As the sun rose to its zenith, the landscape where Küntigin had cried out in anguish now lay in a deathly silence.
The hollow in the snow he had made while struggling in pain was already beginning to fill again, as if his profound grief held no significance to the ceaseless, falling flakes.
Amidst this desolate carnage, Bilge Tonyukuk watched. His ancient eyes, sharp and piercing beneath tangled brows, observed the scene.
On his shoulder, Albun, a woodpecker with a faded red crown and a body camouflaged in black and white, perched restlessly. Its sharp beak and stiff tail spoke of its precision and balance, a small presence vibrating with a barely contained anxiety that mirrored Küntigin's own raw distress.
In front of those watchful eyes, Küntigin's movements came to a halt. He stood like a monolith, rigid and unresponsive, his grief-stricken roar having faded into a desolate quiet. His vast, new body, once a symbol of primal power, now seemed a monumental burden, frozen in a silent scream.
He didn't know how to move, didn't know what to do. The immense weight of his mother's sacrifice, the torrent of stolen memories, and the bewildering reality of his changed form had crushed his will. He simply existed, a colossal, aimless statue carved from despair, unable to comprehend the shattered pieces of his new existence.
Albun pecked Bilge Tonyukuk sharply with his beak, chirping in a stubborn tone, a clear sign of his impatience. Bilge Tonyukuk merely grunted, his gaze fixed on the motionless dragon. Albun pecked again, more insistently, a demanding series of rapid taps.
"Enough, you feathered nuisance," Bilge Tonyukuk muttered, a dry, raspy whisper that carried a hint of annoyance. "I don't have time for—"
Before he could finish, a blinding flash of light erupted around Küntigin. The massive draconic form began to shrink, its powerful scales and horns rapidly receding.
In moments, where the grieving dragon once stood, now stood the naked figure of a human boy, trembling violently in the frigid air, his eyes wide with shock and confusion.
Bilge Tonyukuk's ancient eyes widened almost imperceptibly, a flicker of disbelief crossing his usually impassive face at witnessing the transformation twice. Yet, his gruff demeanor held. He simply ran a gnarled hand through his wild hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. "What in the name of Tengri is happening?" he grumbled, more to himself than to anyone else.
Albun, perched on his shoulder, let out a soft, disappointed chirping sound, then cast a pointed glance at Bilge Tonyukuk, a clear accusation in its bright, birdy eyes.
When no move was made to help the shivering boy, Albun gave a final, exasperated peck to Tonyukuk's shoulder, and with a flutter of wings, it launched itself from his shoulder, flying directly towards the bewildered Küntigin.
Küntigin, still unaware of Bilge Tonyukuk and Albun's presence, stared at his own human hands in disbelief. At first, he thought he was dreaming, a torturous nightmare from which he couldn't wake. After changing back to a dragon, he had firmly believed that was the truth.
But now, as he stood naked and vulnerable in the biting cold, he no longer knew what to do. His mind, already reeling from the deluge of Berilalp's memories and his mother's final words, struggled to comprehend this new, impossible reality.
As he tried to move, his unfamiliar limbs betrayed him. He stumbled, falling headfirst into the fresh snow like a newborn baby, helpless and disoriented.
Albun reached Küntigin, landing lightly in front of his head. With a gentle peck, it softly nudged his forehead, as if controlling if he was still alive.
Küntigin flinched, startled by the sudden peck. He tried to raise his head, a disoriented sound escaping his lips. Words mumbled over each other, tangled and unrecognizable, as he weakly tried to wave the bird away with a tiny, unfamiliar human hand.
Left with little choice after Albun's determined defiance, Bilge Tonyukuk slowly advanced toward Küntigin, maintaining a cautious distance.
His gnarled hand gripped his staff tightly, his brow furrowed with a mix of annoyance and lingering shock. His gaze, cold and analytical, swept over the boy's shivering, naked form, a stark contrast to the colossal dragon that stood there moments before.
"What... are you?" Bilge Tonyukuk rasped, his voice rough like grinding stones, devoid of warmth or empathy, yet tinged with undeniable curiosity.
Küntigin, annoyed by the question and still reeling from the chaos, managed only a jumble of raw, guttural sounds, the words tripping over each other, barely recognizable as speech. "Dr-dr-dragon!" he tried to force out, the single word a testament to his fractured mind, desperate to assert his true nature.
Bilge Tonyukuk's eyes narrowed, a dry, humorless chuckle rumbling in his chest. "A dragon, you say? Last I checked, dragons don't typically shiver naked in the snow with two limbs, lad. You look like nothing more than a bird, plucked from its feathers."
At Tonyukuk's words, Albun, who had just nudged Küntigin's forehead, immediately ruffled his own feathers, letting out a sharp, indignant squawk. The woodpecker shot a glare at Bilge Tonyukuk, a clear sign of offense at the comparison.
