About a week after the deadly wrath of the sun, the dispersing storm clouds revealed a breathtaking landscape—the rebirth of nature.
Yet, because most animals had either fled or perished in the scorching heat, the beautiful forest now lay shrouded in a deathly silence.
At that moment, Kutbike slowly began to open her eyes. The last memories before she fainted came rushing back, and the peace on her face turned instantly to horror.
A heart-wrenching scream pierced the forest's silence "Ahh!... My baby! Taken before it even saw the light of day!"
She dug her claws into the cave floor and looked up, spitting hatred at the sky "May your light die out, you cursed ball of fire!!"
There was no trace of her former nobility now.
Hearing the cries, Baksı Kurgana dropped the fruits she had gathered and rushed toward the cave.
As she approached to comfort her; Kutbike, lost in grief, accidentally flung her across the cave with her tail.
With a pained groan, Baksı Kurgana called out "My old friend, snap out of it! Your baby didn't die—it's alive!"
The words pierced through Kutbike's dazed mind for a moment. She turned toward the voice "You don't need to console me, Baksı. How could my child have survived?"
Tears welled in Baksı Kurgana's eye "Umay Ana protected you both at the last moment. Look— the egg is intact." She pointed to a corner of the cave.
A large, snow-white egg, surrounded by ancient runes, waited quietly—brimming with sacred power.
The sorrowful screams gave way to silence once more.
Kutbike blinked repeatedly, unable to believe her eyes. She even used her third eye to confirm it.
She approached slowly, as if the slightest mistake might bring the end of the world.
She leaned in close and examined it carefully.
Finally, her sorrow melted away, replaced by a joy so profound that she even forgot to breathe.
When she came to her senses, she looked back up at the sky—but this time not with hate "Thanks be to Umay Ana. A thousand thanks for saving my child. I will offer gifts in her honor."
Baksı Kurgana approached and placed a hand on her wing with a knowing smile "Congratulations, my dear friend. May the child's life be blessed, hir fame match her father's—though may hir personality be nothing like his."
With a guilty expression, Kutbike bowed her head "Forgive me for striking you, Baksı Kurgana. I lost myself. I hope you're not hurt."
"Don't worry. These old bones aren't that fragile." She turned to the egg "But now, it's time to crack the shell. The little one has rested long enough."
Kutbike nodded "Then let's begin. Are Karasungur's flames safe?"
"No worries. I stored them in a special box." She pulled out a wooden box made of ebony wood, engraved with the image of a dragon coiled around a mountain, and handed it to Kutbike.
Once the runes were dispelled, she signaled her to start.
Taking the box, Kutbike drew a deep breath.
As she willed boxs lid opened, powerful yet heatless flames poured out, overwhelming the cave's light and drifting toward the egg.
At the same moment, she opened her mouth and released her own flames—pure white, radiating a warmth that seemed to soothe the soul just by looking at them—sending them gently toward the egg.
The egg, bathed in these twin flames, began to stir.
As the flames danced around the egg under the gaze of two curious, yet entirely different sets of eyes, cracks slowly began to form along its surface.
Soon, the flames faded, and a pair of small green horns broke through the shell.
In that moment, both their faces radiated a joy and beauty so profound it could enchant anyone who beheld them. The deepening wrinkles on Baksı Kurgana's face seemed to vanish, as if youth had returned to her once more.
Kutbike, already breathtaking in her own right, now shone with a divine, otherworldly beauty—like Aykız herself reborn. Had Karasungur been there, he would have fallen in love with her all over again.
Remaining eggshells were shed with the help of a pair of small wings, revealing the entire body.
Covered in pure white scales, looking like a miniature version of its mother, his small green horns resembling little peaks atop its head, the five-meter-tall newborn opened its eyes to the world for the first time.
Surrounded by curious gazes, it parted its tiny mouth and began to make sweet little sounds.
The women, vulnerable in the face of this tiny sweetness, stood motionless as if struck to the heart, continuing to watch it in silent awe.
The first to react was Baksı Kurgana, who gently brought Kutbike back to herself and said, "Come on, meet your baby."
Kutbike, seemingly unaware, remained dazed, staring at her child. Finally, with a gentle nudge from Baksı Ana, she snapped back to reality.
"Ah… truly like an angel. Karasungur must be the unluckiest man in the world for missing this moment." She leaned toward her child, and when the little one noticed, it moved closer as well.
Kutbike licked the baby, both cleaning it and deepening their bond.
With a sigh, she said, "Oh thanks Tengri, it takes after you, not that dark monster. Otherwise, the world couldn't handle another Karasungur."
Kutbike nodded approvingly, "I'm sure even Karasungur himself would be glad to hear that."
Her mind was now filled with thoughts—not because it was a burden but because she couldn't decide what name to give her newborn.
Desperately, she turned to Baksı Kurgana, silently asking for help. "Have you thought of any names yet?"
Baksı Kurgana scratched her head and began to ponder as well.
After such a long wait, perhaps this was the sweetest kind of waiting.
Finally, a name came to Baksı Kurgana's mind: 'Küntigin.' With a nod of approval, she said to Kutbike, "For this little stubborn one who resisted until the very last moment through the wrath of the sun and was born at last, the best name must be Küntigin, prince of the sun."
Kutbike must have liked the name too, because her eyes sparkled at the suggestion. "Then the honor of whispering the name into his ear is yours, Baksı Kurgana."
Naming is a great event; it is the soul gaining an identity, serving as a guiding light on its path—a beacon that keeps one from losing their way, an anchor for the spirit.
"Then it is my duty to fulfill this expectation," she said, bringing her cracked lips close to the baby's ear.
"Your name shall be Küntigin, may your fate be bright, may Tengri protect you, may you be good like Ülgen, wise like Mergen, and fair like Kızagan."
After repeating it three times, Küntigin's face lit up as if the sun had risen inside the cave.