By morning, the steppe had changed its mood. The wind carried the smell of distant rain, and the sky held that pale silver color that always foretold a restless day. Ayisulu walked between the horses, checking their saddles, trying to look composed even though Arslan's words from last night still echoed in her ribs.
What we started.
She nearly dropped a water skin just remembering it.
Temir noticed immediately. "Are you dying? Fainting? Falling in love?"
"Temir," she warned.
He nodded thoughtfully. "So, fainting."
Ayisulu almost threw the water skin at him.
Before she could commit violence, Bair's shout cut across the camp.
"Riders! Three of them! Approaching fast!"
Everyone turned toward the horizon.
Three figures emerged from the wavering heat: cloaked, mounted on massive shaggy horses, and moving with the silent precision of hunters. But what struck Ayisulu was the animals running alongside them — two enormous steppe dogs with thick white fur and tails curved like scythes.
Kanykei squinted. "They're not bandits."
Kereg's expression darkened. "No. Worse."
The riders halted just outside bow range. One of them lifted a hand — a woman with a severe braid and a dark blue cloak decorated with silver discs that caught the sunlight like stars. Beside her sat a younger man with golden hair tied in a knot — almost too handsome in a suspicious way — and a shorter figure wrapped head-to-toe in patterned cloth, only bright green eyes visible.
The woman spoke first.
"Who leads this camp?"
Arslan stepped forward immediately. "I do."
Her stare sharpened. "You are Prince Arslan of the Golden Banner?"
Temir gasped. "She knows him."
Kanykei elbowed him. "Everyone knows him, you gourd."
The woman dismounted with surprising grace. "Then we bring a warning… and a request."
Erlan shifted beside Ayisulu. "This smells like trouble."
"It always smells like trouble," Ayisulu replied under her breath.
The woman bowed slightly. "I am Sarynbek's daughter, Akbota. These are my companions — Cagan, and the silent one we call Snow-Mouth. We are scouts from the Northern Ulus."
Arslan exchanged a quick look with Kereg. The Northern Ulus was far — weeks away.
To travel this distance meant urgency.
Akbota's expression was grave. "Our lands have seen smoke. Villages deserted. Animals fleeing. Dreams turned violent."
Ayisulu felt her heart tighten at the word dreams.
Akbota continued: "We tracked the source. A figure dressed in red, carrying a black falcon with eyes of fire."
Everyone froze.
"The Falcon," Erlan muttered.
Snow-Mouth pulled out a carved tablet with strange symbols. Ayisulu's pulse quickened the moment she saw it — something tugged at her, like the spirit's voice had returned.
"This was left in every abandoned settlement," Akbota said.
Ayisulu stepped closer on instinct.
Arslan immediately moved with her, as if attached by an invisible thread.
The carved symbols swirled in a pattern she recognized without knowing how. Her fingertips tingled. Her vision flickered.
Then—
She saw it.
Not a vision of danger, not exactly.
A voice. A warning. A plea.
"These symbols…" Ayisulu whispered. "They're not a threat. They're a message."
Akbota's brows furrowed. "You can read them?"
"I don't know how," Ayisulu admitted. "But I can."
The youngest rider — Cagan — leaned forward eagerly. "What do they say?"
Ayisulu inhaled. Her mouth spoke before she could think.
"'The storm will not wait for kings. The shadow seeks its mirror. The seer must choose her path before the third moon rises.'"
Silence.
Temir blinked. "Does anyone else feel like she just read a riddle written by a very dramatic goat?"
Kanykei smacked the back of his head. "Respect the ancient goat."
Arslan didn't speak at all. He watched Ayisulu with a look so intense she had to look away.
Akbota stepped closer. "If you can read the symbols… then you are the one we were told to find."
Ayisulu flinched. "Find? Why me?"
Snow-Mouth finally spoke — voice soft, smooth, genderless.
"Because you carry the old blood, dream-walker."
Ayisulu swallowed.
Of course.
Cagan leaned forward again, too excited for someone in a crisis. "And you created wind tornadoes yesterday, yes? Temir told us."
Ayisulu shot Temir a murderous look.
Temir mouthed, I'm helping.
Akbota ignored them both. "We need your help, Ayisulu. Our people will not survive another month if we do nothing. You may be the only one who can understand the Falcon's intentions."
Ayisulu backed up a step — straight into Arslan's chest.
His hands steadied her at once.
"We are not sending her anywhere," Arslan said, voice cold.
Akbota raised her chin. "I am not asking to separate you, Prince. In fact, you should come. The Falcon's eyes are on your lands too."
Erlan crossed his arms. "Wonderful. A group trip."
Temir cheered. "NEW FRIENDS!"
Kanykei rolled her eyes. "New ways to die."
Ayisulu barely heard any of them.
Her heart pounded too loudly.
She felt the symbols pulling at her — like threads connecting across distant lands.
She felt the Falcon's shadow stirring.
She felt the steppe waiting.
And she felt Arslan too close behind her — warm, solid, grounding.
He leaned down, voice low in her ear.
"You don't have to go anywhere you don't want."
Ayisulu whispered back, "But what if I'm meant to?"
Arslan's breath caught — almost a quiet pain.
Akbota waited. Snow-Mouth stared. Cagan smiled like an excited puppy. Erlan tensed. Temir waved at a hawk overhead. Kanykei inspected her nails.
Ayisulu finally found her voice.
"If people are suffering," she said slowly, "and if I can help… then I can't stay here."
Arslan closed his eyes––as if bracing himself.
Akbota nodded sharply. "Then we ride at dawn."
Ayisulu swallowed. Dawn. A new direction. A new threat.
A new part of herself she feared discovering.
She felt Arslan's hand brush hers — barely, almost accidentally, but not by accident.
She didn't pull away.
And neither did he.