🌄 The Birth of Rostam – The Lion of Zabul > The night was vast and trembling with starlight, when destiny chose to roar in the cradle of Persia. Inside the palace of Zabul, Rudabeh cried out in agony—her voice echoing like thunder across the mountains of Kabul. The moon hid behind the clouds, for it could not bear witness to such divine pain. The earth itself seemed to hold its breath. Zal, the white-haired hero, knelt beside her, his hands trembling between love and terror. He who had fought demons and dragons now stood powerless before the mystery of life. He whispered a prayer to the Almighty, and the air shimmered with unseen wings. Then, from that storm of pain and courage, a roar broke the silence—a cry that was not of a child, but of destiny itself. The midwives stepped back in awe. A boy had been born… a boy as mighty as a mountain. His eyes gleamed with fire; his hands clenched as if he already held a sword. They named him Rostam, the soul of Persia, the lion who would guard the world of men. On that dawn, the sun rose not from the East, but from the heart of Rudabeh. And as its golden light spilled over the mountains, every creature of the earth bowed, for a legend had taken its first breath. From that day forth, even the winds whispered his name: Rostam… Rostam… the thunderborn son of Persia.