Maslakhat walked listlessly along the shoreline as the gentle waves sent sand and saltwater rushing around his fetlocks. With each pull of surf, the ocean saw fit to erase every step he took nearly as quickly as he could take another. He looked over his narrow, dappled shoulder and snorted. It’s like he was never here—a ghost.

The wind rustled a nearby palm and the golden bay Akhal-Teke decided searching for Yusuf was a lost cause. His bastard half-brother was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t confirm he was dead either however, and he knew Valve wouldn’t accept uncertainty from him. So he was avoiding her for now, at least until he could find a way to prove that Yusuf was indeed gone. The immense weight of her expectations upon his shoulders was beginning to burden him. He supposed as her only living relative that she knew of, that kind of weight was to be expected. Maybe if she knew about his daughter, that would change.

Yet Maslakhat hardly knew his daughter, apart from the fact that she existed. Perhaps he should be searching for Keyik or Nyazik instead of Yusuf, considering their future was much brighter. It was time Maslakhat began forging his own path, and that path began with them.


MASLAKHAT
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