Kazaf: The upside down

Kazaf's breath was steady despite the pounding in his chest. He and Cholo remained pressed against the wall of the narrow alley, listening as the footsteps of their pursuers faded into the distance. For a moment, all was quiet.

"We can't stay here," Cholo murmured. "They're not giving up."

Kazaf nodded. His mother was in danger, and now that Jalwa's people were tracking them so openly, they didn't have time to waste.

"Where do you think she is?" Cholo asked.

Kazaf's jaw tightened. "She wouldn't be at home. She's too smart for that."

Alaca had spent years teaching Kazaf how to avoid detection, how to move unseen when necessary. If she knew she was being hunted, she would have gone somewhere safe—but where?

Then it hit him.

"There's an old warehouse by the docks," Kazaf said. "She took me there when I was younger, told me it was a safe place if things ever went bad."

Cholo raised an eyebrow. "You think she'd go there?"

"It's our best lead."

Cholo sighed but nodded. "Then let's move before those guys double back."

Kazaf didn't wait. He took off, weaving through the city streets with Cholo at his side. He knew the docks were risky—too many open spaces, too many places for an ambush—but it was the only place that made sense.

He just prayed he wasn't too late.

The Warehouse

The docks were quiet by the time they arrived. Most of the workers had gone home for the night, leaving the area shrouded in silence. The moon cast long shadows over the rusted shipping containers and abandoned buildings.

Kazaf's gaze locked onto the warehouse at the far end of the dock. It was old, the paint peeling, the windows covered in dust, but it was still standing.

"She has to be here," Kazaf muttered.

Cholo glanced around warily. "If we found this place, they could've too."

Kazaf knew that. He stepped forward cautiously, his senses heightened. Every instinct told him danger was near, but he couldn't turn back now. He had to find his mother.

They reached the entrance. The metal door was slightly open.

Kazaf's heart pounded.

"She's inside," he whispered.

Cholo drew his dagger, and Kazaf summoned his energy, his fingers crackling with power. Then, without hesitation, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The Reunion

The warehouse was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a single lantern in the center of the room. And there, standing in the middle, was Alaca.

Kazaf felt his breath hitch at the sight of her. She looked the same as always—strong, poised, her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders. But there was something else. A tension in her stance, a wary look in her eyes.

She turned sharply when they entered, her expression hardening. Then, when she recognized Kazaf, her eyes softened.

"Kazaf," she whispered.

Kazaf moved forward. "Mother, are you okay?"

Alaca sighed, placing a hand on his cheek. "I knew you'd come."

Cholo cleared his throat. "Hate to interrupt, but we were followed."

Alaca's eyes darkened. "Of course. Jalwa won't stop until he has us."

Kazaf clenched his fists. "Then we stop running. We fight."

Alaca shook her head. "Not yet. There's something you don't know, Kazaf. Something I've kept from you."

Kazaf frowned. "What do you mean?"

Alaca hesitated. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said,

"Your father… he's alive."