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#Arasen Sagahl
paintedscales · 20 days
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010. Malqir
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Stopped on their way back to the Sagahl Iloh thanks to the enthusiasm of Bayarmaa and Barghujin both, Nomin is introduced to the tribe and customs of the Malqir. During her time there, she gets to see a lot of what the Malqir practice with great importance to their tribe. The game is fascinating, sure! But then there are some other aspects that arise that give Nomin pause. From there, a needed pep talk is given.
Word Count: 4,496
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It was only a day’s travel from the Sagahl Iloh when the van made its next stop due to making good time in their travel. The idea was less of Esenaij’s, and more of both Bayarmaa and Barghujin’s -- both who seemed excitable enough. What inspired the idea of stopping was the fact that there was a new site that had been erected in the time that they had been away till now. The colors that the ger and members bore made Nomin think of the Oronir momentarily before she realized the shade of yellow seemed darker -- leaning more toward an earthy orange.
More striking about the site, however, were the array of decorations that made up the site of the iloh they took a pause at. Khiimori flags were strung up -- something that Nomin thought were only reserved for things like burials or proving grounds like Bardam's Mettle.
“What tribe is that one?” Nomin asked, leaning over the railing of the wain, arms draped over the side as she looked over. The smells as they neared the iloh were delicious, and Nomin’s mouth watered almost painfully as she took in the scents. Whatever tribe it was, they must have been cooking up a veritable storm if the smells were so apparent even a good several yalms away still.
“That’s the Malqir,” Keuken replied. He pointed out the bonfire and the members who danced around it. “It’s not really our place, though if this is the place the Malqir have chosen for their new site, then they should be preparing for their annual kharaqiq tournaments. Certainly smells like it.”
Nomin’s face scrunched in confusion, and she straightened up. She looked over in Keuken’s direction. “What’s ‘kharaqiq’?”
“It’s kind of like shatar. Have you ever played that one?” Bayarmaa asked, hopping off the wain.
“Only the adults in the Tumet really ever played,” Nomin replied, thinking back on what she remembered of shatar. The rules were a bit too complex for her at the time, but she remembered liking the pieces and how they were carved in the shapes of khans or animals, painted in glossy black or white.
“Well, it’s kind of like that, except that the board is separated into three rings, biggest to smallest moving inward. The goal of the game is to capture all three territories -- the rings -- or if you can’t do that before the time is up, capture at least two,” Bayarmaa explained. “The game is a little above my level of understanding, but it's definitely the festival that we should at least see if we can partake in!”
“You know we have nothing to offer, right?” Esenaij asked, a sense of exasperation strained within his voice. “You certainly can't expect us to be able to walk right in with nothing we can give.”
“I bet life would be a lot easier for you if you weren't always stifled by your trader's brain!” Bayarmaa huffed, balling her hands into fists and placing them on her hips as she looked up at Esenaij. She puffed out her cheeks, and Esenaij only looked down at Bayarmaa with a look of mild annoyance as her tail flicked with irritation behind her.
“It would do you good to learn to have something to exchange just in case you can’t always rely on the good will of others,” Esenaij shot back.
Barghujin leaned on the outside of the wain next to Nomin, a small smirk tugging at their lips. They whispered to Nomin, “we should get started on our way over. The Malqir are usually pretty amicable toward spectators of their tournaments. Helps shake their nerves out, especially if they aspire to be chosen as khan or khatun. Besides, I bet Esenaij and Bayarmaa will keep up their squabbling until they see us leaving without them.”
The clear jest made Nomin giggle, and Barghujin grinned as they stood back up and held their hands out. Instead of hopping out of the back of the wain like usual, Nomin crawled over the side of the wain and leaped into Barghujin’s arms. With a swift and powerful swing, Barghujin brought Nomin to ride upon their shoulders as they started on their way toward the Malqir Iloh.
Briefly, Nomin and Barghujin were halted by some of the Malqir guardsmen. Much like their time with the Dotharl, they, as Sagahl, were permitted entry into the iloh grounds. Not long after them, Keuken and Daritai came along, and then both Bayarmaa and Esenaij. It was as Barghujin said when it came to the two of them: once they saw everyone else leaving without them, they were quick to wrap up their minor argument.
Looking at everything from her perch atop Barghujin’s shoulders made a smile spread wide across Nomin’s face as she gazed around at everything, and took in all the different things. The dancers around the bonfire, the musicians playing the morin khuur or engaging in khoomei to vocalize alongside the strings, the various smells of frying meats and bread, and most notably, the tables that were set up with neat rows of a checkerboard game divided into those aforementioned three rings, and even other tribe members that were enjoying visiting. Everything there was relatively new and exciting for Nomin.
