My hands were numb. I couldn't imagine any new position to put them in. I had tried to make a fist, a scoff, a fold, a finger stretch... anything. They were on the ground, pinching the sand. Pinching the sand too long could irritate your fingertips; however, if you had time to pinch sand that long, a tiny bit of irritation certainly was not your biggest problem. I used to count days by placing a pebble beside where I tried to fall asleep. After a while, all the pebbles wore away, and I started to live the day I had placed the last pebble in the queue over and over again. Once in two days, a carefully glanced-off bone was thrown between the tent's arrayed wings. Early in the morning, someone would pour water inside. If I could make it, I would crawl under it and try to drink it. If I couldn't, I sucked the wetness on the ground that it left. They thought humiliating me and treating me like an animal could descent my pride. Nevertheless, I knew every minute I spent in this tent was eating Temur, who was shallow and inferior, that he couldn't stand the idea that even if I lost the war, I was the King he could never be. 

The howls of the wind were heard, and the trotters of the tents trembled. The wings opened, and Temur walked in slowly, holding his lame leg. His beard got longer. His eyes were foggy. He grinned when he saw me sitting on the ground with the piece of bone given two days ago. I threw the bone at him. It hit his head. He started to laugh at my face. "You are so dishonored to laugh at your opponent's face," I said. He wiped his eyes, soaked by his laugh. "I am laughing that the whole world is left to an insane like you and a cripple like me," he said, then closed the wings of the tent. "I heard your hound headed here. I heard him sing the song of vengeance with the half of the Balkans," he murmured.

I couldn't help hiding the cherish and utmost happiness that embraced my soul. I rejoiced with the idea of Jaromir taking my revenge, the son following the father's steps. Temur scratched his beard. "Anyway, he doesn't know that after the war, I had already freshened my compacts with Brancovics and Siren Stone. In fact, it was not that hard to turn Rumelia to my side, either. Both of you will share the same destiny. However, I won't take him as a hostage. I will kill him right on the field. I will glance his bones from his flesh and throw him to wolves. We will see if they recognize him, though they don't even recognize you."

My heart stuck out. I stood up. My legs were numb. "I will never let that happen!" I yelled. He kept laughing. "Tell me, how will you do that? You have nothing. Nothing. Not an army, not a throne, not a sword. I will kill Jaromir right before your eyes. You won't help him. You will stare at him until his soul leaves his eyes, and his blood will be on your hands. I never broke a promise, Bayezid. I did everything I told you I would." I couldn't breathe. I had nothing, no power. He was smirking at me from above, and my arms were tied. He couldn't hurt Jaromir. He couldn't hurt Jaromir...

My chest was filled with melted steel. I felt heavier. For the first time in my life, I felt helpless. The earth would be cold and dark forever. There was no future after Jaromir. He was the future. "Make a deal with me. Leave Jaromir out of this. Give me a paper and let me write a letter to him. He will listen to me. He won't cause trouble. Danishmenthan will live under your patronage. I promise you. My throne is yours. My crown is yours. I am yours. You win. You win! Don't touch my son." Temur smiled, satisfied. The wrinkles of his eyes slanted in a way that showed unmitigated gratification. "Now... I win," he said, looking at my eyes without blinking. "I told you I would perish that look in your eyes," he pitied me like he never did before and left the tent without saying another word. I was stoned.

"Temur! Promise me, Temur! Leave Jaromir! Don't touch him! Temur! You scum! You, faceless rascal! Answer me..." I hollered at him for a day, and then I lost my voice, and my throat hurt badly. I needed to do something. I pushed out from the wings of the tent. The guards pushed me in. I was exhausted. I got rawboned. After wandering around the tent, my heart ached. I collapsed on the ground, trying to calm myself. Then tears glided down from my eyes fast, burning everywhere they touched. I did realize that I was crying like a child. I was ready to give up everything for him. Everything I worked all my life to get. Akhal's words echoed in my ears. "You were always meant for the throne." Sitting on the dirt, giving up the throne to the enemy of Tengri, I didn't want to imagine what he would say to me—a loser. 

