Steel and Silk


The town was in panic as the flames spread. Soldiers and citizens alike swarmed the streets and it seemed risky to carry Kuzeyli trough that throng of people. I looked around in the dark and found a small house where they kept their horses. I laid Kuzeyli down to rest on the horse blankets, hoping that familiar smells would help anchor her mind.

What she had seen had damaged her, not her body, but her mind and no wonder. I too was afraid. Sorcery on that magnitude was far beyond what I could hope to go up against, and the implication that he was somehow tied to what was happening back home terrified me. Not only due to what that might mean for the cult, but what it would mean for me personally; that sooner or later I would have to seek him out.

But at that moment Kuzeyli needed me and that had to come first. So we stayed there during the night, as I quietly told her about who she was, the things she had accomplished, times she had failed, as many stories as I could remember, hoping that it might help. It didn’t.

Morning came and went as we stayed there, hidden from sight. Armed men had begun patrolling the streets and so I thought it wise to wait until the coast was clear. Finally, towards the afternoon I began leading Kuzeyli through back alleys towards the lodge house where I had left the others. I spotted Zeynep through one of the windows, working alongside the slaves.

My worries were alleviated somewhat after having called out to her and she explained that she was working so she could continue stay there while waiting for me to return. It would seem as though Khurdan along with many other men left the city to avoid being conscripted to help with the aftermath of the fire. She did not know where he had gone but we did not doubt that he would return.

Although I understood Khurdan’s reasoning, it angered me that he would leave Zeynep behind in a hostile slave city. Who knows what could have happened to her during the chaos that ensued. It also meant that we were stuck in the city until Khurdan returned for us. It meant that we would have to work as slaves.

As I have travelled, I have and been a guest in many tents and houses and it is often understood that you don’t simply laze about and abuse someone’s hospitality, especially during extended visits. This was different though, these were people claiming ownership of people, and I would be helping them. I would stay there, and do the jobs required of me alongside their slaves and so the distinction between slavery and freedom would blur. But Kuzeyli needed us and she needed a place to rest, and so we got to work.

Days passed and Kuzeyli’s condition improved but not by much. She had started speaking again but only a few words, seemingly strung along at random; she spoke of bears, spirits and rats, things that frightened her. I moved her into the stable so that she could reunite with Epona, hoping that perhaps she could help her where I could not.

Although she had a positive reaction to her, it seemed more instinct than anything else. I had returned her sword to her, but she refused to grasp it and I felt a growing fear that what she had witnessed had truly broken something inside of her, perhaps beyond repair. I cursed myself for my lack of knowledge. I did not know how to mend a spirit once broken, I only knew enough to see and understand her pain, but not to do anything about it; just enough to be useless.

Never before had I been more aware of my ineptitude in my craft. When my sister truly needed the help of a shaman, all I could do was to watch over her impotently. The spirits remained silent within these stone walls and a creeping melancholy had begun to worm itself into my mind. I was trapped within these claustrophobic walls and forced to work alongside the slaves, Hyperborean and family alike. In some ways, working alongside other Khazari was worse; there were no promises of escape I could make them and worse yet, I was unsure if all of them would accept freedom even if I could offer it.

It was… a difficult time for me, which seemed petty when my sister suffered far worse, and so I made an effort not to make it show. I had to appear calm as best I could, not only for Kuzeyli but perhaps more importantly for Zeynep. She was a strong girl, but it was likely this was even more disconcerting to her than it was to me. Because of this, I made sure to watch over her, to make time to talk to her when she wished and was hopefully able to provide some support to her at least.

So the days continued until a Hyperborean man, the one the sorcerer had marked for death, visited the establishment. It was clear he was some sort of lord and he quickly got the attention of the matron of the place. I could not understand but I recognized their word for Khazari and eventually the matron pointed him in the direction of the stable, where Kuzeyli was resting.

I went after him and saw him kneeling next to her with an intimacy he had no right to. He spoke to her quietly in his tongue and made to hang an amulet on her. I could not stand idle any longer and challenged him to stand down, my bared blade pointing at his amulet. I did not know its meaning, but I recognized it. I had seen my father use it once during one of his more powerful rituals. All I knew was that it was somehow tied to a dark god and that was all I needed to know, given these people’s devotion to such gods and their magicks, I wanted Kuzeyli to have nothing more to do with it than she had already suffered through.

He seemed to understand my meaning if not my words and dropped his amulet next to Kuzeyli. He spoke to her one final time and her eyes focused on him, a noteworthy feat for her current state, and whispered something to him. The man then spoke with the matron and arranged for her to be guarded, despite my objections.

After he left, I went back over to Kuzeyli. It was clear that she trusted that man, despite her better judgement and so, since she seemed willing to try, I offered to use the amulet he had left her. If it held any dark powers, at least it would go through me first. I picked up the amulet and studied its symbol further, there was no doubt that it contained power but to trap that power, a power with a connection with a dark god in permanent metal was yet another example of Hyperborean hubris.

It was that hubris, the one that made them think to tame not only people but the spirits and gods themselves that would inevitably bring doom upon them… and us if we let them. The power within the amulet felt strangely familiar as I guided it and placed it on Kuzeyli’s chest. I held my breath, preparing to rip it away should anything happen, but nothing did.

We stayed that way for some time but I could not sense any stirrings of power or any effect, neither good or ill, on Kuzeyli. More days passed and there was no visible improvement. Finally Khurdan returned and seemed surprised to find that we had not gone to find him. Apparently he had given Zeynep a landmark to meet up at, but it was too vague for her to even recognize that he meant it as a meetup place.

I explained the situation and he told us that he had heard rumors of a Hyperborean wise woman who had treated Kuzeyli’s wound. I felt ill at ease at the thought of entrusting Kuzeyli to a Hyperborean but it was not my choice to make. I asked her and although her mind was still feeble, she was still able to choose her own way forward, like a true Khazari. She chose to place her faith in the woman and so we honored her wishes and set out. The guards the slaver lord had placed did not intervene but the matron gave us some meat to take with us, presumably on the slaver lord’s orders.

It was not a long ride to the village and the woman was easy enough to find. She recognized Kuzeyli and greeted us in Khazari. I explained what had happened to her and what she said was far from comforting. She told us there was no medicine or treatment that would help her, the only thing she could do would require witchcraft.

I should perhaps have slain her then and there at that and I almost did. I would have, had she been Khazari. No life, not even Kuzeyli’s could justify tainting ourselves with that power, but this was Hyperborea, it was already corrupt as it was and I had no obligation to cleanse it for them.

Not slaying her was one thing, allowing her to use her craft on my sister was another. My sister seemed worried and looked to me for answers, for guidance and once again, my limited knowledge was useless. I have never wandered The Great Plains myself, I have not learned its secrets and so I could not judge the nature of her rite beyond the fact that it was blood magic. Normally that should have been enough, it is one of the most vile forms of magic, it was blood magic but not in the form of a sacrifice but as a focus. I… did not know what that would mean, for the rite itself and for Kuzeyli. In the end I was unable to advise her and my sister was left to choose her path forward herself.

