Ashes of Empires

At first, the smell was barely noticeable to those who wouldn't know better. Then, it grew thicker and more pungent in the air. Finally, the specks of ants in the distance grew large, and the air soured until none would fail to notice it. The smell was an accustomed pleasantry for Bakars sharp nose. It signaled that he was home. It smelled of Ox, goat, sheep, horse, fire, grass, leather, and a dozen other things. 

"Home"

The first herd they passed was made up of 6 sheep grazing on the fresh, abundant grass. A small stream allowed them to quench their thirst if they needed to. A lone Elderly rider on a dainty little mare accompanied them, keeping them safe from any would-be thieves or predators. The elderly man, Bakar knew to be Hologu gave them a friendly wave as they continued further west. 

The herds and great circular tents the tribes called home came at greater intervals the further they went. The Yurt tents came alone, then in pairs, then after making summit over a small hill, they were greeted with the sight of a city. For multiple leagues around, a sprawl of house-sized tents crept out around a central tent the size of a small castle. Large tall banners of a sun on a green field surrounded the circular cities every few tens. Marking territory like a wolf might mark a tree. Large herds of Ox, sheep, cattle, and most importantly, horses grazed about the surrounding landscape, devouring grass like a horde of locus amongst a field of wheat. The animals outnumbered their human counterparts almost ten to one as they ought to do in nearly every steppe tribe.

The clop of hard-pressed hooves reluctantly dragged Bakar away from the sight of the city. 

"Tomor!" The lone horseman said in a merry voice, In a more respectful tone he said "Badai." nodding his head in deference to the warrior.

"Altan." Both greeted plainly

"I am ordered to bring you two to the Khan. He asks you to dine with him tonight." 

"Asks or commands?" Tomor held a hint of uncertainty In his voice.

With a puzzled look showing that Altan had only just now understood the unusual wording. The entirety of the tribe is his by right of blood. Any tent, treasure, horse, or woman was his if he pleased. 

"He asks. But I don't think it is a request you would be wise to turn down." 

At Altan's words, both Tomor and Badai gave each other disconcerting looks. Badai turned his Scared and aged Black stallion to face the remainder of the group.

"You are free to return to your families and homes. We will bring all the spoils of your fight to the Khan to take his pick and bring you what the Khan deems you may keep. " He narrowed his eyes on Bakar's wounded arm. "Go see Ghoa and have your arm tended to." 

After the two men and their messenger left the remaining group slowly parted ways. First was Arik who departed to go tell his family of the fight. Next was Drobei who embraced Bakar in a friend hug and bade him good day. Last was Maral whose bright blue eyes seemed to bore into his very sense of being. 

"When you are done with Ghoa, you should come to my yurt. My family would be honored to host you." With that, Maral departed in a quick stride.

Bakar caught his eyes lingering longingly on Maral's sharp and comely features as she trotted away. Her long raven-black hair seemed to flow gracefully in the dry steppe wind. Unbound as it was, she looked like the great spirits of the plains the shamans depicted in their tablets. Few would blame him for thinking so, having seen only one of the 'Gol Ardun' in his short life.

Suddenly aware of the cacophonous noise of silence, Bakar urged his steed forward at a steady pace. 'Ipsus' moved in with a swagger that betrayed its good mood as it had done since Bakar had been gifted the stallion from Kasar, the tribe's half-crazed shaman, on his tenth name day over four years ago. It moved its feet in a pattern reminiscent of the grouping of stars that marked the way east toward the Steppe Minor.

The people of his tribe were quick to move out of his way or avoid him altogether. A few bared unhidden disdain upon their faces. Bakar reflectively navigated through the lesser populated back ways of the wood and felt Yurts. 

A larger-than-average (Though only Barely) Tent sheltered him within its shadow. The smell that emanated from the yurt was queer in comparison to the rest of the village. It smelled of Incense and conations broken occasionally by a wave of rare and valuable spices. Bakar entered through the unguarded opening, unwilling to linger and draw more unpleasantries from his tribe-kin

"Welcome, Welcome." The raspy voice of Ghoa, the elderly crone, sat on a foldable chair hunched over a yellowish concoction Bakar wouldn't even begin to guess the purpose of. He stood by the entrance and patiently waited for the wrinkled and greying woman to gesture him forth. 

"Bakar!" a youthful, vibrant voice shouted from an adjoining room to his left. He was taken in a sudden tight embrace. The warmth of it kept Bakar from moving for a long moment.

"Hello, Cotoah, I hope you have been well." He spoke softly to his sister. His words seemed to finally draw the attention of Ghoa from her potions and tonics. 

"Bakar! My dear boy!" Ghoa moved to embrace Bakar but hesitated "Your hurt! Why didn't you say anything? Foolish child." 

He chuckled at her words. Any little thing could set his wet mother on a tangent about this, that, or that, and this. "It is but a little scratch, I will live for a moment longer I believe" Teased Bakar and he left his sister's welcome warmth for a seat by a table.

"Nonsense, we will speak will I tend to you. I wish to hear of your first foray as a Tengi." He could see a spark of excitement in Ghoa's eyes as she unwrapped the bandage. Her fascination with the human(And nonhuman) body unnerved many within the tribe. But few would complain about it when she healed their bodily aches and pains.

Cotoah, who had dragged a third chair to the table, leaned into the table ready to listen to whatever story he decided to share. "Tell us everything." 

"It was Arik, Maral, and Drobei who were chosen to go. The twins were also chosen, but Noyan Usun sent them to a different group." The moral benefit of the twins was too great to risk in a potentially dangerous expedition. Twins were considered a good omen; it would be bad for morale to lose either one of them.

"We had been there for going on three full days with no sign of any danger. But towards the end of the third day, Drobei heard faint noises of a campsite. We found a camp of six and killed them." He pulled out the battle axe that was on his hip. "After I killed my first, I got dragged from my horse and lost my spear. Maral killed the man that did it, so I took his axe and slew another. That is where I received my wound." He slid his axe back into the makeshift rope sling on his hip. It was the one item he didn't give Tomor or Badai to show the Khan. It made him bleed. Therefore, he thought it should be his.

"You're a warrior now!" Cotoah said with glee. "Maybe the Khan will gift you an armband!"

"Maybe. Even so, I wouldn't get it for close to another year. I'll be fifteen in a few weeks, and tradition is sixteen." Getting an armband would mark him as a warrior, part of the Khan's retinue, saving him from a life of nothing but herding and hunting. 

Ghoa pulled out a white pasty ointment from a pine chest. "Here. Put this on every mor.."

"Bakar. The Khan requests your presence within the hour." A tall, stocky man clad in leather armor with a lamellar shirt and iron helm that had a long white horse hair plume. A member of the Khans personal bodyguard stood at the entrance of the tent.

"Has Bakar done something wrong?" asked Ghoa in a protective tone. 

"No. There have been... developments. It is not for me to discuss, clean up, and join the Khan at his table." The bodyguard, his job complete, strode out of the tent leaving the three of them confused and nervous.