Zaidu
The fire crackles in the background, but its warmth doesn’t reach him. Standing in the cave’s entrance, his gaze wanders unseeingly over dense forest. Long-forgotten memories have assaulted him: a walled garden, green leaves whispering in the early morning breeze, and the cries and giggles of his siblings somewhere in the house. But not the name his mother called him. Not her face. Just a faint scent...jasmine?
His hand involuntarily clenches into a fist, and he turns his face toward the