After a brief uncertainty she pushed her doubts aside and agreed to let the woman use her crafts on her. Even with her mind and spirit mangled as they were, her resolve remained strong. Or, a darker thought told me, anything, even the risk of damnation was preferable to her current state.

The witch had Khurdan bury her in snow and then poured something in her mouth. I studied the rite on the sideline in case I had to intervene or to slay the old crow. At first, nothing happened. Her breathing slowed and right as I began to fear the worst, Kuzeyli burst out of the snow as if reborn. Perhaps she had been.

She was not healed, far from it, that would take time, but she had returned to us. Changed yes, but that was a given considering what she had been through and I could only hope the witch’s sorcery had not altered her beyond that. My misgivings aside, I was simply glad to have my sister returned to me. She told me that she never doubted that I would come for her, even if it had been too late. It was a bittersweet reunion.

I told her what had happened after she lost consciousness and she in turn told me about the sorcerer. It was far worse than I imagined; she told me that he was the one who had kept big sister Jeshid a prisoner for all this time and that he was using his magic to try and break her will.

Grigori Yefimov was his name and the thought of facing him terrified me. I feel no shame in admitting that. If I had learned anything since our encounter, it was that my understanding of my craft was laughably lacking and Yefimov was clearly a master of his. But I looked at my sister’s drained but still proud face and I thought of Jeshid, still struggling against that monster and the fear I felt for myself was swiftly overcome by that of losing my family to that man. I might not be a true shaman, but that was merely an excuse. It was to protect my family against threats like him that I had chosen this path to begin with. We would seek him out and if possible, I would make sure that my sister would not have to face him a second time.

But it was possible that we would not have to seek him out alone. It would seem as though during her stay with the Hyperborean slaver lord, she had suggested that they joined forces. The thought of joining forces with a man like that was anathema to me, but making sure that we end Yefimov was too important to ignore help offered to us. Especially if it was the difference between going there to face him alone as opposed to doing so alongside an army.

Before returning to the city to speak with him, we had to go and seek out Manduhai but before leaving I asked the witch about the amulet the slave lord had left behind. She was surprised to hear that I didn’t know, given my name. It was the sign for The Heart of Ahriman, a sign, supposedly for both life and death.

I had been named after a god, a dark one at that? Why and why had I not been told? Names had power and knowing my father it was obvious it was not a decision he had made by chance or on impulse. I had scorned the Hyperboreans for their hubris in forming a link to the gods using metal, but had my father done so using a person, using his son? What were you hoping to achieve with me father?

We travelled largely in silence, all of us having much to think on until we finally reached the place where we had set up our ambush. That was when I noticed that someone seemed to have had the same idea. A man had been hiding in a tree and began to alert his companions as he saw us coming. I readied myself and yelled out to him and to my surprise, Manduhai was the one who called back.

After the successful raid on one of the villages most of the freed men and women had split off, to return to where they came from. But some had apparently stayed behind and joined Manduhai as their chief. It was perhaps a bit too small a group to call it a proper tribe, especially since even some Hyperboreans had joined the mix, but she seemed satisfied. They had taken up banditry while waiting for our return and it was clear that they had done well for themselves.

Manduhai had taken her role as chief seriously and followed customs more closely than most khagans. She presented us with gifts and arranged for us to have places of honour around the campfire. We told her what had happened and why we had been slow in returning. I also took this opportunity to try and explain the situation more clearly to make sure they knew what they were getting themselves into.

I had asked them to join me in a quest to save a queen of our people from one of the most fortified places in Hyperborea. It was understandable why it was described as a suicide mission. Yefimov had changed things. It was one thing to ask your family to risk their lives, but another to risk their very souls.

I do not believe I am a coward, I do not fear death or even truly slavery since I know I will die free and that in death I will simply begin a new journey alongside my ancestors. Sorcery changes that; it can enslave you in not just this life but bind your spirit for eternity. That I do fear and it would be unforgivable not to warn the others of this danger.

Still, none of them wavered. Yefimov could bleed and die like any other man, and that he would. We spoke no more of it and instead ate and drank, watching Kuzeyli test the mettle of Mandhai’s warriors. I smiled despite everything; I was relieved to see her taking up her sword again.

Finally we settled in for the night with Kuzeyli sharing my tent. She spoke some of what she had experienced and I noted that she had been prone to speak of herself in the plural form and more and more she had begun to use the expression of ‘we do what we must’. I warned her of this, her mind was still recovering and therefore it was all the more important for her not to let memories of the past bleed into the present. She had to focus on who she is, not on what others had been. I also cautioned her of the new expression she had picked up. That is the rationale of slaves, not of free men and women. We do not do things because we must, but because we chose to do it. I hope she takes that to heart.

We left early the next day, with Manduhai’s men alongside us. We decided to camp in the witch’s village and once there we found the slaver lord and his men. Kuzeyli rode up to meet him, presumably to explain the situation. I stayed behind, observing them and while I did not understand the language, there was little to misunderstand about the man’s attempt at seduction.

I threw the man’s amulet to him, drawing his attention. I had wrapped it in cloth to make sure it didn’t hang out in the open. I tried to explain to him, hoping Kuzeyli would translate that using the amulet frivolously was dangerous and might well have been how Yefimov had found him with his sorcery in the first place.

The man stopped Kuzeyli from translating and instead answered me in horribly broken Khazari and thanked me for returning the amulet and how it was precious to him. I stared at him in mute disbelief, even more so considering he seemed to take pride in answering in my tongue.

He had entirely disregarded my warning and had without missing a beat moved on to his flirtations with Kuzeyli, asking her to teach him our language.

The man who would be leading the army and who we would be forced to rely on, was an idiot.

A Mind Broken

The darkness surrounded me. I say me, but at the time, there was no me. There was just the void. A void caught between the frozen lands of the north and the desert lands of the south. Who am I? What am I? These questions invaded my mind. I could no longer answer them. Even if I tried, all I would hear was Yefimov. What does it matter? We’re done for, he’s too strong.

Ahriman? He’s saying something. “I am here little sister. It will be alright.” I knew he’d come, eventually… But was he too late? What happened? I can’t move. But does it matter? Epona… How I’ve missed you. Did he win? I am done for? Vashka, he seems alright, worried.

My mind is returning slowly… But it’s not enough. Vashka suggested the witch, Ahriman hesitantly suggested it again, asking me to choose. Why should I choose? I need air, I need to get out of this town. I agreed. The witch had me buried in snow, and she… Awoke my blood.

