Tzuyu

   Smoke.

  Thick, black and acrid, curling in the hallway and seeping into her lungs to mix with the absolute fear lodged in the back of . It clung to every part of her body as she ran, eyes shut blindly with an unbreakable grip on her mother’s hand as they moved past the sound of swords clashing and the cries of dying men. The crackle of the fire roared louder with every stumbling step she took, clenching her mother’s fingers as though she would die if she let go.

  She might.

  Taking a chance, she blinked away the tears from her stinging eyes and looked around her, seeing the devilish dance of flames casting shadows down the east hallway. The noises of battle resounded from the entrance, ferocious shouts and roars of desperate soldiers with the realisation that the swing of their sword in this very moment would likely be their last.

  An ambush.

  It was an ambush.

  Tzuyu had been startled from her sleep in the dead of night, her mother’s fearful face looming over her as she tugged her from the warmth of her bed frantically. She’d been confused, obediently obeying the silent panic beginning to instill itself in her bones as familiar fingers wrapped around her wrist in an ironclad grip.

  And she ran.

  She flinched at the gleaming sword swinging at her from the side, almost collapsing to the floor when a soldier she’s known since she was a child lunges from across the hallway to intercept the blade in time. Steel clashes bare inches above her head, and she scrambles desperately on the charcoal blackened floor to get back to her feet. Her mother is pulling her again, more frantic than before and Tzuyu daren’t look over her shoulder to see the fate of the man fending off against three assailants closing in.

  They reach the servants exit, her mother throwing herself against the thick, gnarled wooden door and spilling out into the open air. They swallow greedily, filling their lungs with the night air and coughing exuberantly around the smoke tightening in their throats.

  Tzuyu hears people crying out here, looking up to see the servants hurriedly trying to escape through the back entrance of the courtyard. The fighting has yet to breach outside, and her mother slams the thick wooden door shut behind them, soldiers slamming a sturdy beam in place to give them time.

  “Mama,” Tzuyu cries out, voice weak and trembling with tears as she reaches out to grasp at the fabric of her mother’s dress. She’s wrenched into a firm embrace, knees scraping against the rough stone floor and their body’s are shaking with fear and uncertainty - slim hands pressing her head into her mother’s chest as if she could protect her if they stayed here like this. She inhales deeply, can smell the scent of her mother’s jasmine perfume somewhere underneath the overwhelming mask of smoke, and the tears in her eyes finally spill as heavy sobs wrack through her chest.

  “Tzuyu, my baby,” her mother cries, voice cracking as she presses kisses all over the expanse of her daughter’s face, “you have to go.”

  Her hands don’t stop moving, fingers mapping the planes of Tz