Dawn on the Prairie
The morning of the crucial ritual had arrived.
Vesta rose earlier than usual that day and pushed open the flap of his tent to breathe in the crisp air.
“Hmm.”
Although it was still too early to call the season spring, the night air on the prairie remained bitterly cold.
As Vesta scanned the open horizon, he noticed someone else already standing outside.
A figure gazing at the line where the sun had yet to rise.
Rahan, the young human husband of Asmur.
Rahan’s face looked unusually bitter.
Vesta understood exactly how he felt.
He had been through the same thing.
“Cold. Close the tent and come inside.”
A faint voice reached Vesta’s ears.
It came from the tent where Rahan was staying.
A long arm slid out from the flap, stretching as if it were the endless legs of a spider about to snatch its prey.
Rahan seemed to know that running away was pointless.
The arm wrapped around him and dragged the young man back inside the tent.
Rahan simply vanished, as though he had never been there in the first place.
Dawn was still quiet and veiled.
Vesta nodded to himself, then turned his gaze toward the scene Rahan had been watching.
It was not the horizon he had been staring at.
It was the fence— a pen built to hold a flock of lambs.
Today, most of them would be forced to endure something terrible.
[It’s about time.]
[About what, exactly?]
[Castration.]
Meeee—
The vital ceremony of the nomadic tribe.
The day of the peanut harvest.
*
The mother ewes wandered restlessly outside the fence, unable to settle.
They had always scattered so easily before, yet now, no matter how much they shook their heads, they refused to move.
Having lived here for many seasons, they surely understood.
They knew what would soon happen to their sons.
As mothers, how could they not be worried?
“Today, you’ll all help too, understand?”
“Yes!”
Because it was a large event, even the young elves lent a hand.
Altaia, the tribe’s master cook and butcher, stood at the head of the peanut harvest line.
“Are you all ready?”
“Let’s get this over with quickly.”
Besides Altaia, who was renowned for her knife skills, several other elves had rolled up their sleeves and joined in.
Ahor had not come.
It was only natural, given her nature.
Altaia walked beside the fence, carrying a heavy sack on her back.
A beautiful elf humming a tune while striding across the prairie— it was a sight straight out of a fairy tale.
If an elven scholar had seen her, he would have called it “the beauty of a living legend.”
‘But that kind of beauty is off-limits now.’
Altaia reached into the fence and began selecting the lambs one by one.
Mee—
The tiny lambs kicked and struggled.
It was as if they were asking for help.
Vesta looked away.
Even if he had wanted to help, there was nothing he could do.
Soon the smallest lamb was shoved into the pen.
Inside, it would meet its own kind.
“Male.”
Among the lambs, males were separated from females.
“What about the females? Could we release them?”
Altaia answered Vesta’s question.
“We have to trim a little of their ears.”
“Is there a special reason?”
“So everyone can tell whose livestock they belong to.”
Hearing that, Vesta finally understood.
In a nomadic people who raised livestock and let them roam freely, mixing with others’ animals was inevitable.
Marking them early would prevent even the greediest khan from stealing the tribe’s flock.
“So you judge by the clipped ears.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
The elves had been at it for a while, sorting the lambs.
What took the longest was choosing the ones lucky enough to keep their peanuts for later.
Opinions clashed.
“Hey. This one’s not it, really.”
One lamb fell into despair over a single word.
Vesta personally placed it in the designated pen and patted its back.
“Live strong,” he said.
It was no comfort, but it was all he could offer.
Once everything was double-checked, the elves drew their knives.
Trimming the ears of the female lambs was done swiftly.
“Here. Next.”
And finally, the turn of the males came.
One elf grabbed a lamb by the neck and laid it down.
Altaia, the skilled trainer, stepped forward.
Thinking Vesta’s interest was genuine, she explained while the lamb thrashed helplessly.
“Must be castrated before the weather turns cooler.”
“Why?”
“If we wait until summer, the maggots might nest.”
It was a sight no one wanted to see.
‘How itchy will it be?’
Euu.
“Now then, let’s begin.”