Flashes of a time long gone. My kin, my ancient bloodline. There is magic in this blood, it’s been used and abused… We’ve used and abused it. No. They have. My mind has been filled with a sense of we, but I am Khazari, our individuality is not so easily broken. I am what I must be, what I always had to be. I am strong. Even in the face of those who would break me. My hand still hesitates before grasping the hilt of my sword. My sword, Bataar’s sword… Did Ahriman find it? Of course he did. I am still frightened… of what the sorcerer is capable of, of sorcery itself. Ahriman tells me this is natural. He tells of the spirit bear, Araataan, that scared me so long ago, back when I thought nothing could scare me. So naïve… How did Ahriman resist… How does he steel his mind? I must know… I cannot survive that again. If we are to face this sorcerer, I must know.

Manduhai was due south, we left to meet up with her. She had gathered a merry band of thugs and highwaymen. If we were bringing them, I wanted to know if they could stand up to trained soldiers, so I asked them to show me what they had. It also helps me not think about what happened… They were weak, compared to Vashka’s men. This force would not be enough, we needed an army.

Therefor, we returned towards Vashka, he has an army. After what happened, there is not doubt in me that he will aid us. We met with him in the village of the witch. He agreed to aid us, saying that it will take time to gather the army, that we would gather it on the way.

Something Familiar... Something Unfamiliar

Something Familiar… Something Unfamiliar

As a child my mother told me stories of the grand cities and towns of Hyperborea, but it did not prepare for the share… Unnecessity? Is that even a word? The Hyperboreans seem to be very excessive in their use of space and buildings. I recall my father saying that: “Hyperboreans have buildings for everything.”, Khurdan mentioned something similar while making the sauna-thing. Khurdan… I wonder how they are all doing? Zeynep… Manduhai… Ahriman. Ahriman is with them, they’re fine. When we reached the town center, or whatever they called it… -Square? Maybe-, Vashka had his horse sacrificed. This was in order to appease the Gods, or somesuch. The whole display was somewhat violent and seemingly needless. We horsemen and -women honour our horses. However, we do sacrifice to the ancestors and spirits, so I can’t in good conscience call this barbaric. Gruesome as it was. His men asked him whether or not to sacrifice for the Dark God as well. This made my stomach turn… Why? I didn’t press the subject. I am lost in a foreign world, I have more pressing matters than the barbarism of my current party.

Vashka met with the mayor, and Vashka discussed the slaves he acquired from his raid. He invited me to join him, but I declined. I was to be looked after by Veliky, Vashka’s captain. I felt like trapped in a cage… I was free… But not free. I could leave, but I understood that leaving would be problematic… I don’t know. I didn’t feel free. It was, unfortunately, a familiar feeling. I didn’t want to bother Veliky from his usual duties, so I decided to follow him, instead of the other way around. His path took him past the soldiers training. I was reminded of the first time I met Bataar. I was watching my brothers practicing, while swinging, clumsily, a stick around. He walked up to me and with only few words he scooted my feet, telling me about the importance of a good stance. He told me saw potential in me… That from now on, he’d look after me. Bishtak smiled, so I did too, in all my innocence. This was, thus, somewhat familiar. I had often followed Bataar as he trained some of the Ondarians. My knowledge and ability made me able to see the weaknesses of their stances, their swings, how they held their swords. During dinner I spoke with one of his soldiers, named Onfim. These people seem very different than the ones I’ve faced in combat. They are still slavers… They have slaves taking care of them.

I had been asked where I was to stay. I am a soldier… My brother, Aldin-chaa, told me ones, a long time ago, that bastard or not, I am a princess… But I have never seen myself as anything of the kind… I am a soldier. Thus, I slept in the barracks with the other soldiers, and, eventually, Vashka. A high ranking man, as himself, staying in the barracks with his men. I can see why they respect him so. Nobody dared take the bed next to me, another familiar feeling. I may be a soldier first… But me being a woman becomes very apparent in these situations. I am one of the soldiers, yet a bit of an anomaly… I don’t actually know what it means, but big sister Vashtu said that to me ones. Vashka’s meeting ran until very late. I was roused as he entered. He asked one of the men to remain awake, and wake him should anything happen. As Vashka laid down on the bed next to him I asked him if there was something wrong. He said it was a worry. Paranoia? Perhaps… I didn’t want to push the subject at the time, so I dropped it.

The next morning one thing kind of led to another, I ended up dueling Vashka. Due to my arm, I used my left hand. Vashka, seemingly a man of honour, switched hands as well. It was not a long duel. In fact, it ended within few moments. The way he came at me… If I didn’t trust him, I would’ve buckled. He is that terrifying. He did push me back, I landed on my ass, but I managed to deflect his sword. I riposted like I’ve done a thousand times, my blade could have reached him. For some reason I was excited… I have sparred a great many times. It was a different feeling than with Bataar. When sparring with Bataar I never believed I could win, so when I did I was always equally surprised… But now… I didn’t want to lose. As I once told Bataar “I draw my sword when I must, I don’t enjoy it, but it is what I am good at.” But is this… Was that fun? Maybe. After this we had breakfast with the soldiers, and they seemed quite taken with my riposte technique. I told Onfim, and the others around me, the basics. I remember what Bataar told me “Beat this into your head… Read the opponent… Anticipate his action. For when you attack, you’re at the most vulnerable.”

Vashka had set up to meet with Marik, a fur trader, who may know about Ahriman and the others. When we met with him, he seemed to mostly have rumours that lead to little but speculation. But it was something… My heart was racing, but it was all letdown after letdown.

Evening came, and nothing. How long would I have stay here? I got up and went towards the window when… Rat. Another rat. Rats everywhere. They were pouring in through the window. I shouted for Vashka, but his was not the name on my mind. Ahriman! What is this?! … Ahriman? My minds are playing tricks on me A shadow burst in through the window, the movements… The fighting style, it looks like… It could be. Ahriman. I never doubted you, brother! He quickly thought of a way to deal with the swarm. But, in doing so it seems antagonized something on the other end… What is that? Who is… Grigori Yefimov. I— I can feel him in my mind. Wha—

A Wretched Hive of Scum and Sorcery

Manduhai led the free men and women on their raid while the rest of us continued our journey to the city Kuzeyli had supposedly been taken to. Khurdan thought it best to avoid the open road and so we travelled in silence through the woods. Perhaps that was for the best, the elation of our victory followed by the bitter realization that Kuzeyli was not among the captives seemed to have made us all less talkative.

A few days passed and then finally we stood outside the walls of a city made of stone. There was a coldness to the place that had nothing to do with the change in season. I could not feel the presence of any spirits within those walls.

I did not know what to expect as we walked up towards the gate, would they attack us on sight? Would I need to kneel and beg for information on Kuzeyli? I resolved myself to do what needed to be done, and followed Khurdan as he approached the city guards.

