The sound of crying still echoed in my ears.
Nevin must have burned some strange herbs last night—something that made me hallucinate.
Or maybe, in some forgotten life, I had been a river demon who lured lost travelers into the depths and drowned them.
Either way, the thought sent a chill down my spine.

All I wanted now was silence. The sobbing needed to stop.
There was a heaviness in my chest—fear tangled with exhaustion.
Coffee. A strong one. Maybe that would bring my logic back.

Waking up before my alarm was proof enough that the nightmare still haunted me.
I poked my head out from under the blanket, breathing deeply.
The woman’s sobs still rang in my ears.
The Blood Moon... Nevin’s ritual... somehow they’d twisted the border between dream and reality.

I opened my eyes slowly—
and froze.

A tent ceiling stretched above me.

Wait. A tent?

The air caught in my throat. Through a small opening in the felt roof, I could see a slice of bright blue sky.
Sunlight streamed in, and smoke curled lazily in the air.
Where was my apartment ceiling?

For a long moment, I just breathed.
Surely, I was still dreaming. The ritual had messed with my mind, that was all.
But the scent that filled my nose—burned herbs, raw wool, damp earth—
it was too vivid. Too real.

I pressed my hand against what I lay on—soft fur.
And that sound again.
Someone was crying.
Right beside me.

“Will you please stop crying!” I snapped.

The sound vanished.

When I turned, I saw a girl sitting near me, her shoulders trembling.
She froze. Then, in a trembling whisper, she said,
“Princess... you’re alive.”

Before I could react, she threw her arms around me.
Beads woven into her braids clicked softly against my hair.

Princess?

My pulse thundered in my throat. I had no idea who this girl was—or where I was.
Yet here I was, letting a stranger cling to me like I was her savior.

“You were holding a wine cup,” she sobbed, “and there was poison in it!
You weren’t breathing... I thought you were dead!
I wanted to die too—”

I had no idea how to pull away.
Finally, she stopped crying and leaned back to stare at me with wide, wet eyes.
Her face was round and soft, her long braids reaching her waist.

“How did you come back to life?” she whispered. “I checked. You weren’t breathing.”

I didn’t answer. My mind was a storm.
Part of me wanted to scream; another part wanted to run.
But all that escaped my lips was a hoarse, foreign-sounding word:
“Water.”

She blinked. “Pardon?”

“Water,” I repeated, coughing. “I need water.”

The girl nodded quickly and darted out of the tent.

I stood, heart pounding. The floor felt... closer.
Had I gotten shorter?

No. No, no, no—this couldn’t be happening.
Had Nevin’s ridiculous ritual actually sent me into the past?

I scanned the tent. Furs, cushions, a carved wooden chest, a clay jug on a rough table.
And then, sunlight—
I pulled the flap aside and stepped outside.

A crisp wind swept through my hair, carrying the smell of smoke, grass, and livestock.
Everywhere I looked, tents stretched across the plain.
People moved about in patterned clothes, speaking in a language I didn’t fully know but somehow understood.

Realization hit me like a blow.
I was standing in a steppe camp.
An ancient oba.

Two armored men walked past and bowed to me respectfully.
I stumbled back inside, letting the flap fall shut.

This wasn’t a dream.
But if it wasn’t… what was I supposed to do?

My heart raced, my thoughts tripped over themselves.
If I said something wrong, they might think I was possessed and kill me.

When the girl returned, she spoke softly, “Your water, Princess.”

I hadn’t even heard her enter.
I took the cup with trembling hands and drank. The liquid tasted strange—earthy but refreshing.

As I handed the cup back, I forced myself to speak.
“What... year is it?”

Her brows knitted. “The thirteenth summer since the Khagan offered sacrifice to the sky.”

My confusion must have shown, because she hesitated.
“The Year of the Dragon,” she added quickly.

The Year of the Dragon.
My hands began to shake again.

Think, Banu. Think!

Then it came to me.
“The poison,” I said softly. “It didn’t kill me because the heavens forbade it.
But when the Sky God returned my life… he took something from me.”

The girl’s eyes widened, awestruck. “What did he take, Princess?”

I looked down, letting my tears fall freely.
When I spoke, it was barely more than a whisper.

“My memories.”