Unfazed by Albun's touchy attitude, Bilge Tonyukuk's gaze remained fixed on Küntigin. He noted the boy's disoriented state, the tangled words struggling to form.
With a resigned sigh, as if this was yet another burden placed upon him, he raised his gnarled staff. The tip, still rooted and organic, gently touched Küntigin's forehead.
A soft, green light pulsed from the contact point, swirling into existence above Küntigin's head. In moments, a crown of vibrant magenta flowers, crafted from pure mana, appeared, settling gently onto his long and snow-dusted hair.
At that instant, a clear, sharp voice echoed directly in Bilge Tonyukuk's mind, untangled by Küntigin's physical distress. 'What is this grumpy, dirty old man doing? Instead of helping me, is he with those attackers?'
Under this telepathic remark, Bilge Tonyukuk's brow furrowed deeper, a flash of genuine anger sparking in his ancient eyes. He remained silent, choosing not to address the boy's insult directly.
His appearance, too, seemed to darken, now that he was closer. His long, thick hair was a tangled mass like wild vines, its color the deep, rich brown of forest earth. His skin, deeply furrowed with countless wrinkles like the bark of an ancient tree, now had a visible layer of dirt, making its hue a tone darker. This added griminess only enhanced his already forbidding countenance.
"Now I can hear your thoughts, just like that insolent remark you just sent. So, speak now, what are you? A Susulu? No, those are all girls and can't transform into dragons. And what about those attackers?"
Küntigin, momentarily embarrassed by his unfiltered thoughts being heard, gathered his fractured will. His voice, though still telepathic, held a raw determination. 'Like I said, I am a dragon, son of Karasungur. Even I don't know how I ended up in this... this body."
Upon hearing the name 'Karasungur,' a profound shift occurred in Bilge Tonyukuk's demeanor. The annoyance in his eyes vanished, replaced by a deep, almost reverent seriousness.
Karasungur was no mere dragon; he was at the very pinnacle of their kind, the undisputed ruler of dragons. More than that, he was a revered figure, almost a supreme arbiter among various races, holding a status far superior to many of their leaders, even if he didn't directly command them.
Bilge Tonyukuk's grip on his staff instinctively tightened, but now it was out of respect, not caution. His ancient eyes, once annoyed, now held a newfound, cautious respect as he regarded the shivering boy.
Just as Küntigin was about to press further about the attackers, Albun swiftly flew towards the sky. After a breath of time, faint, ominous noises could be heard from far away.
After flying a bit more Albun returned to Bilge Tonyukuk's shoulder and chirped something into his ear, things that Küntigin couldn't understand, but Tonyukuk's posture visibly stiffened. His gaze, now alert, snapped towards the direction of the sounds.
"Sigh," Bilge Tonyukuk uttered, his normal gruff demeanor returning, though laced with a hint of grim resignation. "What a perfectly terrible day to be alive."
He turned back to Küntigin. Now that he knew this boy was the son of Karasungur, he couldn't possibly leave him here. If he did, and Karasungur ever learned of it, he would surely meet his end by the dragon king's black flames.
"Get up, lad!" Bilge Tonyukuk commanded, but he didn't wait. He seized Küntigin's arm, and with a swift motion of his staff, he conjured a makeshift sling made of sturdy vines and leaves, wrapping it securely around his back, ready to carry the boy. With a grunt, he hauled Küntigin onto his shoulders.
Küntigin, still disoriented and unaware of the immediate danger, protested telepathically. 'What are you doing now? Are you with those attackers?'
The annoyed and genuinely angry Bilge Tonyukuk growled into Küntigin's mind. "I am carrying you on my back, you ungrateful wretch, and you accuse me of attacking you? Like that isn't enough, you also accuse me of being with your attackers?"
He glanced back over his shoulder. There were nearly fifteen figures rapidly approaching, their silhouettes growing clearer against the snowy landscape. "I don't know what or who attacked you, boy, but I guess they're here to finish what they started. So, be quiet and grateful!"
As he broke into a run, carrying Küntigin on his back, Bilge Tonyukuk pointed his staff behind them. A wave of blue light rippled through the air, and the fresh snowfall behind their retreating figures shimmered, then vanished as if it had never been disturbed. Every footprint, every small mark of their passage, was meticulously erased by the subtle magic.
Simultaneously, Albun flew high into the air, observing their pursuers from above.
Unlike Bilge Tonyukuk's initial assumption, their target wasn't the old mage and the strange boy; it was the collapsed cavern.
The approaching figures, lacking any truly powerful mages or aura users among them, remained oblivious to Bilge Tonyukuk and Küntigin's presence.
By the time the approaching figures reached the desolate cavern, Bilge Tonyukuk and Küntigin were already far from the chaotic scene.