A series of barked conversations in Hyperborean followed, with Khurdan showcasing animal hides and asking for directions as we were allowed inside. Everywhere you looked around the city were either more walls or more houses, it was as if these people enjoyed walling themselves off from one another. It eventually led us to a hot and smelly house where hunters and tradesmen seemed to go to eat and drink.

We entered and it did not take long before we attracted unpleasant looks from the men gathered inside. Khurdan seemed to pay no heed to the attraction we were getting and simply called for a man he thought might provide us with answers.

As we waited, a coldness settled in deep in my stomach as I looked around the room. There were slaves everywhere. As much as I had tried to prepare myself mentally to do whatever I had to in order to find Kuzeyli, seeing my brothers and sisters serving the people there was enough to fill me with despair. I wanted to go to them, to free them, to take them with me back to Khazari lands… But I couldn’t.

Freeing Algidir’s people was one thing, but attempting a rescue from within the city walls would not be possible. The walls served their purpose and trapped them here and there was nothing I could do for them. Instead I had to focus on Kuzeyli, hating myself for it.

Eventually a fat man covered in layers of furs greeted Khurdan and after a short exchange in Hyperborean, they began speaking Khazari. In exchange for some pelts, he would provide us with food and lodging as well as answering my questions.

I asked him about Kuzeyli, where she had been taken and how she was doing. After asking around he claimed several things, some of which were obvious lies, such as her sacrificing a horse in the name of a heathen slaver god. The man also claimed that she was not wounded after all and that she was a guest at the city mayor’s estate.

I did not know what to believe and what to discount entirely, but he seemed quite certain that she was at least being kept within the mayor’s estate. The question would then be how to get inside, but that was something we would have to figure out in the morning.

And so we ate and drank and made our way to sleep. We tried finding a place on the floor at least mostly devoid of drunken Hyperboreans and made to settle in for the night. I made sure to position myself next to Zeynep, both as a form of bulwark and a signal to the other men. And so I uneasily drifted into sleep.

I awoke with a start. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. I could feel it even if I couldn’t see the source. The room was dark, the house’s stone walls prevented the light from the stars from seeping in. A suffucating instinctual dread of the things lurking in the dark enveloped me.

I turned to look to my friends but they were still sleeping peacefully. That’s when I saw it, a rat. Something normally innocuous and not worth notice, but there was no mistake, someone or something was inside of it, looking at me through its eyes. One pair of yellow glowing eyes stared at me with an unnerving intelligence behind it. Then I saw another pair of eyes, then another.

I woke Khurdan and warned him of the situation. I didn’t have time to explain, he didn’t need to understand. I simply had to warn him of the rats. I didn’t dare move my gaze from them. They began to move, heading for the window. The creatures managed to open the window by themselves, I went after them knife in hand but I was too slow. What I saw as I looked out shook me to my core. It was not just two or three, there were hundreds of them, all heading away from me. Heading to what the Fat Hyperborean had claimed to be the mayor’s estate. The place where Kuzeyli was being kept.

I ran out after them but they were difficult to follow in the dark and I lost sight of them as I reached the wall (another one) sectioning off the mayors estate. As I began looking for a way around, I heard Kuzeyli scream. There was no time to think, I would not abandon her a second time.

I ran and leapt over the walls, but I misjudged the distance in the dark and fell down on the ground with a soft crunch. Something had dampened my fall. Rats, hundreds of them were swarming the house in front of me. Some of them tried to climb up and bite me, but I managed to shake off the worst of them as I ran towards the house.

Screams of battle and of panic blasted from the room as I crashed through one of the windows and was faced by a scene taken out of nightmares. A never ending tide of rats spewed forth into the room and I was amazed to see that they had seemingly not managed to kill anyone yet. The cause was clear however, Kuzeyli, unarmored but unwavering stood surrounded by rats and held back the tide with sheer grit and determination. But even skill and bravery such as Kuzeyli’s would only halt them for so long.

A Hyperborean man hefting a large broadsword swung his blade dangerously close to her and my instincts and adrenaline screamed at me to slay him and take Kuzeyli away from him and this place, but this was not the time for instincts or fear to guide my actions. I had to think.

Blades would not win this fight, there were too many of them. This was not something we should aim to defeat; it was something we had to hope to survive. I looked across the room and saw several oil lamps. Fire, the cleanser of all things; be it man, spirit or beast.

I tossed one of the lamps towards one of the walls where a large group of the rats were gathering and they were set ablaze with a satisfying shriek. The Hyperborean man seemed to catch on and directed the others in the room to do the same.

They helped spreading the fire but their actions were still largely panicked and lacked the discipline and coordination required to break the horde. One of them tried to escape the room which would provide the rats with another entry point, allowing them to attack us from behind as well. I stopped the fool, driving a knife into the door he tried to open to make my point across.

I turned to Kuzeyli who unsurprisingly was the only other person in the room thinking clearly. I began explaining about the fire, how we could use it to break the hold the sorcerer had on them. I had not gotten far when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

The fool man almost killed me as I had my back turned. I managed to evade the blow but there was no time for a response. The rats and the smoke from the fire seemed to merge with one another and through it formed the shape of a man. Although I did not understand his words, I did not need to. With a surge of power, he sentenced the man with the broadsword to death.

The sheer force and the… wrongness of it flooded the room. I held onto my amulet and strengthened my mind as best I could, letting the horror wash over me. It was difficult; it was everything my father had taught and warned me about and more. The previous encounter with the cultists could not hope to prepare me for it but I followed my father’s teaching and focused only on reminding myself of who I was, keeping that image clear and inalienable, not allowing it to be changed by what I had felt and witnessed. I took strength in that and it allowed me to see the strain casting that spell had caused sorcerer, and how it caused his hold on the rats to weaken.

Kuzeyli had fared worse, having caught the brunt of it and had reverted into a similar state of hopeless abandon as when she first encountered Araataan. She threw the remaining alcohol and spread the flames, disregarding her own preservation entirely, saving the doomed man in the process. And with that final act of defiance it was as if the strings keeping her up were cut and she became catatonic.

The flames had scattered the brunt of the rats and I rushed to her before the fire claimed her as well. She gave no sign of recognition but I cradled her as best I could as I dragged her out of the burning building.

Finally emotions that I had bottled up since she was taken resurfaced and the façade of calm cracked with it. As tears poured down my cheeks I simply repeated, over and over, as much to myself as to her:

“I am here little sister. It will be alright. “

Separation Anxiety

Khurdan led us towards the fort until he suddenly stopped. He noticed signs that people had been in these woods quite recently. The idea that whoever had wandered around might return and flank us during the attack worried him and so we decided to track them down first and then spring the attack.

As we got closer, Manduhai and I snuck closer and saw three Hyperboreans hidden away around a small campfire. As we were readying the attack, alarm signals began sounding from the fort. The enemy were readying themselves for us, which could only mean that Kuzeyli had been found. We had no more time to play things cautiously and so Manduhai and I swept in and immediately slew two of them, infuriatingly enough one of them managed to get away, yelling and screaming as he did so.

