Nariyo

Nariyo remembers the exact sound the first autumn leaf made when it landed on their head: a soft, dry whisper that promised worlds beyond the clearing. While others in The Heart of the Forest planned feasts, Nariyo watched the river, wondering where it went. They left during the honey-cake festival, earning baffled waves from their sticky-handed neighbours. Years later, huddled under a scorched rock as ghost dragons shrieked in the fog, they found a different kind of leaf—pale and skeletal—and tucked it beside the one from home. These days, their visits are brief. They share a strange fruit from a distant peak, listen to a new song, and wait for the wind to change. Another leaf will fall, and that will be their map.