The child wandered without fear. The orchard guided more than it led. They passed the Spiral of Listening. Sat beside a tree that pulsed like a heartbeat. Danced in a ring of dandelions that blew their thoughts into the sky.
They met others.
A boy who spoke only in rhythm, whose feet never touched the ground. A girl who carried a mirror but never looked into it, instead showing others how beautiful they were.
A shadow who whispered, "You're not lost, just remembering from the outside in."
The child listened. And then, finally, they spoke.
"I think I know my name."
Not loudly. Not fully. But enough.
The orchard shivered.
A single petal fell and became a door.
...
"What will you do with it?" asked Rui, sitting beside them as they studied the unfinished shape.
"Not open it," the child said. "Not yet. Maybe... paint it. Or sing to it. Or carry it until someone else needs to remember."
Rui smiled. "You're going to do well here."