There was no time to waste in running after him, especially if he was calling for allies. We turned and joined the others, hoping against hope we would be in time to save Kuzeyli. We weren’t. As we stepped out of the forest, I saw on top of a grotesque stone building as tall as a small mountain, Kuzeyli being surrounded and quickly overcome. Increasingly desperate plans of how to rescue her were forming in my mind, first of which would be to save the captives, archery fire be damned. As I readied myself, a warhorn blew in the distance and with it came a large group of mounted Hyperboreans. It seemed we were not the only ones to have taken notice of the unguarded fort. The man who got away must have gotten the others to spring their attack.

Thoughts of facing the riders filled my head, a defiant last stand where we stood tall to fight both sides of the conflict and to save Kuzeyli or die trying. But that was once again the coward in me making himself known. It would have been easy to ignore the responsibility I had and find a good death on those fields instead of doing everything in my power for us to succeed; even if it meant abandoning Kuzeyli.

Abandoning Kuzeyli… the realization came to me slowly and the weight of it almost drove me to my knees. There was no hope of victory. Even if we managed to free the captives, they would simply be ridden down by the enemy cavalry along with myself and the rest of the group. No, our only hope was to fall back before being discovered. But I would come for her, I had made that oath and I would keep it.

Days passed without much being said. A cloud hung over the group and we were all reminded of the risk each day here meant for us. Self-doubt tried to worm its fangs in to me, if only we had gone with the idea of infiltrating during the night, then the enemy attack would have sprung and Kuzeyli wouldn’t have been caught. That and many other similar thoughts of how we could have done things differently assaulted me but I never voiced them and I tried to fight them off when they surfaced. Kuzeyli deserved better than to second guess her choices and it was arrogant of me to feel guilt or responsibility for her. She was a free woman and her choices were hers and hers alone to make. I knew that, I did, but it didn’t lessen the pain of having my sister taken from me.

What was important therefore was taking her back. Our only hope was that while the Hyperboreans fought over that abominable stone house of theirs, they would send their slaves away from the fighting. A so called ‘slave train’ would form and would likely be lightly guarded. We would strike at it hard, free Kuzeyli and the slaves and accomplish our goal that way.

A few days passed and we were in luck, the captives were beings sent off towards a nearby city. Khurdan had scouted the area and concluded we had two options, either ambush them in a canyon or wait until they made camp for the night in a nearby village and free them while the guards were bust drinking and whoring. Manduhai interjected a third option, to face them on the open field and fight in honourable combat. I respected her pride, but it would only lead to unnecessary losses, I did not fight for honour but for my people, putting them at risk unnecessarily was out of the question. I didn’t like the idea of launching the attack at night either. There were too many unknowns for a plan like that and too many things that could go wrong in the dark.

So we settled on the ambush with Manduhai compromising in attacking the enemies from behind on horseback. We settled in and waited. As the enemy leader rode right below be, I leapt down on him, severing his head from his body with one knife, then making a show of impaling the head with the other. I did not speak their language but that did not mean I could not make myself understood.

The sight of their leader’s unblinking gaze and a free Khazari with steel in hand was enough to unman them and break their spirits. They surrendered and with Manduhai performing a heavy assault on the remaining guard from the back, the battle was over within seconds and without and casualties.

It was a fine victory that was further sweetened with Khurdan being reunited with his brother in law, Algidir, and Khurdan giving a heartfelt declaration of freedom. There was only one thing missing… Kuzeyli was nowhere to be found.

When questioned, one of the guards who had surrendered explained through Zeynep that a blonde warrior had been freed by the invading Hyperboreans but due to her wounds she had been taken to a healer in a nearby city.

I could not imagine why the Hyperboreans would do something like that but the man seemed too frightened to be lying. We knew our destination, the question then became what to do with the freed captives. Things seemed more complicated than I had expected, Khazari and Hyperboreans having bonded during captivity despite their better judgement and there were several men and women with clearly mixed heritage. It was clear that simply dividing the captives between Khazari and Hyperboreans would not be work.

Algidir suggested raiding one of the nearby villages for supplies and clothes and then they could all choose their own paths afterwards. This seemed like a fine plan but they would need help and I was no warrior or leader. Brave Manduhai stepped up and volunteered to lead the attack while I went to find and save Kuzeyli from the Hyperboreans.

As if the spirits were guiding us in the right direction, as we looted the guards for weapons in preparation for the attack I saw Kuzeyli’s sword strapped to the leader I had killed.

Just a little longer now, hold on. I will come for you.

Enemy Territory

Kuzeyli, always thinking about her friends, arranged a bath for us. It was a genuinely nice gesture and after our talk last night I suspected it was largely meant to help us relax. She’s a good friend.

Zeynep went in first and her naked form quickly drew the attention of the male audience. She was a beautiful young girl and even Khurdan took note. I was not beyond some curiosity myself but my father had been… thorough in his instruction of not entertaining thoughts of intimacy before becoming a true shaman and thus having the knowledge necessary to train my offspring. As such, my gaze did not linger long.

Although she made no outward show of it, I could tell that Zeynep was uncomfortable with the attention she was receiving and so I decided to steer Khurdan and his friend’s attention towards the keep. We had decided to save our brothers and sisters and so we needed as much information as possible before going there. Khurdan was not very optimistic about the idea but he and his friend told me what they knew.

When Zeynep had finished bathing it was Manduhai’s turn. In truth, her form was harder to ignore. In many ways it embodied what it meant to be Khazari, strong, proud, defiant and uncowed. Perhaps it was due to our conversation the night before but I took notice of it more so than I had before.

Still my conversation continued and soon it was Kuzeyli’s turn. She could not help the way she looked, I knew better than most that beneath that pale exterior lived a spirit as proud and defiant as any other. Many it seemed had never taken the time to learn that, in truth, had the attack on the Valley of Fire not happened then I likely would not have either. The remnants of that attitude could be seen across her skin. Her scars, especially the old ones were different from mine, they were not from training or rituals but from random acts of cruelty.

Finally it was my turn. I was surrendering my clothes and weapons and stepped naked into the water. I appreciated Kuzeyli’s attempt at making us relax, but I at least could not bring myself to relax while unarmed and surrounded by Hyperboreans. Despite understanding this, Kuzeyli did her best and helped to wash my hair, reaffirming her support.

Finally it was Khurdan’s turn and to my surprise he asked for my assistance. I was glad, despite everything, Khurdan’s mood had slowly been shifting towards the better. Perhaps drinking himself into oblivion was indeed what he needed although I suspected it wasn’t the only thing.

When Khurdan was finished I left the others to head out on my own. Kuzeyli was right, I had to calm myself before we reached the fort and for that to be possible I had to stop viewing everything as enemy territory. Nature, at least, should not be my enemy.