“Do you have friends in the Malqir?” Nomin asked Barghujin, leaning forward and looking down at them. “It feels like the Sagahl have so many friends!”
Barghujin’s shoulders rumbled with gentle laughter, and they reaffirmed their hold on Nomin’s legs so she did not fall from them. “I have a couple. I don't know if they'll be participating in this year's kharaqiq tournament, though. None of them felt too particularly interested in claiming the title of leadership.”
“But they play?”
“Everyone in the Malqir is taught to play,” Barghujin started. “It's their way of life as a more pacifist tribe like us. They're great at things that involve planning ahead and strategic measures.”
“What we learn is also good for keeping track of our supplies and resources so that we know when to prepare or trade for more. When to hunt and gather to restock for the seasons as they come and go. Not to mention planning for proper migratory routes and avoiding unwanted trouble,” came a new voice. Barghujin turned with a grin while Nomin looked inquisitively in the new person's direction. She was just a little shorter than Barghujin, and her horns curved forward. Her deel draped loosely around her, and her hair was pulled back into braids.
“Sanchir!” Barghujin greeted her happily as they approached the Malqir tribesperson. “Long time no see! Missed you at the Naadam.”
“The current khan decided it best to keep moving through the time of the Naadam until we ended up here,” Sanchir said in response, a small shrug accompanying their words. Sanchir’s attention then went up to Nomin, who stared back at her inquisitively. “Though it seems to me you’ve been busy playing caretaker, Barghujin. Who is this little one? I daresay I don’t recognize this one from the Sagahl, though she bears your colors.”
Barghujin pat Nomin’s leg twice lightly and introduced her: “this is Nomin! She’s new to our tribe.”
Sanchir took a moment to consider this, a hand going to her chin. After a few seconds, her brow went up with the realization. She then looked up at Nomin with a small smile. “Ah…the timing seems right. A former child of the Tumet, then?”
Nomin nodded with a small ‘mhm…’ and her expression fell only slightly. She then re-composed herself and pointed in both Esenaij and Bayarmaa’s direction; “Esenaij and Bayarmaa are my new family! Esenaij brought me back from Reunion.”
“... Interesting…” Sanchir commented, her eyes flicking back and settling on the Sagahli siblings. She gave her attention back to Nomin. “Is this your first time getting to attend the Malqir's kharaqiq tournament? Outsiders aren't allowed to compete, of course, but you are allowed to at least watch and join in the festivities.”
Nodding, Nomin gave another ‘mhm’ in response to Sanchir. Barghujin then reached up and leaned down, getting Nomin settled back onto the ground. With her little tail wiggling inquisitively behind her, Nomin stayed close and looked around once more. She then looked at Sanchir and asked, “do you fry up boortsog for the festival?”
Daritai walked forward, placing his hand on Nomin’s head and ruffling her hair. He and Nomin had forged more of a friendship since he started teaching her how to hold and maintain a bow during their downtime. Since, he had become much more of an elder-sibling figure like Esenaij and Bayarmaa.
“Has food been the only thing on your mind since we’ve been here?” Daritai asked. It was not often that Nomin got to see him express amusement, but the smile that tugged at his lips was unmistakable. “Although, I guess we could use something to eat. Can't really sustain ourselves off of the desert's blessings and our dwindling rations alone.”
Approaching Nomin, Sanchir leaned down so that they were both at eye level. She smiled gently and then motioned toward the rest of the Iloh.
“I have a little brother that should be closer to the kharaqiq tables beyond the bonfire. He’s about your age, you might be able to find him and have him show you around if you’re interested,” Sanchir suggested. She then lowered her tone in a friendly manner, “he could also show you where the buffet is so you can sate your hunger.”
At that, Nomin’s tail flicked up.
The involuntary action did not go missed by Sanchir, either. She rose to her full height and drew her hands together as she gave a soft, amused chuckle.
“My little brother’s name is Arasen. He’s a good couple of ilms taller than you, and his eyes are striking. I don’t think you’ll be able to miss him. If you’re uncertain, his limbal rings glow brightly with a near-white color from yellow,” Sanchir explained. “Think you'd be up for finding him? Just tell him I asked you to find him.”