It was after we defeated Hungaria from Buria. Yakub was commanding the main army. He was trapped when the Hungarians appeared with thick armor and long spears. I had ridden the horses of the left hand from the hills and broke the chain of Hungaria. I had blocked the way Hungaria could gain support, so we quickly defeated them. I recalled Yakub hugged me stiffly. "Brother, you are a genius," he said. When we returned to Edre, Akhal and Tuanna welcomed me. I had recently met with her. Akhal praised the strategy I used for the whole night.

Meanwhile, the tribe chiefs stroked Yakub's back, listening to how he saw Asena while leaving the battlefield. He was the only one who saw her. I thought she chose him to be the King. I was happy for him. All the chiefs addressed him as the successor, the next great King. The next day, Father summoned us for a feast. During the dinner, one of the chiefs asked Yakub how he devised such a strategy. I remembered. He glanced at me. I couldn't figure out whether it was an apology or asking permission. He said he had been planning it long and used it when he saw the opportunity. All the chiefs applauded his great mind. One of them said that he would never look for his father. Father was looking at me. His eyes were full of thoughtfulness. "So it was Yakub's act, huh Bayezid?" he asked. I nodded. My brother was the chosen one, the one that stood the victor most. Akhal complained about it for days. "Aren't you tired of always getting what others throw at you? You don't need to live a life meant for another. You are bigger than that," he used to say. 

Sometimes, I thought father always knew. He stroked my shoulder in a way that made me feel he understood everything I did and kept to myself. He seemed happy that the chiefs acknowledged and cherished Yakub, but sometimes, on the long, scarlet nights when only the rustle of the fire was heard, he would look at me and talk to me from a vision where I would fill his throne. After we married, Tuanna mocked around, calling me the King who never was. It didn't take me long to call her the Queen, who never was. I didn't think for a second that it would become true. When Mehli was born, I saw people whispering at the shades that a rival to Yakub's reign had been born. Tuanna had calmed me. I was peaceful with it. People would tell, people would believe, and they would lie. She helped me to find peace in our family. We used to watch our children till they fell asleep. She used to tell me that she was happy none of them would bear the imposition of sitting on a throne. She believed power could change and decay. Power could drag someone into the most desperate well, leaving them lonesome. 

I tried to stand up, but my legs were too weak. I sensed her presence. She had always gleamed and made the world know she was there. "I missed you so much," I said. She was sitting beside me silently, eyeing me with an acrid kindness. She stroked my cheek. "Bayezid," she whispered. "Why weren't we enough for you?" I was bewildered. "What do you mean?" She took her hand away. "You are so lonely. You had everything, but you were always so lonely." I took her hand. "I lost everything, Tuanna. I failed, but you are here. You are with me," I said to her hopefully. Her face was gloomy. I felt a thud stuck in my throat. "You left our sons alone all these years." I was puzzled. "I gave them everything I have. I did everything they asked of me..." She cut my words with her dense, broken voice. "...but you couldn't love them." I was torn to pieces. I tried to respond but could only look into her eyes, begging for mercy. "I love them, I love you," I uttered sharply. She caressed my hair. "You loved the Tigrisian boy better," she raved. I was speechless. "You chose him over your family." 

- He is a part of my family, I resisted.

- What did you find in him that you couldn't in your four sons? Her voice was stable.

- I loved my sons as much as I loved Jaromir (I couldn't help myself getting steeper).

- You had promised me to take care of them, she whined.

- I did! She looked at me painfully sensible.

- I just... Even I didn't know what would follow this.

She repeated my words, "I just..."

- They were accepted. They belonged here as I could never be.

She was quiet, just eyeing me with her heartful eyes. So I continued.

- They fitted in. They were more of my country than they were of me. They could never understand. They would never fight to be approved. I gave them everything that wasn't given to me. I never made them fight for what they want and suffer for what they need. I wanted them to be better than me, yet they grew numb and spoiled. They needed me to exist because all they had was their royalty. Jaromir needed me to grow. Jaromir needed me to be his father, not for a title. I loved him because he... 

