“What?” Orhan gasped.

His mind raced with possible answers to this threat of attack from the Nikan. Part of him still didn’t want to believe the Khan’s forces had been right.

But the people came first. He had to remember that.

As the Jambudvipi women described the issue, the Qahtanads grew visibly disturbed.

“What do we do?” Lokapele asked.

“We’re not far from a safe haven.” Orhan said. “Back in the age of the Great Khanates, our ancestors constructed military forts across the steppe. One that once belonged to the old Khazhig tribe is within reach.”

“Running from them will just prolong the inevitable.” Kameko said, “We need to face them head on.”

“My people are too weak to fight off another invasion!” Orhan argued.

“Even more reason to appear strong. If we rally, we have a chance.” Kameko assured him.

Orhan scoffed, “A chance?”

“I’m with Kameko here.” Seang said, “I know my people. A chance is all they really need.”

“I won’t allow more of my people to die.”

“Then take the risk. Running like cowards won’t save any lives. They’ll hunt you down and kill you.” Kameko insisted.

“We cannot afford such a risk! I will preserve my people! No matter the cost!” Orhan shouted, “This is my clan! You are my guests! Don’t overstep your boundaries!”

“Perhaps we should allow the people to decide for themselves whether they wish to fight.” Shahla suggested.

“Fine by me.” Kameko folded her arms.

Orhan gave a slight nod, “Then let us address them.”

He broke up their circle and called to the camp, “Attention! Everyone, please stop what you’re doing!”

His people looked at him in surprise.

“It is unfortunate news, but the Nikan may attempt to strike us once again tonight, giving us mere hours to respond. Our guests and I have reached an impasse. We will respond however it is you wish to respond.”

Murmurs exploded through the clan, nervous whispers intermingled with terrified gasps.

Kameko stepped in front of him. “Enemies come once again to ravage your people!”

Orhan scowled, but allowed the brutish woman to continue. He knew his clan. He wouldn’t even have to speak.

“Are you going to let them trample over you a second time? Fight with me! Men, women, sons and daughters! With our power, we have a chance at repelling them and eliminating them for good! Run and they will come for you once again! Stand your ground and we will bring them to their knees!” Kameko triumphantly raised her glaive.

Her intense expression fell somewhat when she didn’t get the reaction she was expecting. People were panicking. They feared yet another massacre.

“We can ride to Khazhig fortress before they arrive at sunset.” Orhan said, “Pack up the camp. We must make haste if we are to escape another slaughter.”

The Ucari sprang into action, packing up their supplies and breaking down their tents.

“You would rather let them hunt you like animals?” Kameko roared with an inordinate rage, “You would hide like a craven? You will die this way! With valor, you have a chance!”

“Valor died among us eight years ago.” Orhan glared at her, “Don’t go attempting to revive the deceased.”

Kameko shook her head with disgust, “Perhaps a coward deserves to die.”

Seang rested a hand on her shoulder and stepped up to Orhan. “Even if it’s not what we wished, we would still like to accompany you. If they find you anyway, our powers will be of great help.”

Orhan nodded, “You may follow. But we will not wait for you.”

“I’m going to go see if I can spot them.” Kameko muttered. Abruptly, her body was consumed by flames as a crimson sparrow emerged in her place and flew off into the distance.

Orhan scoffed at the bird before turning to help his people clear their camp.

Within the hour, they rode towards the south. It would be hard on the horses, but Ucari people were more scarce than even them. Night had already come upon them half an hour after they rode off.

“Hyah!” Orhan urged his horse onwards

In a sudden burst of flames that startled the horses slightly, Kameko landed on one of the extra horses. She rode up to Seang and himself.

“I couldn’t find them!” Kameko said over the sound of hundreds of hooves.

“What?” Orhan and Seang asked at the same time.

“I must’ve flown for miles. I didn’t see a single Nikan soldier.”

“Then perhaps we lost them.” Orhan grinned.

As he said that, he was the first to crest the hill that revealed the massive stone fortress built into the side of the shallow Giruk mountain range, built in a mixture of Nikan and Qahtanad style.

A few minutes later, he slowed them to a stop. His people were weary from riding twice the normal length they would’ve gone on an intensive day of travel. Orhan himself didn’t think he would even put up a tent. Sleep was the only thing on his mind.