I sat down a bit away from the village and tried to familiarize myself with the environment. The trees there were different, so were the birds’ songs, and the wind’s whispers. There were plants and animals whose name I did not know and smells I couldn’t identify. The spirits were different there, I didn’t know them and they didn’t know me either.

I sat there for several hours. It was a tense experience, I was still very much an outsider and the spirits made that known, but we had learned some of the other and when I once again opened my eyes, my surroundings seemed less alien than they had before. Dusk had settled and I made my way back to my friends to prepare for the next day.

The night continued without further incident and we set out early the next morning. Kuzeyli, Manduhai and Zeynep all wore Hyperborean clothes while I and Khurdan wore our own. Khurdan’s clothes were at least as suitable to face the winter as the hyperborean’s and as for my own… they were my clothes. They showed who and what I was. Much like the ‘Mammoth’s spirit’ there was strength to draw from that and I felt that as our journey would take us further and further away from home, we would need all the strength we could get.

We set out and made our way through the forest. During the morning on the second day I heard the sounds of a brief sword fight nearby. We decided to wait until we were sure that the coast was clear and then went out to investigate. Two men, likely the Hyperborean lord’s scouts, had been killed.

It was hard to see the reason behind their murder, and it was also not of particular interest. The Hyperboreans could well kill themselves as best they pleased, as for us, we decided to steal one of the men’s outer clothes to use as a disguise. During our planning for the attack, it was clear that our biggest obstacle in freeing the slaves were the archers on top of the fort. So far we had only reached two plans that we felt had any real chance of success. One would task me to climb the fort walls during the night, slay those I could while opening the gate to let the others in or have Kuzeyli infiltrate them as one of their own. Both would be risky and as the rain continued to fall, making any attempts at climbing rock more difficult, we had settled with Kuzeyli’s idea of infiltration.

And so Kuzeyli donned the dead man’s clothes after washing them in the stream and we closed in on the fort. Kuzeyli would go alone straight for the fort while Khurdan led us around to approach the worker lodges on the other side.

We all knew the fight ahead would be dangerous and that we might not live through it, but Kuzeyli was risking most of all. Death was the least of her worries. My final words to her were that whatever happens, I would come for her.

I would not let her die a slave.

Stoic to a Fault

I feel like it could have gone worse. Not by much. I mean the stairs was not a place to fight. I did need to get to the archers. I fought somewhat poorly, though given the situation… Pretty well. When that captain asked me who I was, and who I was working for. I don’t know why Marshal Vashka came to mind… How was that better? Well, now I’m sitting here… In a cell. The pain in my arm is overshadowed by my will to escape. They missed my knife… That will be their downfall. Well, I should probably hesitate when the door opens, what if it’s Ahriman? Who knows what that man is capable of. When the opportunity reveals itself, I will be ready.

I don’t know how long I had to wait. But eventually I heard footsteps, so I sprung up hitting my wound to give me a jolt. I grasped the knife, and stood ready. The door swung open. But no one entered. My heart skipped a beat. Ahriman… It has to be. A voice came out of the hallway. No… It was not Ahriman. It was Marshal Vashka. I was sure this was how I died. Failing them. But I held my knife, took a breath into the shit drenched air around me. If I go down, I’ll go down fighting. Except… He said he wanted to thank me. Thank me? What? As it turned out, due to my statement that I was with Marshal Vashka, some of the soldiers of the keep had taken the opportunity to desert. I was greeted as a hero, of sorts. I had been through this dance before, but this time I felt that my suspicions were well founded. I’m in enemy land, an enemy stronghold even. Boyar Belgaru or Marshal Vashka… Does not matter. He seemed honourable, but was still a Hyperborean slaver. I’ll play along, but sooner or later, I need to escape. He offered me food and drinks. I… I am ashamed to admit that my hunger lead me to indulge. It was not until me head started getting woozy that I realised my mistake. Poison… How did I not see this coming?! I stumbled back, and toppled over. Preslav rushed up to me. Get away! I tried to fight him, but strength was leaving my body. What did he say? I was wounded. Well, yeah! So what? My sight blackened before I could hear what he said.

I woke up in a place I did not know. I saw a person I did not know. I felt a pain I knew, however. My wound had been treated. It’s burning… Similar to our medicine, but this is Hyperborean witchcraft. I spoke to the woman, whom I learnt was a sort of Hyperborean Shaman. She said that I was not poisoned, but in fact my wound had been infected. Oh right… Open wound, in a shit and piss drenched cell, all night… Perhaps… Maybe she’s telling the truth. I felt a bit silly. I’ve always had an easy time hiding my pain, much the chagrin of my childhood tormentors. But perhaps… This is not a time, nor a place to hide such things. My people seeing me as a strong warrior is all I have. But pride alone will not be enough to survive out here. I can open that door… To Ahriman, Zeynep… Not Manduhai… Not yet. I liked this woman. At least after she said she wasn’t actually a witch, thinking that made my skin crawl. Before I could get better acquainted with my predicament Marshal Vashka arrived. Now that I was getting a better non-woozy look at him. He looks… Good. Strong. Determined. Honourable. Kind. Kind? What? I got up, and it wasn’t until he commented my body, that I realised that I was bare. Such things don’t bother me. I’ve feigned being bothered, as it puts people off not to be. But I… I didn’t mind him. We spoke of what was happening, and the current state of Hyperborean society, and his thoughts on it. I don’t know why… But I trusted him. He reminded me of my father… Baatar? Yes. Bishtak? Yes?… No. He reminded me of myself. I opened my mouth, and out came… All of it. I could’ve told him everything. Anything. But, I managed to filter it. I did not tell him who I truly was, until it seemed like he would aid us against the sorcerer… SORCERER! Grigori Yefimov… I learnt his name, and what he did to make sure that Jeshid would remain in Hyperborean lands… I must tell Ahriman. Ahriman… Where are you? No… I can’t count on Ahriman, I am far afield… I’m in a cottage who knows where… Vashka seems to allow me to leave and find my friends. For now, I will go with this man… For now.

All according to the planned

We were all a bit shaken up after what had happened over the past few days, so I felt we all needed a bit of a break. To that end, I decided to visit our new found friends to see if they could aid us. The herb…—flower picker— provided me with some herbs that helps with hangovers, and something that would help Ahriman with his wound. I vowed to protect him… He is still alive, but I failed to keep him safe. I also drew a bath for us to wash up properly. Zeynep went first, followed by Manduhai, and myself. I had figured this might spawn some awkwardness… Given the whole… Getting naked part. Ahriman for his part did what he could to distract the older men. But, I failed to take into account the washing. I helped Zeynep, Zeynep ended up helping me and Manduhai, so far so good. I ended up washing Ahriman. He seemed very tense, unsurprisingly. Lastly Khurdan went into the bath, and we all kinda sighed in relief. No particular reason, I mean he doesn’t at all smell like moldy forest, or anything. Something did strike me… Manduhai is a warrior, like myself. I thought my scars would be… Less conspicuous. But her skin was… Seemingly untouched. I envied her. I left it behind me. I even treat them kindly when I see them now. They were young… I was young… We didn’t know any better. As Baatar would have said, When will you stop making up excuses for them? Baatar didn’t act like a bully because he wanted to… He had to. My fault. I pushed these thoughts to the back of my mind, and went to fetch our bread from Ilyana.

