"Imagine you had a prophecy you're the advent of the Promised One, the Right Guide and the Champion of Light. You'd believe that, right? And if you didn't, you'd love to meet people who do." Temujin has an awkward time with the prophecy about him and he's happy to remain unknown. However, war and politics rudely intrude. Toqtoa, a shaman and a king from the Great North Forest, has watched the Mongols sink into squalor and he takes his opportunity to step onto the grass highway. "History doesn't happen in the forest. It happens on the steppe." This king with his spirits has history in his sights, while Temujin thinks of nothing but his stolen wife Borte. Is history run by fate and royal spirits? By history-makers like Toqtoa, or by accident? Borte, in captivity, cannot see her half-child husband a rival to this warlock king. Nor wishes to.