With the help of several more able-bodied teenagers, Orhan pushed one of the gate’s massive wooden doors open. He led his horse into the courtyard, which was overgrown with weeds and tall grasses. The stone bricks that made up the walls were eroded. The wood was polished and preserved, but not incapable of rotting.

He helped his clan close the doors behind them once everyone was in.

“Alright. We’ll get started a little later tomorrow. Cook supper if you need it. Sleep if you don’t. By the Lord of the Sky’s will, may we be safe tonight.” Orhan addressed his tired following.

The glinting of moonlight of steel was the only warning he got before a crossbow bolt hit his helmet, denting it and spinning the armor on his head. He yelped and stumbled over, pulling the helmet off.

The screams of his people suddenly accompanied the whizzing of crossbow bolts.

“They were waiting for us!”

The glow of flames and sunlight lit up the darkness as Seang and her people fought back.

It all broke into a battle so fast. Orhan staggered to his feet, struggling to even pull his sword from his hip.

His mind felt sluggish, trying to take everything in as Nikan soldiers flooded the courtyard and the blood of Ucari people spilled onto the stones.

“Get a hold of yourself!” A rough hand on his shoulder shook him from his confusion. Kameko. “You want to save your people? Fight!” She roared, stabbing a man through the throat with her glaive.

Orhan’s attention was drawn as a soldier attempted to carve through him with a saber. He let the blow glance off his lamellar coat and stabbed the soldier in his underarm.

Calm, boy. A leader and a warrior’s best weapon is calm. The last words of his father before he went off to fight for the Khan echoed in his mind.

Everything clarified in his eyes. The enemy, marked by their Nikan crests. Those he must protect, being everyone else.

Use your Muay, he told himself.

As another soldier attempted to skewer him on a spear, Orhan quickly abandoned that notion.

No. I have to adapt! Adapt or die!

Orhan grabbed the man’s spear and shoved the blunt end into his opponent’s crotch before slashing his throat.

He looked to his left and found a cowering woman with her child about to be murdered by a soldier. Orhan ran at the man and knocked him to the ground with a tackle. He stabbed the man in the throat, then turned to the mother, offering a hand to help her up.

“Find somewhere safe. Bar the door if it has one. Try to get as many in with you as you can.” Orhan ordered.

“Yes, Khan Orhan.” the woman nodded gratefully, “Thank you.”

Orhan didn’t bother to respond before seeing another would-be victim get cornered by two Nikan soldiers.

Orhan dropped his sword and grabbed a hunting bow off one of the few horses that hadn’t been spooked into running away. He shot the two in the backs of their knees, crippling them.

He was about to save another of his kinsmen before pain exploded into his arm with the puncturing of a crossbow bolt. He screamed in agony before the crossbowman knocked him to the ground and tried to bash him to death. Orhan drew a small hunting knife from his belt and shoved it through his attacker’s windpipe, spraying blood all over his face.

Orhan pushed the body aside and tried to get to his feet with only one arm, but he received another burst of pain in his leg, pulling him to the ground.

Another one of the bastards had shot him again. Orhan hissed each breath through clenched teeth as the pain burned him so badly it felt cold.

A molten rock saved him from the second crossbowman.

He wanted to writhe and squirm, but that would just make the pain worse. The burning felt like the northern steppe in the middle of winter.

All he could do was lie on the ground, helpless and bleeding. He watched as they butchered his clan like cattle. Shot full of bolts, dismembered, decapitated, or beaten.

Please, he hoped against hope, Save them. Somebody save them. Don’t let them die because of my mistake. Lord of the Sky, help them.

It was no use. Seang and her people fought as hard as they could, but while they held off a collective thirty soldiers, twenty were free to kill innocent people.

It was that scene that let him see the truth. No one was going to help them. Because he made everyone who could turn away. He made himself the only thing between his people a desolation. Now that he was on the ground, bleeding out, dying, he saw what he should’ve done.

800 years for a banner. Our ancestors were fools.

If only he could go back. If only he could do something different. If only he knew what he knew now.

Time moves ever forward. It waits for no one. And to expect it to is nothing short of arrogance. Preservation is stagnation. And anything that refuses to change dies.

