The next morning, the aul buzzed with excitement.
Children ran through the grass dragging colorful ribbons.
Women decorated horses with embroidered cloth.
Men sharpened bows, their laughter rolling through the air like warm wind.
Temir gasped loudly.
"It's a festival! We are saved! There will be food!"
Kanykei groaned.
"Oh good. More chances for everyone to embarrass themselves."
Bair spun dramatically, arms wide.
"And more chances for romance!"
Arslan shot him a deadly look.
"No."
Ayisulu, however, smiled.
She remembered festivals like this — the smell of roasted meat, the thunder of hooves, the music of the kobyz rising against the sky.
It felt like home.
The elder woman approached them with a bright grin.
"You arrived on a lucky day. Today we will hold our Kokpar Festival — contests of strength, skill, and spirit."
Temir's eyes shimmered with hope.
"Will there be food?"
"Yes," the elder replied.
Temir nearly cried.
---
Contest #1: Archery
Arslan naturally joined the archers.
Kereg joined too.
Kanykei refused, saying she had "better things to do," then immediately watched from the front row.
Ayisulu stood in the back, minding her own business, until a small child tugged on her sleeve.
"Miss, can you help me? My bowstring is wrong."
Ayisulu fixed it gently.
The child's mother approached, holding another bow.
"Could you test it? Just once?" she asked.
Ayisulu hesitated.
She didn't want attention.
But refusing would be rude.
She stepped up to a spare target.
Arslan noticed instantly.
He watched her with the subtle intensity of a man who claimed he wasn't watching.
Ayisulu drew the bow.
She inhaled.
Exhaled.
Her arrow flew — straight through the center of the target.
Everyone froze.
Then:
A wave of murmurs.
Applause.
Whispers.
Temir yelled, "SHE CAN SHOOT? WHAT CAN'T SHE DO?"
Kereg stared at her like she'd grown wings.
Bair clutched his chest.
"Incredible. A warrior goddess."
Arslan walked over slowly.
"You never told me you were an archer," he said.
Ayisulu shrugged awkwardly.
"I'm not. That was just luck."
Arslan held her gaze.
"No," he said softly. "It wasn't."
She felt heat in her cheeks.
She hated when he did that — said things in a tone that made her heartbeat stupid.
---
Contest #2: Audaryspak
[Audaryspak — horse wrestling — is a contest where two riders try to pull each other out of the saddle]
Temir signed up immediately.
Kanykei: "You weigh as much as a pillow. Why would you enter this?"
Temir: "Strategy!"
Ayisulu: "What strategy?"
Temir: "Confuse them with my weakness!"
He lasted three seconds.
Ayisulu had to help him stand, brushing dust off his clothes.
Temir pointed accusingly at the champion wrestler.
"He cheated. He was strong."
Arslan pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Temir, that's the point of the game."
Bair patted Temir's shoulder.
"Don't worry. You were… spiritually victorious."
Temir sobbed, "Thank you."
---
Contest #3: Oramalyq
In this game, players sit in a circle with a blindfold.
Someone taps their shoulder; the blindfolded person must guess who it was by listening to breathing, footsteps, presence.
Ayisulu was pulled into the circle by excited children.
She put on the blindfold.
Someone tapped her.
Ayisulu listened.
A faint shift in air.
Light footsteps, but decisive.
A warm presence leaning slightly forward.
She smiled.
"It's Arslan."
Gasps.
Laughter.
Arslan froze.
He hadn't expected her to identify him so easily.
"Correct!" the children cheered.
Ayisulu removed the blindfold to find Arslan staring at her with an unreadable expression — impressed, yes, but also something sharper.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked quietly.
Ayisulu shrugged.
"You breathe differently."
Arslan's eyebrow lifted.
"Differently how?"
Ayisulu regretted every life choice that brought her to this moment.
"Like someone who is… always thinking."
His lips quirked.
"Is that a compliment?"
"Not really."
"It sounded like one."
She flushed.
He noticed.
Kanykei fumed.
Temir whispered to Bair,
"They're flirting again."
Bair: "No, this is advanced flirting."
---
As evening settled, a shaman emerged from the largest yurt — tall, wrapped in layers of blue felt, with beads and iron charms clinking softly.
The crowd hushed.
He looked around the circle…
pointed his staff…
…straight at Ayisulu.
"Girl," he said, voice low and echoing, "step forward."
Arslan instantly frowned.
Kereg's hand went to his sword.
Kanykei muttered, "Of course."
The shaman approached her with unblinking eyes.
"You walk with the wind," he said. "You listen to the earth. The fire whispers your name."
Ayisulu froze.
The shaman touched her forearm lightly, respectfully.
"You are one who sees," he murmured. "Your gift is blooming too quickly."
Arslan stiffened.
"…Her gift?"
Ayisulu's heart raced.
Not here.
Not now.
Not in public.
The shaman leaned closer.
"Do not fear it, child. Power comes when the steppe chooses. And it has chosen you."
People murmured with awe.
Temir whispered,
"You're chosen?? Like… officially chosen??"
Ayisulu wanted to fall through the earth.
Arslan stepped between her and the shaman — not aggressively, but protectively.
"Is she in danger?" the prince asked, voice steady but tight.
The shaman studied Arslan as if measuring his soul.
"Only if she walks alone."
Ayisulu's breath caught.
Arslan's jaw clenched.
"Well," he said quietly, "she won't."
The shaman smiled knowingly.
"Good."
He turned away, leaving the entire aul whispering with excitement.
Ayisulu stared at the ground, overwhelmed.
Arslan touched her sleeve lightly.
"Walk with me," he murmured.
She followed.
---
A Confession Almost Made
They walked away from the fire, past grazing horses and whispering grass.
"Does this frighten you?" Arslan asked softly.
Ayisulu nodded.
"Yes. And no. I don't know."
Arslan's voice lowered.
"You don't have to face this alone."
Ayisulu looked up.
Arslan was close. Too close.
Warm firelight flickered in his eyes.
He exhaled.
"Ayisulu… every time I see your strength, your courage, these… abilities of yours—"
He hesitated.
Ayisulu felt her heart climb into her throat.
Arslan continued, voice barely above a whisper:
"I find myself wanting to protect you. Even though you may not need it."
Ayisulu's breath trembled.
"That doesn't make sense," she whispered.
Arslan gave a small smile.
"It doesn't. But I can't stop it."
Ayisulu froze.
Was this a confession?
A half-confession?
An accidental emotional explosion?
Before she could respond, a horn sounded from the aul.
A warning horn.
Shouts followed.
Footsteps.
Panic.
Torches flaring.
Kereg ran toward them.
"Prince! Riders approaching. At least ten. Armed."
Arslan's expression sharpened instantly.
He turned to Ayisulu—
And in that moment, she saw the future flash across her vision like lightning.
She inhaled sharply.
"Arslan," she whispered, "something is coming."
He looked at her, completely focused, completely trusting.
"As long as you're with me," he said, "we'll face it together."
Ayisulu wasn't sure whether that terrified her—
Or thrilled her beyond reason.