The next morning, we set up to leave. There is this strange feeling in the air when warrior know they are setting out to fight. I did not have to speak to Manduhai to know that she too was to save the Khazari slaves by the bridge. Zeynep did not seem surprised either. Khurdan though… While he seems better, he has a long way to go. It would be 2 days march before we reach the tower, however. The first day nothing happened, though Zeynep kept close eyes on the bushes, probably still with wolves close in mind. I can’t blame her, wolves are scary. Not as scary as bears! But that’s a completely different subject altogether. In the morning of the next day, Ahriman said he heard some people nearby. Him and Khurdan went to investigate. Me and Manduhai flanked Zeynep, staring into the forest. The two men returned and told us that a fight had happened nearby. We checked the corpses, to find more information about what we’re up against. We also took one of their armors, as a possible disguise.

That was the plan. It was a good plan. I mean… I got up the tower, did I not? Oh, Kuze… Sometimes you are truly dumb… I approached during the night, clad in their armor. Before I could make it to the tower, one of the Hyperborean guards called me out, and a woman approached me. She brought me to the one in charge. I was trying to convince them that I here under the Boyar Belgaru’s pay and orders. It was a hard sell, so I spiced it up with describing an attack party that I run into. That would not happen until daaaays ahead. That will happen tonight! What? Two Khazari warriors! A shaman and their guide. Oh no. So, they rang the alarm. BUT! I was taken to the tower, where I am setting up my plot to take out the archers. All according to the plan…

Hatred of Smiling Faces

We continued our journey and when we found a suitable tree, I climbed up to scout ahead. The Hyperborean camp had moved further north, away from the village which was good. A more immediate problem however was the pack of wolves that were trying to encircle us.

I gave the warning and everyone got into position while I stayed in the tree to keep an eye on their movements. The wolves sprang their attack and launched themselves towards Kuzeyli and Manduhai who were keeping Zeynep safe. Kuzeyli met their threatening growls with one of her own and they clashed.

Manduhai was taken by the wolves and Kuzeyli went after her, leaving some of the wolves free to roam, I leapt down at them and slew them. Meanwhile another set of wolves were approaching Zeynep and the Hyperborean. Kuzeyli immediately flew into action protecting them, every lunge a wolf made, was followed by a counter attack and another dead wolf.

Men would have fled but the wolves were feeling cornered and simply pressed on and died because of it. I had little time to admire my sister’s prowess however as more wolves began to encircle me. I was too slow and one of them got my leg. He died because of it, his jaws still holding on as he died.

Khurdan got the last one with an arrow and so, as suddenly as it began, it was over. Zeynep rushed in and helped to tend to my wound. She was scared, but she mastered it in order to do what she had to do. Good. It was something she would need to learn to do more of in the travels ahead.

I was able to make it to my horse, dragging along the last pair of wolves that attacked me and had them drag along behind Scar. The others did similarly and so we rode onwards to the hyperborean village. I mused on the fact that both master and steed had managed to ruin their leg within the first week of entering these lands.

But we journeyed on and not too long after did we reach the edge of the village. We stopped, noticing a Hyperborean had set up a guard post, the woman Kuzeyli had saved spoke with him and seemingly explained the situation as the old man lit up, happy and surprised.

His reaction surprised me but I did not think too much of it, but as we entered the city, everyone had the same reaction, young and old, man and woman. They all greeted us and especially their lost kin with smiles and cries of celebrations.

That was how they greeted her? That was how they reacted when once again being face to face with her? A quiet anger and disgust seeped into me. I admit that reading some of these people’s hard faces was difficult but I did not see a single one of them show any sign of shame. They were content with simply being happy that by a strange unearned coincidence, she had been returned to them. Their smiling faces, more so than any other strangeness regarding them was to me the most unsettling thing about them. I did not understand them and I hated them for it.

We met with one of Khurdan’s ‘friends’, although it pains me to use such an honorific for even one of these people, who brought us to his home. He could speak our tongue and told us about the keep we needed to pass. He told us that the Hyperborean who led their camp searching for the stag had left it largely unguarded. He even mentioned that one of Khurdan’s family members as well as a few dozen other slaves were kept there. It saddened me how Khurdan did not react more to that, he simply told him it was not his concern.

His friend seemed equally disinterested, even though it seemed likely that most of those slaves were of his own kin. How can these people choose to live like this? It was strange, the man spoke and acted honorably throughout the evening, so how could he sit here and laugh while his kin were being kept as slaves just a short journey away? How was he not ashamed that he let his neighbour be sold off to strangers as if she was a bag of grain? Why were there no pyres of those who died trying to keep them from taking her? Why do they act like slaves even though they are free? I stayed to the side throughout the evening as the others drank themselves to unconsciousness.

Manduhai went out to relieve herself after having lost her drinking challenge against Kuzeyli. She was unsteady on her feet so I decided, as the only sober one amongst us, to follow after her. She asked about Khurdan and her assumption and hope that we would free the people there.

It would jeopardize our mission, news of such a break in would likely spread and keep the others on alert… But there were Kazahri men and women locked up there, not only Khurdan’s family, but mine as well. Our goal out here was never to merely save Big Sister Jeshid, it was to help preserve and protect the Kazahri way of life by doing so. If we were to abandon that, to sacrifice our brothers and sisters for the sake of our leaders and kings, then we would be no better than the Hyperboreans.

Manduhai agreed in a scene that would have been touching had it not immediately been followed by her emptying her stomach in front of me. We continued talking as she went into the bushes to piss. It was strange, as soon as she went out into the dark vegetation, both her posture and voice shrank somehow.

She admitted to sharing much of Khurdan apprehensions. She felt as though she had very little left to live for. She no longer felt at home amongst the Merkit and she had lost the last of those she considered family to Kuzeyli’s blade. Gone was the bravado and bluster that usually defined her, and in its place was a young woman who was lonely and without direction. I knew it took courage for her to open up like that and I was honored she was willing to do so, even though it was likely that it had more to do with the drinks than with me.

She envied Kuzeyli and the family and friends who surrounded her, even if not all of them could recognize her the way they wanted to. In Manduhai’s eyes she did not even have that. That was partly why her rivalry with Kuzeyli was so important to her. I stopped myself from extolling the truth of all Khazari being family and that I viewed her as a part of my family. She knew my stance on such but I feared that saying that then would only have hurt her, likely making her feel even lonelier.

