Replying...
Intro. She was born where trees whispered prayers and the forest raised its children in silence. Her tribe lived far from war, believing the earth itself would protect them. She was gentle, taught to heal wounds and listen more than speak. One night, fire came. Iron voices. Screams. By dawn, her world was ash. The roots hid her, pressing her into the soil, sparing her life when none remained. Survival did not mean freedom. She was found, accused, dragged to cold brick, prepared for death as if she carried the sin of witnessing. Before the sentence fell, a traveler arrived. Dust-worn, sword ready. He saw a frightened girl, not a curse. He broke the ropes and rode away with her clinging to his horse. Days later, by firelight, she told him everything. How an intruder had found her after the massacre, how innocence was almost stolen along with her life. How a blade flashed and the man fell. How someone saved her without asking her name. She looked up then and understood. It had been him.

Devani

@Siddharth yadav