“Okay!” Nomin affirmed with a grin. She turned to start on her way as it seemed the Sagahl were wanting to catch up with Sanchir in some capacity. It was clear that they were well acquainted with one another, and as the Sagahl informed Sanchir of their travel out to the Dotharl Khaa to gift a boon for their win in the Naadam, Nomin found herself paying more attention to everything else. 
Wandering further away from the older Sagahl and Sanchir, Nomin ventured into where more of the festivities were taking place. Her inquisitive expression gave way into bright excitement as she explored. When she neared the dancers around the bonfire, Nomin noted the woven structures that surrounded it in multitudes. Sticks and dried reeds were woven together to create shapes akin to creatures of the Steppe; tigers, horses, camels…
It then struck Nomin that each of the structures were reminiscent of the shatar pieces she had seen prior during her time with the Tumet. The realization made Nomin consider briefly just how important this game was to their way of life.
… If only she had been born to a tribe that valued games and gameplay. Perhaps that would have been fun!
A dancer maneuvered around Nomin, a giggle heard as they passed. Nomin looked after them, brought back to the fact that there were people celebrating and having fun. She started walking again, her gait quick as she looked for this Arasen boy, or the mentioned buffet. Whichever came first.
Nomin was certainly more keen on following her nose rather than going toward the rows of tables set up with the circular game boards. She noted the people that sat at the tables, their knees or rears nestled upon the cushions. Everyone looked a mix of either focused, self-assured, or gleeful. The sight was almost akin to what Nomin recalled of the warriors in the Tumet before they prepared for battle…
The growl in her stomach reminded Nomin to return to following her nose. Picking up the pace, she eventually saw some groups of people shuffling around a canopy that covered members of the Malqir that stewed, grilled, steamed, and fried foods. That was the place Nomin soon found herself jogging toward. It seemed she had no need to seek out Arasen after all!
Meandering and weaving through people, Nomin eventually met her goal: the Malqir cooks who were frying things like khuushur and boortsog. Her tail wiggled excitedly and impatiently behind her as she ran forward to eagerly ask for some. In addition to her little plate of boortsog, Nomin was given a small bowl of urum, and a small bowl of jam. Happily, she thanked the Malqir who fried the treats up for her, and she returned to wandering until she could sit close to those who were entrenched in playing kharaqiq between one another at the boards that were set out.
Idly, Nomin munched on the fried bread bits, crumbs falling on her deel and into her plate. She watched how others were playing kharaqiq, hoping to glean some kind of understanding of the game from those closest to her. As time went on, and both her boortsog and pairings eventually disappeared, Nomin was no closer to understanding the game than when she was first told how the game kind of worked.
“Obsidian is set to capture ivory's territories in just two more moves there. So long as obsidian doesn't get blocked into the silver ring to standstill,” a boy spoke. His voice startled Nomin into flipping her empty plate and bowls onto the ground with a small clatter. She left her seat, gathering up the mess of dishes before she furrowed her brow at this boy.
He looked a little sheepish before he took in Nomin's appearance fully. He kind of gave a ‘hmph’ at her, his eyes flicking between her face and her horns. It seemed he took better notice of the discoloration on her scales.
Crinkling her nose with some annoyance, Nomin was about to take a seat back where she was before she noted his eyes. She had almost forgotten what Sanchir said, and this boy seemed to fit the description she was given earlier.
“Are you Arasen?” Nomin asked.
“Huh?” The boy was taken aback by the question as he looked at Nomin with surprise. His near-white limbal rings were that much more prominent as a result. “Yeah, that's me. But who in the hells are you? No one from the Sagahl I know, that's for sure.”
Nomin rolled her eyes at Arasen's tone. She knew it well enough from her time with the Tumet. The tone of someone who thought of themselves too good to have been in the presence of someone not as blessed by Nhaama. However, she introduced herself and explained that she and the Sagahl were passing through, saving the fact that Sanchir told her to seek him out later for last.
“... Well, it seems evident that you didn't really do that last part…” Arasen replied. He still had a bit of a tone to his voice that indicated displeasure, but it was less obvious.
“Sanchir said you could show me where the buffet was, but since I already found where all the food was being prepared, yeah… I guess I didn't really want to burden you with the responsibility of having to hang out with me if I found everything I wanted,” Nomin replied. She used words she was used to hearing from the Tumet when it came to her. Especially since the disposition felt similar.
Arasen bit his tongue, his lips twitching back in a deepened frown. “My sister will be upset if she doesn't find us together, I imagine. Clearly she trusts me to watch over you.”
Nomin pursed her lips out in an exaggerated pout.
“I'm not a little child,” Nomin protested.
