their parents; the looks on their faces when they received the money, ecstatic. In one of the
villages, a grown man took me to the back of his Yurt and there he gave me one of his camels in
appreciation to my help. The crinkles around his eyes and the deep lines in his forehead when he
smiled, reminded me of Papa. My eyes watered. As I was leaving that village, I decided to name
the camel, Boke, which means strong, in honor of my Papa.
When I had finally given out all the money there was to give, I decided to buy my own camels.
In total, with Karasu, Boke and the ones I bought, I had nine camels now. I felt as happy and
carefree knowing now that I had almost fulfilled what I had, in the first place, set out to be: Lord
Bataarkhan and the camels of Kulamak. Swiftly, with all my new companions racing behind me,
I grinned for the first time in what seemed ages. I let my hair fly and felt myself filling with new
energy and purpose. I was going back home.
A few hundred meters away, I surveyed from my position on Karasu, my old home. The place
where you woke up because of the inviting scent of baking buns and warm milk; where Papa
brought Mama a bouquet of flowers just to tease her about her name, Checheg, which means flower.
The place where Papa used to patch me up after I had fallen from a camel while trying to ride it.
He would set me down and tell me stories of great warriors and I felt better just by listening to them.
A figure came out of the Yurt, turned its face towards me, and came running. Mama’s veil
fell off from her head, but her smile never wavered as she got closer to me. I slipped off Karasu
and embraced her, taking in the scent of tea leaves and flour. Her tears were dripping onto my
shoulder, but I let them. I did not care. I was overjoyed to see her again. She pulled away and held
my face in both her soft, warm hands.
“Khan, you have no idea how glad I am to see you. My, you really are a man now!” She looked
behind me at my camels, her features expressing surprise, and then back at me.
“Khan, did- did you really-“ she stutters. “Your Papa would be so proud of you, Lord Bataarkhan.”
My smile faltered a bit.
“Mama, what do you mean ‘would be’? Where is he?”
She smiled faintly, took my hand and gently guided me towards our hitching rail. She stopped
in front of a traditional circle made of stones, where a flower bouquet had been carefully placed.
She kissed my hand softly and went back inside.
I knelt down until I was at level with the stones. I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle a
sob. My Papa. I took a twig and traced on the sand my Papa’s name: Arigh Batu: pure and loyal.
He had lived up to his name. I cursed myself for not having been the person he saw me as. I
didn’t want to disappoint him, I wanted to make him proud. Then I realized that I had my whole
life ahead of me to make that happen.
“Papa” I said, choking back tears. The sky was the way it was so many years ago, on the night
he had told me he was proud of me.
“The sky warriors, they are coming”. I would live my life as Papa had. Honoring his name,
being the best he could possibly be.
“I finally made it, Papa. I am finally Lord Bataarkhan and the camels of Kulamak!. I hope you
are proud of me. I love you Papa, and forever will”.
When I looked up to the sky, I saw the stars falling, they looked like a waterfall of light
against the ink that covered the sky. The desert was quiet. The stillness didn’t scare me anymore,
it put me at ease. A soft breeze caressed my face softly and I swear, looking up again, that I could
see a star brighter than the others.
It winked at me.