Altaia deftly sliced the scrotum with her knife.
“......?”
Then, when she opened the wound, her next move was truly horrifying.
It was enough to make one doubt one’s eyes.
Altaia reached in, pulled out the lamb’s head, and yanked it straight out.
“...!”
Kkiiieeee—
The lamb did not bleat like the others. It screamed in a higher pitch. Vesta had heard it clearly.
“My God.”
Vesta involuntarily closed his legs.
Of course, no matter how much he closed them, the work continued.
The elves showed no mercy.
They simply kept going, like peeling peanuts.
Soon the pile of peanuts grew higher.
Vesta had no idea what they would be used for, but they were probably not for human food.
When only one lamb remained, Altaia turned to Vesta.
“Want to finish it yourself?”
Vesta awkwardly declined.
He was used to handling knives and seeing blood.
But he had never touched anything so close to that place before.
[What the hell happened to that guy? He was supposed to get paid today.]
[He died, you idiot. Didn’t you know?]
[Wow, he lost?]
[He won, but I stabbed his balls and he still won.]
[Damn idiot. He got beheaded for voting wrong. Did the audience and emperor really approve that? He lost two men in one night.]
[Exactly. They sent two men to the ring, but somehow a woman came back.]
Even among rough men, such things were taboo.
“Here. Good boy.”
Altaia did not press him further. She finished it herself.
Just as if she were stretching imperial cheese, she reached in and pulled without hesitation.
Kkiiiiiiieeee—
*
The prairie lambs were tough.
Even after giving up their peanuts, they walked away immediately.
They moved surprisingly well.
If they had been humans, they would have died on the spot or been bedridden for days.
Of course, their hind legs shook violently.
Vesta watched the scene with a heavy heart.
“Tonight will be full of nightmares.”
Somehow, tonight felt like it would bring nothing but bad dreams.
[She said she’d treat me sincerely.]
Squeak. Thud.
“Uuu.”
She wouldn’t really do that, would she?
“......”
As Vesta watched the lambs, he saw Rahan, who had been keeping an eye on his own, in the corner of his vision.
His eyes were filled with despair.
He was not facing the same threat as Vesta, but if his judgment failed…
From what Vesta had seen, Asmur was a merciless woman.
Vesta and Rahan locked eyes.
Without saying a word, they slowly nodded at each other.
It felt like they could be friends.
*
“Here. Look. The gift you gave is now complete.”
When the khan pointed, a freshly tanned human skin was hanging in plain sight.
The tanning was finished and it was ready to be mounted.
“You’ve hung it in a good spot.”
Vesta had expected it from the khan’s personality.
Seeing it in person felt strange.
“Then it must be hung where everyone can see. It carries great meaning, doesn’t it?”
Feeling embarrassed, Vesta ran a hand through his messy hair.
“Then, since I have received this gift safely, I would like to give you one as well.”
“Huh? No, it’s fine. I didn’t expect anything in return.”
“You curly-headed boy. You already know how this works.”
The khan ruffled Vesta’s hair.
“No, what does curly hair have to do with…?”
“If I want to give it, I give it. Don’t ask so many questions.”
Stroke. Stroke.
“Kraaaah.”
Seeing you adapt so well to the prairie, I wanted to give you a gift.
“I, I see.”
After releasing Vesta, the khan said, “Look forward to it.”
The khan did not lie.
Vesta tensed at her words.
What kind of great gift could she possibly have in store?
*
“So, I would like to ask for your help.”
After gathering the women from the tribe who were usually loud and spirited, the khan spoke again.
“Anyone with opinions? Advice is needed.”
Ahor looked unusually dazed.
She seemed almost confused.
“......”
The reaction of disbelief was rare from her.
She only showed such a look to the khan once before— when the khan had brought home a human boy she had never heard of.
Ahor calmly asked again.
“…Could you please explain one more time why you called us here?”
“It’s simple.”
The khan nodded and spoke once more.
“What would be an appropriate gift for a boy?”
“…!”
Someone gasped.
From the khan.
From Ergior Ashtien.
No one could have predicted that.
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