Nes­ryn finds her­self con­strained by time as Falkan’s recov­ery delays their planned jour­ney to the south­ern watch­tow­ers. Despite her attempts to per­suade Prince Sar­taq to pro­ceed with­out the shape-shifter, he insists on wait­ing, pri­or­i­tiz­ing safe­ty even with Borte’s added sup­port. Instead, Sar­taq fills their days by intro­duc­ing Nes­ryn to var­i­ous rukhin clans across the north­ern and west­ern aeries. These vis­its range from warm recep­tions with feasts and cel­e­bra­tions to more reserved encoun­ters, like with the Berlad, where hos­pi­tal­i­ty is min­i­mal. Through these inter­ac­tions, Nes­ryn begins to adapt to the rukhin cul­ture, even endur­ing their potent fer­ment­ed goat’s milk, which ini­tial­ly leaves her chok­ing but earns her respect.

As Nes­ryn immers­es her­self in the rukhin way of life, she dis­cov­ers a new­found sense of belong­ing. She impress­es the clans with her archery skills while learn­ing to shoot in chal­leng­ing con­di­tions, guid­ed by Sar­taq dur­ing their flights through moun­tain pass­es. Rid­ing Kadara alone leaves her feel­ing exhil­a­rat­ed and free, a stark con­trast to her for­mer life. Sar­taq ensures her active par­tic­i­pa­tion in clan activ­i­ties, from mun­dane chores like clean­ing ruk drop­pings to teach­ing archery, rein­forc­ing the prin­ci­ple that no task is beneath any­one, regard­less of rank. These expe­ri­ences grad­u­al­ly qui­et Nesryn’s rest­less­ness, replac­ing her mem­o­ries of Rifthold’s rigid palace life with a deep­er con­nec­tion to the moun­tains and their peo­ple.

Nesryn’s trans­for­ma­tion becomes evi­dent as she reflects on her past. The struc­tured world of Adarlan’s guards and city bar­racks feels dis­tant, almost unre­al, com­pared to the vibrant sto­ry­telling and com­mu­nal fires of the rukhin. One evening, Houlun, the hearth-moth­er, invites Nes­ryn to share a tale from Adar­lan. Though hes­i­tant, Nes­ryn sur­pris­es everyone—including herself—by offer­ing to sing a song from her mother’s home­land. The moment is poignant, as she reveals a per­son­al con­nec­tion to her her­itage, bridg­ing her dual iden­ti­ty as a child of both Adar­lan and the rukhin lands. Borte’s soft­ened expres­sion and Sartaq’s atten­tive silence under­score the sig­nif­i­cance of this cul­tur­al exchange.

As Nes­ryn begins to sing, her voice res­onates through the Moun­tain-Hall of Altun, weav­ing a tapes­try of mem­o­ry and emo­tion. The fire’s crack­le accom­pa­nies her, and the weight of her mother’s lega­cy fills the space. Sartaq’s still­ness hints at his deep appre­ci­a­tion, while Borte’s ear­li­er defi­ance gives way to qui­et sol­i­dar­i­ty. This chap­ter cap­tures Nesryn’s evolv­ing iden­ti­ty, as she sheds the con­straints of her for­mer life and embraces the free­dom and pur­pose found among the rukhin. Her song becomes a sym­bol of shared human­i­ty, tran­scend­ing bor­ders and forg­ing bonds in the heart of the moun­tains.