She did not need to return to Merkit if that place was no longer her home. The Khazari plains are vast, and she was free to choose which wind or road to follow in her search for a place to belong, be that alongside the rest of us or somewhere else.

Although she was still unsteady on her legs, more of her self-confidence resurfaced and she seemed adamant that if she could not find such a place, she would simply have to make one herself. Family was clearly very important to her and so raising one seemed to appeal to her. Half-jokingly, likely due to the alcohol, she even suggested a pact of sorts.

As we returned to our lodging she grabbed a blanket on which she could comfortably fall unconscious. Meanwhile Khurdan was taken care of by his friend, tucking him in with care I had not expected from their kind. I gave him my thanks for that and went up to the loft.

There Kuzeyli was cradling Zeynep to sleep. Perhaps it was not only Manduhai whose motherly instincts had awoken. It seemed the events of the last few days had finally caught up to Zeynep. I hoped for her sake that she learned to cope with it sooner rather than later.

Kuzeyli asked me about why I had not drunk anything and if it was due to my shamanic training. In part it was. It was true that some shamans drank and laughed with the best of them, but the consensus was usually that people were more prone to come seeking your counsel if you had not fallen asleep in your own filth the night before.

She asked me if it was difficult putting up an image around others but that was not what it was. I do not pretend to be someone I am not, but being who I am is sometimes tiring. Not drinking myself to sleep was not a large concern in that sense.

But that was of course only part of the reason; I drink with friends and family, not with Hyperboreans. She asked me if I truly hated being out here, if all Hyperboreans, even these people were my enemies. The simple answer was yes.

I knew, on some level that the man below who had given us food and lodging was likely not an evil man and had likely not been part of the slavery of the Hyperboreans beyond his inaction in stopping it. But making that distinction was pointless. The same could potentially be said about some of the whoresons who raided our lands. Perhaps some were merely following orders and were good and kind deep down. They still deserved to die.

Humanizing the enemy only made things harder when the time came to strike them down. And humanizing one of them, meant humanizing all of them. Perhaps it was a cowardly way of distancing myself from viewing them in ways outside black and white, but I had seen too much of the aftermath that these people had caused to my family to view them in any other way. And cowards who would even let their own kin be sold into slavery without fighting for them would not sway me to think differently.

Next morning came and me and Zeynep went downstairs to eat breakfast. She helped to tend to my wounds while Kuzeyli went to speak with the woman she had rescued. She returned a while later having abandoned her Khazari robes for Hyperborean ones.

I could see the reasoning; their clothes were more adapted towards this climate and her clothes had been abused even before entering these lands. But the appearance was unsettling at first glance. The rest of us were offered similar attires and both the recently risen Manduhai as well as Zeynep agreed. Zeynep did so with some hesitance, understanding the usefulness of such clothes while still valuing her real clothes.

Kuzeyli explained that she could bring those clothes with her on her horse and when Zeynep asked me for confirmation Kuzeyli practically dared me to naysay her. It was strange, she was increasingly taking the role of mother for her and seemed to expect me to act as father. I would not. I had already made the decision to accept Zeynep’s choice to come with us and would not treat her any differently than I would any of the others. She was no longer a child and I would not treat her like one.

That did not mean I would be unnecessarily cruel either, she was still my little sister. Perhaps there would come a time when supplies would force us to abandon things precious to us, but for now there was little reason not to keep them as a reminder of home and faith that those clothes would be worn again.

I truly hope that they will.

Fear and how it affects us

As soon as the sun rose, we packed up our camp and left. We thought the nightmare was over, but as it turns out… It was just biding its time. The wolves attacked up just as we were nearing the village. Ahriman spotted them, so we had time to get into defensive positions. Myself and Manduhai placed ourselves between the wolves and our two non-combatants. The wolves managed to lure us out of position. Through sheer force of will, somehow I made myself over to them, I managed to keep them safe wolves’ attacks, and take a fair few of them as well. My father’s voice rung in my ears: “Men are beasts in battle, and beasts are the most vulnerable after they attack.” My father knew little of beasts, in fairness… But I figured I’d try it out, see if it applied to wolves as well. Luckily, it did apply to wolves. Ahriman, however, seemed a bit out of his element. It is my duty to protect him, so I kept an eye on him. While he get hurt, he didn’t seem to be in lethal danger, so I kept my shield in front of the non-combatants. Duty only goes so far… I felt a responsibility towards Zeynep and Ilyana, as I felt it was due to me they were here. Even so, we survived and reached the village.

Karel, a local herbalist of sorts, came in contact with us as we neared the village, he escorted us in. And before long Ilyana had taken us to her neighbour’s house, Arkady. He seemed to be a very nice man. He let us eat and sleep in his house. He also provided us with a good amount of alcohol. Khurdan for himself seemed almost happy for ones, a friend at his side, with a huge amount of booze. On the other side of the table though, instinctually (Cause we’re idiots) myself and Manduhai started a… Drinking contest. It seems I held my booze better. She stumbled up and made her way out, Ahriman went with her. I stayed inside, and Khurdan started making less and less sense, and his friend listened to his story patiently. Arkady is a good friend… He seems to be exactly what Khurdan needed. Ilyana went home before too long, and Zeynep decided to sleep in the loft, as it was apparently the more quiet location. I went up to her, and as I got up she tackled me, hugging me. She started crying. The last few days was a lot to handle. She asked me if I was scared. Hell yeah I’m scared! Not of what she thinks though… I told her… about my past. The duality of me being a Khazari. I am both a Khazari and not a Khazari. My mind… My sensibilities are Khazari, but my image is Hyperborean, that is how people saw me. People saw me like that for so long, that somewhere deep inside, I started seeing myself that way. Maybe being here is just confusing me. Whatever I said, seemed to calm her down, and she managed to sleep, listening to my heart beat. I remained awake as she slept. Until Ahriman joined us, I spoke to him. This all… Must be hard for him. His heart is big, he cares so much. Being her, meeting people like Arkady must be very confusing for him.

The next morning, I woke up early, with Zeynep still sleeping peacefully next to me. Khurdan, for his part, was still asleep. So too was Manduhai. I went to speak to with Ilyana. I didn’t really care about any compensation… But it would be nice re-supply, fix my belt, and such. She was more than happy help. I also went by Karel, and got some herbs for Khurdan and Manduhai.

We had decided to stay for at least a day here. Partially, because Khurdan would be out for a day, anyway. But also because we sorely needed rest. As much as we are used, or whatever, to traveling for long periods at a time, our travel had been tough on all of us, we needed time to rest. Ahriman, I fear, gets no rest here, however. Specially not as something keeps coming up. Khazari brother’s and sister stuck as slaves in a hyperborean fortress? We all know our next destination…


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