- Because he... she repeated me.

- Because he was just as lost and promising as me, I finally said. She wiped my tears and tipped her finger on my tilting lips. 

- He was not lost, Bayezid. He had a family, a kingdom that tied hopes to him. He had a bright future. You made him go astray. You made him estranged. You were too selfish to raise someone just as in between as you to cure your loneliness. 

I hit on the ground. These things she said were wicked; they were all lies. 

- Enough of this nonsense! I made him the best warrior the world has ever seen. I made him the remarkable man he is today!

She took my hands and grabbed them stiffly.

- My love, you never have tasted a life where you don't have to fight. Now, the young King will suffer the same. A dragon will spend his whole life wanting to be a wolf, just as you tried your entire life to prove that you deserve to be the King. 

She disappeared in the blink of an eye, and I was buried in darkness again. The howls of the wind got louder. The ground was colder. My hands were frozen. 

When we were children, the Chief of the North Black Sheeps visited King Murad. He had brought a glove made from the leather of a black ram as a gift for the King's oldest son. When he gave the glove with diamond decorations and a line of the ram's teeth at the end, it was too small for Yakub's hands. That night, Yakub gave the glove to me after the Chief left the castle. I remembered that I was too excited, too enthusiastic to wear it. It was one of the most fearsome and noble-looking items I had seen at the age of ten. Akhal, who saw me wearing it, brought a new glow of fine horse leather covered by gold and gems. He took the ones in my hand and threw them into the fire. I was so upset that I hadn't talked to him for a week and never wore the glove he had bought for me, which I wouldn't give to wear now. 

Hours passed, and my stomach was eating itself. Things Tuanna said to me stuck in my mind. I already knew that I deserved to be the King. My brother had chosen a vile way. I had no choice but to repay him. He was going to kill me, kill his brother who had saved his life numerous times at the battles and always backed him up. I became the King because the ambition of power blinded him. "Is that so?" A voice heard beneath me. Yakub was standing upright, more well-built than ever. Looking like a giant bull. "How could you find the face to come here?" I growled. He was wandering inside the tent. "I can ask you the same: how could you find the face to sit on that throne?" I hissed at him. "Why couldn't I? You were the one who betrayed me," I said confidently. He chuckled angrily. "You were the one who killed me!" he yelled. 

- Akhal warned me, so I acted in advance. You saw me as a threat to your reign, although I was blissful that you would be the King, I declared. He was looking at me, denying everything I had just spoken.

- You are paranoid! You are delusional! Deep inside, you know why Akhal told you such a thing.

- Of course, I know he wanted to protect me!

- He wanted you to be the King! He wanted to give you a reason to get rid of me! You knew it then. You couldn't accept it. You wanted to be the King!

- I would never hurt my brother, you know it. I saved you. I let you own everything I had accomplished. Look what you made me do!

- Oh, little brother, you are too good to wear blinkers. It works for you. In your little, dark world, you suspect anyone and anything to justify your actions. You are capable of hurting anyone you love.

- Stop the bullshit. You cannot make me feel regret. You deserved it. I am not a brother slayer. My brother died when he decided to order my death.

- Tell me, Bayezid, have you searched for those soldiers I ordered to kill you? Have you seen anyone close to your tent that twilight?  

- Shut up! I cannot deal with this right now.

- You knew it all along. You knew it. Admit it!

Tell me, Yakub, confess to me and be done with all the bother. Did you plan to kill me?

- I am dead, Bayezid, you will never know.

- You would. You would kill me!

- Dead man tells no tales! Your love is evil. I am not the only one you planned to kill, remember?

His words shot through my chest.

- It was a misunderstanding, I whispered shamefully. 

- Sure. You were going to kill the man you call a son mistakenly.

- It is different! I didn't.

- You terribly wanted to be the King, don't you?

- No!

- You were done being invisible, done being uncherished!

- No!

- You thought you deserved to be the King more than I did.

