exclaimed as she trotted alongside Bayarmaa. It had not been long that she departed the wain in order to exhaust her own energy and get it out of her system. Though with her exiting the wain, it seemed that Esenaij and the others had at least a good excuse to stop and recuperate for the time being.

“Some say it never does. Of course, those who travel Nhaama’s Retreat can assuredly say otherwise,” Bayarmaa replied, watching Nomin. “Try not to kick up too much of the sand though. You don't want it getting into your shoes.”

“Mhm!” Nomin was barely paying attention as she skipped ahead, giggling as the sand gave under her weight. She knelt down in the sand for a moment, running her fingers across the thousands upon thousands, if not millions upon millions of grains of sands. It felt good, feeling the warm and coarse sand underneath her fingertips -- it was hardly something she got to experience a lot, being more in the central plains of the Steppe.

While Nomin had been free to play in the sand away from everyone else, she was eventually called back to have some fruits and vegetables to help keep her energized for the rest of the journey ahead as well as make use of the provisions that had been brought before they went bad. Once she was snacking on some nuts and dried fruit pieces, Nomin sat on the back of the wain, her eyes scanning the desert sands. It remained barren for a time, at least until Nomin saw a traveling group of Xaela riding through the desert.

“Hm…” Keuken also took notice of the traveling group, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the beating sun. “Looks like the Urumet are making their way to their next migratory location now that the Naadam has come to a close.”

“Urumet? How can you tell from this distance? And who are the Urumet?” Nomin asked, continuing to eat her snacks while kicking her legs lightly off the side of the wain, her toes just barely scraping the top of the sand.

Keuken let a soft, amused huff out from his nose before he pointed a little past the front of the van. Crouching a bit so that he was more level with Nomin so that he could lead her eye, he made sure to direct her attention toward the riders who looked a little taller and oddly shaped. Keuken then said, “those members of the Urumet are carrying their elders upon their backs. They do this because the elders help see further so that nothing sneaks up on them, or so they can pick out a place for their migration site easier. Things like that.”

“Why don't we do that?” Nomin asked. Her question was met with a light chuckle from a couple of the others, which caused her tail to flick to the side slightly with a sense of annoyance and embarrassment. For a moment, she felt like the question she asked was not a good one.

“It’s taxing more than anything,” Barghujin replied, chuckling softly. Leaning on the side of the wain and displacing the weight somewhat, Barghujin shrugged and then shielded their eyes. “Besides, most elders have their eyesights starting to fail them if they need to be carried around like that. I’m not sure that relying on their eyes is too…well, reliable. Maybe the Urumet are different! Maybe they have better eyes!”

The comment elicited a couple chuckles from the others. Bayarmaa strode over, popping a piece of dried fruit into her mouth as she stared into the distance where the Urumet were traveling. She noted some of the members who were walking on foot. She was about to make a comment when Nomin asked yet another question.

“The children are carrying baskets on their backs, but it looks like some of them are struggling… What are they carrying that makes them look like that?” Nomin’s tone carried a sense of disbelief, and she looked over at Barghujin until she noticed Bayarmaa and looked at her instead for an answer.

“If I recall…some children train so that they can carry their elders on their backs one day when they're older. The woven baskets they carry are filled with bags of sand or grain. I think…sometimes stone, too.” Bayarmaa rolled her hand as she recalled what she could. “Seems too taxing to ask of children if you ask me, but some of the Urumet children I've seen in Reunion sometimes treat it like a game or competition.”

“But they'll be strong, surely?” Nomin replied, bringing another handful of nuts and fruit to her lips.

“If they train in moderation…” Daritai said, having finished his food and gotten his belongings put away to continue with travel. When Nomin looked over in Daritai's direction, she noticed him looking pointedly at Esenaij. “We've had plenty of experience watching people around us complain of poor back comfort for doing things for too long without proper rest and stretching that leads to constant back pain.”

It seemed Daritai's stare did not go unnoticed by Esenaij, either. Getting the harness of his wain situated back upon his person, Esenaij gave a ‘hmph’ before looking ahead once more. He did not start walking again, though he did say, “no need to look at me so intensely. If you have something to say, Daritai, say it. Though in this case, you need not worry about me. My back remains as strong as it ever has.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Daritai said with a dismissive shrug. “Let's hope it stays that way, then.”

With a final adjustment to his harness, Esenaij told Nomin to settle back onto the wain, all the while confirming with the others about continuing on till they had to stop for the night. Once everyone was ready to go and accounted for, it was on to traveling deeper through the desert.

[paintedscales]

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

Good morning (or afternoon / evening, pending!), Arina! Thank you so much for the ask! :> I hope that the week has been treating you well so far!

OC Asks: Not-so-Nice Edition

Well...hm...I've answered the topic of guilt for Nomin a lot scattered throughout different asks. So...I think I want to pivot and switch characters in this regard. Since I usually talk about my other Xaela characters on this blog as well, I'll go ahead and choose one of them.

Let's talk about Esenaij. He's mentioned a lot, and he's kind of who haunts Nomin's narrative quite a bit.

I imagine some of the things that ran through his mind as life slipped from him was that he was guilty about not spending more time with Bayarmaa, and then Nomin as well. He generally came across as hardened and stoic, and to Nomin, he seemed like he didn't really care about her, even though she was grateful for the life among the Sagahl she was granted thanks to him.

Esenaij took in Nomin because after finding out she was Tumet, he kind of just...resigned himself to the idea that she literally would have no one to turn to. He couldn't let her go out on her own -- not with as young as she was. Not to mention that her scales reminded him of his own biological sister's scales, which made him more empathetic knowing that they are scrutinized and cause for ridicule.

So...to not really make good on being a better person to Nomin (and even Bayarmaa), Esenaij definitely died with regrets.

As for how he handles it...I wrote one of my chapters where Bayarmaa actually calls him out on his behavior. He deflects and tends to avoid addressing it if he can. He doesn't like being told he's wrong, or that he's acting unreasonable. He's had to act like a provider since a young age, and it makes him really tired, and that just adds onto the guilt he felt that he can no longer resolve.

Excerpt under the cut.

“You are both infuriating!” Esenaij growled, furrowing his brow. “And you are turning into Father!” Bayarmaa snapped back. “There is no harm in letting Nomin come along, you just think you have to do everything yourself, and because of that, anyone else that wants to come along to help or learn is simply another obstacle for you to ignore! It’s impressive how Barghujin and the others don’t simply let you go off on your own without additional protection!” [...] The emotional miasma thickened as Bayarmaa stomped up to Esenaij and jabbed a finger sharply at his chest, however. Her jaw was set as she continued: “going out all the time, providing what you can, but never being here to create memories and times that matter! You hardly even spare the time to teach her things she wants to know! Like it or not, Nomin is part of our family now, and you are going to damn well act like it, by the blazing sunlight of Azim! Stop acting like you didn’t bring her here because part of you felt compassion or pity – maybe both! If you cared not, you wouldn’t have brought her here where it’s safe in the first place!” [...] Esenaij stood there for a long moment, glaring down at Bayarmaa. [...] “… Do as you will, then…” Esenaij finally replied, his voice cutting through the thickness that hung in the air whilst steeling himself to hide any visible crack of resignation. He turned for the door, one of his hands clenched into an irritated fist. When he reached the exit, he paused, soon saying in a gruff tone: “if you plan on coming, make yourselves hasty. I intend to leave in the next half bell when I’ve put all that I intend to bring to the Dotharl onto the wain.”