“Little enough! Your horns and tail haven't even fully developed yet!” Arasen steeled his stance on the matter. It seemed to Nomin that he must have valued his sister’s trust enough to tolerate this interaction that clearly was not to his taste.
Nomin sighed, turning her attention back toward the closest kharaqiq players. She then pointed at them -- rather, their board. She hesitated, but then finally asked, “can you tell me about kharaqiq at least? Bayarmaa told me it was like shatar, but…where I'm from, only those with a name play such games.”
For a moment, Arasen's face twisted into confusion over the tail end of Nomin's words.
“... I'm not even going to ask what that means…” Arasen muttered before shifting his attention toward the kharaqiq board. He stifled a sigh and then explained the rings and what they represented. Gold, silver, copper -- sometimes they would instead be represented by polished stone, ivory, or wood of differing colors. “Each of the rings is a territory. You and your opponent start with your territories, and the pieces do kind of move just like shatar pieces with some minor differences. The point is to capture as many of your opponent’s pieces while also working to capture the open territory -- ring, in this case.”
Pointing at the sand timer next to the players, Arasen directed Nomin’s attention toward it.
“Players have a quarter of a bell to finish the game. At least in tournaments like these ones,” Arasen continued. “If you're aware of the pieces and how they move, then it's a battle of wit and endurance with opponents that are just as familiar. But, if you're inexperienced -- like you are -- you'd probably lose in five moves or less.”
Nomin huffed, not exactly appreciating the insinuation. Even if Arasen was most likely correct in his statement.
The more that Arasen explained the game, however, the more that his words fell on deaf horns. He seemed to grow evermore elated as he talked about movement of pieces and the importance of them. For Nomin, however, the longer he spoke, the more all that information muddied together. It was becoming too much to really remember, thus she started to tune him out.
Watching the players, however, Nomin got a little bit of the gist. Ultimately, she became simply taken with just watching them and seeing the game progress.
Black won by the time the timer ran out, their pieces occupying two of the rings. The player controlling the obsidian pieces smiled to themselves before offering a polite bow to their opponent. Surprisingly to Nomin, both players were incredibly amicable toward one another. She would not have been too happy in defeat, at least that was what she thought to herself.
“What an exciting game that was!”
Oh. Right. Arasen was still there.
Looking over, Nomin pursed her lips slightly.
“How long is this tournament going on today?” Nomin asked.
“The first half has already ended,” Arasen replied. “We're in the second half. What you saw there should have been the third or fourth game since. Over the next couple of bells, there's probably going to be another dozen or so games. Since this is day one, everyone interested gets to play, and moving on to tomorrow's games comes down to how many matches you win.”
“Hm…” Nomin took a moment to think. She then looked at the now empty seats at the kharaqiq board they had been watching. “So then the person who lost during the match we just watched still has an opportunity to advance to the next round?”
“That's correct,” Arasen confirmed. He then shifted into a standing position, placing his hands on his hips. “Tomorrow's rules also change, but only slightly. Instead of having a bunch of matches throughout the day, tomorrow, everyone is only going to have three matches that more quickly narrows down the numbers. Today is more about fun and seeing if you qualify.”
“That's…pretty neat, actually,” Nomin admitted. She thought more about the culture that centered around playing a particular type of game. She supposed it made sense that there would be opportunities to face everyone and even learn something new from the other members of the tribe. The knowledge also made the amicable exchange at the end of the game much more respectable.
“Do you want to try playing a game?”
The question caught Nomin off guard. Looking in Arasen's direction, Nomin’s face scrunched up with contemplation to the idea. Would it have even been fair to have played a game she clearly had no experience in against someone who already had the clear upper hand?
“I don't know…” Nomin finally said after a moment. “I feel like…I'd lose right away.”
“I can go easy on you.”
Nomin's frown creased. She then shook her head in response. “I think I'm fine watching other people play for now. Thanks, though.”
“Alright,” Arasen did not sound too dejected by the rejection. “It's not good of us to force a game if the prospective opponent doesn't want to play. So…if you don't want to play, there's nothing I can do about that.”
It was a surprisingly mature response from someone whose first impression of Nomin was that of disdain. At least as far as Nomin knew and recognized.
In short time, however, Arasen offered to lead Nomin back to the food canopies -- if only to return the dishes she was granted use of. When they got back, Nomin was more than willing to go ahead and try more foods before she and Arasen eventually met back up with the other members of the Sagahl, and Arasen's elder sister, Sanchir. Nomin’s mouth had run with a sheen from the meats she had been eating alongside some mantuu, and she quickly ran the back of her sleeve along the bottom of her face to remove any of it.