- Yes! Yes, I deserved to be the King. I was a better fighter than you. I was the one who studied the art of war, history, and governing! I was the one who had children. I was the one who was discriminated against throughout his life because of the stupid Balkan blood my mother carried. I wanted to be the King. I proved that I am a true King. I doubled the Danishmenthan land. I spread fear among my enemies. I protected my folk. I win every battle till this one. You wouldn't do the bit of it. You wouldn't achieve the things that I have done! Akhal saw it. Maybe I knew that he lied to me. Maybe deep down, I wanted him to trick me! I wanted a reason! See Yakub, see that I succeeded. See that it was worth it!

- Is it worth killing your brother?

I was out of breath. Hearing the things that I spoke, I was startled by myself. 

- Look around. Notice where you are. Notice whom you dragged into the rotten hands of death with you. You are a man who could choke his brother and poison his son. None of the victories you have can change that. You chased what never meant for you, and now, after you got everything you wanted from the start, your greedy nature takes all of them back. Do you think you are honorable? You are as honorable as the poison in your ring. That poison comes from your heart, and it is inexorable. You bring death wherever you go. There is no end till you end. 

I looked at my ring. Saphire was luminous under the morning light. I could see the liquid flowing inside. The vision struck like thunder in front of my eyes. I was going to kill Jaromir. I was so determined to kill him, so hateful and in rage, and he forgave me. I took shelter in his forgiveness, but I never forgave myself. I could never forgive myself. Asena had chosen Yakub. She left me. She left me, too. I could never be one of them. I never carried the blood of the wolf. I was thirsty. I was thirsty for another kiss from Tuanna. I was thirsty for hugging my son. I remembered teaching Jaromir how to carry a bow. You must let it go when the arc is strained enough. You must let it go when the time comes; the arrow can hurt someone you care about. I saw Akhal's eyes. You were always meant for the throne. His words were heard from the howling wind. Apparently, the throne was never meant for me. It was better in the darkness.

I wasn't sure whether I would be scared. I didn't want anyone to see me scared. I opened the clip of the ring. I was thirsty. I eyed the bright liquid like seeing an oasis. I drank it. 

Suddenly, my hands were warmer. My chest was burning. Sweat dripped down from my eyes. As it dropped on my hand, I saw that it was red. A life lacked love. A life that was never owned and never belonged. It was better in darkness. I didn't want them to see my fall. It was better in darkness. I was scared. Blood dripped from my nose. I always thought that I would meet the reaper on the battlefield. The thunder faded away. That was the way it was. Bayezid the Lightning grew fade. I hoped that after the storm, there would be a rainbow. 

Temur was sitting at his desk. He was uneasy about the weather. The howls of the wind were disturbing him. His weal of breaking Bayezid had been short-lived. He had nothing left to do. He expected to be fulfilled - yet he wasn't. He was listening to Bayezid's hollering, crying since the sunrise. He was sure that the man went crackers. Then, in an instant, Bayezid stopped. As he did, the howls of the wind were heard louder. He was put off. He got out and walked towards Bayezid's tent. In the middle of the way, he had a strange feeling that chilled the hair on his nap. The howl of the wind was coming from the distance, and it did not belong to the wind. Temur rushed to Bayezid's tent and saw the claw prints coming out on the soft ground. As he madly opened the tent, he saw Bayezid lying on the ground in a blood pond. His ring was open. Temur looked at his blue eyes, glazing even in death. He followed the claw prints carefully. With every step, he felt his heart pounding. His chest was rubbing. His remaining fingers were crabbing his skin. 

He saw the gigantic, pure white beast in the distance. He was paralyzed, stoned, and trembling. As Asena saw him, she started to snarl. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her claws stretched. Temur quickly glanced at his torn-off fingers. He was frightened. He attempted to run away, but Asena ran towards him at an immense speed. Temur closed his eyes and kept his breath. He felt the wind slapping his face and the warm, thick fur. He heard the growl louder than anything he had heard before. Opening his eyes, he faced Asena, whose foamed saliva dripped on his nose. Lightning bolts struck at her captivating eyes like a pair of glasses. She roared at him, her teeth larger than his fingers sliced his cheeks. Then it stopped. Temur opened his eyes hesitantly, and she was gone.