He sentenced them to death. By enforcing the old ways, by trying to live in the past, he sentenced his entire clan to death.

Then give me a second chance. Don’t let me go back. Offer me this, he sent his prayer to no god in particular, one miniscule, tiny sliver of time. Give me the chance to shape a future. Let me grow beyond what I once was. I ask this and will never ask for anything more in my life.

As his vision blurred, every second became a precious eternity. Every drop of time became an opportunity in his eyes. Just for a moment, he was determined to be better than what he was. Better than the petulant boy. Better than the delusional Khan. Better than the man who was lying here on the ground a second ago.

As Orhan reached out for his sword, his sight worsening by the second, he felt the coldness of his wounds suddenly spread across his entire body. And a yellow, glowing hand that reached out from his and grabbed his sword.

Someone offered another hand of the same yellow to him. Orhan looked up at the glowing bald man before him, who wore a wide-brimmed black hat and had a reassuring look of confidence on his face.

Orhan tried to reach for his hand, but was held down by the pain in his arm and leg. He tried again and grabbed that man’s hand. Upon doing so, all his pain melted away. He was still injured, but he found himself able to stand.

The man looked at him with kind eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“With each wound,” the man touched the bolt in his arm. Orhan felt nothing from it, “A man becomes stronger than he was before.” the man snapped the bolt off and suddenly pain rushed back into Orhan’s body, nearly causing him to fall over. “Embrace the pain, young Khan. Become better, then your people will become better. Let them be better and you will become better.”

The remaining bit of bolt still in his body sank further into his arm. But he could feel it dissipate. As it vanished, his wound scabbed over. It didn’t heal. And it certainly hadn’t stopped hurting. But now it was bearable.

When Orhan looked back up, the man had disappeared.

He looked down and snapped off the bolt in his leg. It, too, became more bearable.

But the coldness remained with him. But now, instead of burning, it created the sensation of...almost like lightning.

Orhan found himself with his sword back in his hand. Without a thought, he rushed up behind a Nikan soldier and ran him through with his saber.

“Orhan!” Shahla exclaimed, “We thought you were de-” she cut herself off, “My god...you’re a Shedim Master.”

But Orhan’s focus was elsewhere. It was useless.

The fighting was dying down, most of the Nikan fleeing. And most of the Ucari dead. Actually, all of them were dead. Even the ones he thought he’d saved.

“I...I was too late. It was too late to stop them.” Orhan gasped, sinking to his knees, “No. No, this was supposed to be my second chance. I was supposed to save them!”

His breath came in uncontrolled spurts, rapidly heaving.

“I...I changed. I changed like they wanted. I let go. I did, I swear I did.” he sobbed over the spilled blood of his kin. “Why didn’t that save them? Why couldn’t I-”

“Orhan.” Shahla grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look up at her. “You couldn’t have done anything. None of us could have done anything except our best. The only thing you can do is move forward.”

Orhan simply continued to weep over his dead clan.

“They’re already dead, Orhan. Just don’t let those deaths be in vain.” Shahla said, a kind, but not pitying look in her eye, “Feel that pain. We all have lost so much. It’s God’s great humiliation. You must use that pain. Let it give you the strength to get back up.”

“I...I can’t. I’ve lost...I’ve lost everything. Everything! I c-can’t just move forward from this. I just can’t.”

“You can and you will.” Shahla insisted, “Because I will walk with you. Me, Najeem, Vai, Shakti, Seang, Lokapele, Kameko, all of us will walk with you. Perhaps it’ll be easier to move forward when you aren’t doing it alone.”

She stood and offered her hand to him.

“If you wish to remain there on the ground, a sobbing husk of a man, so be it. If you truly believe that, I will not force you to stand. But I don’t think you’ve lost everything. You still have your life. Those who live feel pain. But they must never be held down forever.”

Orhan looked up at Shahla, her skin glowing softly in the moonlight and her form blurry past his tears. He looked at her hand. Her invitation.

He wanted to refuse. He should die with his clan.

No. His mind’s voice intervened, You are no longer the boy who bears the burdens of a Khan. Who imitates the past to ease his own confusion. You’ve started the journey on the path to being a man. Either finish the change. Or die a shameful mess.

Orhan took her hand.