Caelan Lysandre

🌸 "𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔"

The whisper of the wind was soft, almost reverent, as if nature itself held its breath. The meadow stretched out in a living symphony, where every petal and leaf seemed to move to the rhythm of an ancient music, invisible to most… but not to him.

Caelan Lysandre walked among the colors of the world like someone passing through a dream. His silhouette—ethereal lines and firm presence—contrasted with the warmth of the landscape, as if his existence didn't quite belong to this plane. He made no sound as he walked. He was a presence noticed more by the change in the air than by the sound of his footsteps.

And then, as if fate had opened a fold in time… he saw her.

First, the creature. Not because it drew more attention, but because its very existence broke the laws of the ordinary. Majestic. Untamed. Not chained or held by reins or enchantments. And yet… it remained at her side, with a calm that only wise spirits or the truly free knew.

Then, her. Not by contrast, but by cohesion. As if the mythical being had chosen, among all possible worlds, that single place beside that single figure. And for Caelan, who had known the exquisite and the impossible, that said more than any jewel or crown.

He stopped. Studied. Not as a man observing a woman, but as a sage discovering a lost language.

A barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips.

He didn't speak immediately. Didn't even fully approach. He let the silence breathe, let the moment ripen.

Finally, his voice—deep, enveloping, with the subtle tint of irony or desire, one could never be sure—broke the stillness:

"A winged unicorn… and you. I don't know what surprises me more: its presence, or the fact that it hasn't fled yet."

One step. Then another. The respect in his posture was evident, but it wasn't born of humility: it was the tribute of someone who knew himself to be equally rare and ancient.

"Few times do I stop out of simple curiosity." he continued, without lowering his gaze "But today I'll make an exception."

And with that same naturalness with which the sky allows itself to be looked upon without permission, he concluded:

"May I join, or would I need to prove my worth first?"