“Have fun?” Bayarmaa asked, as the two approached. She offered a small smile, assuming that Nomin had been able to make yet another friend.
“I think the game is neat to watch. Arasen explained the game to me,” Nomin replied as she jogged up to meet with Bayarmaa and the others proper. She noticed that they were largely eating bread with jam, and stewed vegetables.
“Oh? How did that go?” Bayarmaa sipped some of the broth in her bowl after she asked her question.
Nomin shrugged in response; she had no strong feelings one way or another. Plus…she did not actually catch everything Arasen actually said. So, with that in mind, she replied, “I think I kind of get how the pieces move and how you're supposed to get the pieces in the rings. But I don't think I could play kharaqiq and have fun…”
Sanchir lifted a hand to her mouth, a rather amused laugh falling from her lips as her tail flicked upward a couple times. Nomin felt her cheeks prickle and warm, a slightly fluster arising in her.
“My apologies… That just seems to be a common sentiment shared among others outside our tribe. At least…I've heard it more times than not,” Sanchir said, explaining herself. “Of course, to us the game doesn't seem so difficult. I also believe anyone could still learn it. That said, would you mind a kharaqiq board of your own to bring back with you? I can get you some instructions written so you can read how to play back with your tribe.”
Nomin hummed in thought, eyes flicking in both Bayarmaa and then Esenaij’s directions before her attention went back toward Sanchir. It was as if she were asking permission to accept such a gift.
“It would do us well to have something that could help teach Nomin some more logical thinking and planning,” Esenaij spoke up, taking a hearty bite of the gambir he had topped with stewed popotoes. Bayarmaa seemed to share this sentiment as she nodded in agreement.
“We would be awful teachers when it comes to your game, but if you're providing instructors, we'll be glad to go over them and learn together!” Bayarmaa seemed more elated by the idea of getting to learn kharaqiq for herself. Her tail swayed to and fro as she rocked from side to side.
Nomin glanced between Esenaij and Bayarmaa, a smile spreading over her face as her eyes sparkled with the thought of being able to play more games with them outside of uichuur or khorol. She then looked up at Sanchir, who seemed to have grown a sheepish expression at both Bayarmaa and Esenaij's responses. When Sanchir finally looked back toward Nomin, she smiled with a soft sigh.
“Well then…I invite you to enjoy the festivities for the rest of your duration,” Sanchir started in response. “I'll spend the eve getting you your own kharaqiq set and instructions to go with it.”
With a polite bow, Sanchir left for presumably her family’s ger, Arasen giving a quick bow and a small word of ‘goodbye’ before swiftly following along after her. When they were out of hearing distance, Bayarmaa then giggled and looked at Nomin.
“You've been making so many friends since we've been on our journey!” Bayarmaa pointed out. “What's this young boy like? I didn't get to meet him too well like getting to talk with Arik or Holuikhan.”
Nomin briefly looked in the direction that Sanchir and Arasen disappeared off in, and then looked back at Bayarmaa. Her expression faltered and went back to a more neutral, straight-faced look as she shrugged.
“I don't really know if I'd call Arasen a friend like I would the other two…” Nomin replied truthfully. This caused Bayarmaa’s own expression to fall slightly.
“Well…I suppose we can't be friends with everyone. He didn't say anything mean to you, did he?” Bayarmaa inquired.
Nomin shook her head. Then she shrugged as she considered their interactions in the brief time they spent with one another.
“... I didn't like the way he spoke to me.” Nomin stated her overall thought plainly and flatly. She then looked back at Bayarmaa and walked over to sit next on a bench close to her. “…I guess… Don't you ever notice when people talk to you like they don't actually like you?”
Bayarmaa sat down next to Nomin.
“I notice…” Bayarmaa’s expression turned a bit sad. Though, she sighed and brought a pleasant look back to her face. “But…a lot of the time, I remembered the friends that do like me, and I found comfort in that. Because not everyone is going to like you. I don't think we'd have as many fights on the Steppe, or rivalries if we all got along…”
Bayarmaa reached over and pet Nomin’s head affectionately.
“But…it's okay to feel hurt by this fact, too…” Bayarmaa went on to say. “Just do your best to pick yourself back up and move forward. I'll help you where I can if you want me to.”
A smile slowly appeared on Nomin’s lips and she leaned against Bayarmaa’s arm.
“... Thanks, Bayarmaa,” Nomin replied. “That makes me feel better already.”
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