Submission (#526) Approved

(Week 1 Submission Lumiora used with permission from Galaxy-Feathers)
The beach was awash in golden light—honeyed beams spilling across the shoreline, dancing on the tide and turning the foam to spun glass. The ocean breeze stirred softly, carrying the scent of salt, sun-warmed seaweed, and distant fruit drinks from a shaded vendor cart up the shore. Kairos sat on a fold of sun-faded cloth with his sketchbook balanced against his knees. His claws were already smudged with charcoal and pastel, soft gray dust feathering the tips. But he hadn’t drawn a single line yet. Not really. Because he was still watching her.
Lumiora stood a few paces away, the surf lapping at her feet, her soft petals catching the light like glass art. She wasn’t trying to pose. She was simply being—breathing, existing—yet to Kairos, it felt like watching something sacred. A living lullaby caught between a dream and the glinting sea.
“Like this?” she asked gently, lifting her chin slightly and angling her shoulder to catch the sun.
Kairos blinked, snapping back to attention. “Y-Yeah, that’s… yeah, perfect. You’re perfect—uh, it’s perfect.” A soft smile tugged at her lips, but she said nothing about the stammer. She let her wings settle in a half-fanned arch behind her, each translucent feather glowing faintly with dusk-colored light. Her flowers—clusters of pale blues and sunset-pinks—responded to the warmth, pulsing gently like quiet breathing. A single petal drifted loose and was caught by the breeze, fluttering out over the tide. Kairos swallowed and turned to the page before his hands could tremble too obviously.
He began sketching with slow, precise lines. He started with her profile—soft and serene—and then the arch of her neck, the way her tail curled at rest, the faint shimmer of her bioluminescence where the sunlight touched her side. He didn’t have the right color for her glow, but he tried anyway, layering pastels with care, pressing with enough softness to preserve the feeling he couldn’t name.
She spoke again after a while, her voice like a breeze brushing over tidepools. “You’re very focused.”
“Trying to get it right,” he said, not looking up.
“Why me?” she asked, not accusing—just curious. Kairos paused, his charcoal hovering above the page. The truth sat heavy in his chest, knotted like a ribbon too tightly tied. He gave her the answer he could manage.
“Because light looks different on you,” he said quietly. “It… settles.”
She tilted her head at that. “Is that a good thing?”
He glanced up, smiled faintly. “It’s the best thing.”
Lumiora turned her gaze to the sea, a soft blush touching her cheeks—but it could’ve just been the sunset. She said nothing more, letting the golden silence return between them.
The breeze stirred again. Seabirds called overhead. And in the glowing calm of summer’s golden hour, Kairos let himself draw what he feared he could never say.
The sun had begun its slow descent behind the horizon, painting the sky in apricot and rose. Shadows stretched long across the sand, and the heat of the day softened into a soothing warmth. The tide shimmered with reflected flame, and the waves now rolled in quieter, slower, like a lullaby sung by the sea.
Kairos exhaled softly through his nose, staring down at his sketchbook. He had lost count of how many times he’d adjusted the same line—reworking a curve, shading too carefully, trying not to think too hard about the way Lumiora’s eyes had lit up earlier when she laughed at a crab scuttling past.
His claws smudged across the page once more, and he paused, staring at the slightly imperfect wing he’d been redrawing for the past ten minutes.
“You’re being too critical again.”
The voice floated over gently, just a few paces away. Kairos looked up. Lumiora had turned to face him now, her hands folded delicately in front of her, that soft smile still on her face.
He blinked. “Huh?”
She stepped closer, moving with the unhurried grace of waves sliding over shore. “You furrow your brow when you're frustrated,” she said, settling onto the sand beside him. Her voice was calm, but her gaze—wise and perceptive—was gently amused. “And you hold your breath. Like you're afraid of doing me wrong.”
Kairos shut the sketchbook halfway. Not embarrassed—but maybe… shy.
“It’s not that I think I’ll mess it up,” he murmured, “I just… want to make sure I see you right.”
That gave her pause.
He turned his eyes to her, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Lumiora leaned slightly, just enough to peek at the book still resting in his lap. “May I?”
Kairos hesitated, ears twitching… then slowly opened the page and turned it toward her.
The drawing wasn’t perfect. Not by his standards. But it was… honest. There was light in her eyes. A softness to the way he’d captured her smile—barely-there, not quite posed. The edges of her form glowed faintly, blurred like they’d been caught in the wind or mid-laugh. The sketch was alive with quiet awe, every line laid down with the care of someone who couldn’t quite say what they felt—so they’d drawn it instead.
Lumiora’s lips parted slightly, touched by something tender and unspoken.
“…Kairos,” she whispered, looking at him, really looking now. “This is beautiful.”
His tail curled instinctively behind him. He looked away. “It’s just a sketch.”
“No,” she said, her voice a little firmer. “It’s more than that.”
She didn’t press. Didn’t ask the question quietly blooming in the space between them. She just smiled—warm and real—and handed the book back with both hands.
“Thank you for seeing me like this,” she added, her tone featherlight.
Kairos met her eyes, and for a second, his breath caught in his chest. He wanted to say something—something clever, something meaningful—but instead, he just gave a quiet nod and looked toward the sea. The sun had nearly dipped below the waterline now, casting ribbons of gold across the waves. Distant fireflies blinked to life near the dune grass, and the air was filled with the soft hush of the ocean’s lullaby.
“Do you want to stay a while longer?” Lumiora asked, her voice barely above the hush of the tide.
Kairos nodded. “Yeah,” he said, quieter than before. “Yeah, I do.” And so they sat there—two souls beneath a blushing sky, the ocean breeze wrapping around them like a secret—close enough to feel the other’s warmth, but still wrapped in the safety of silence.

Reward	Amount
Gold	5
Summer Daze Music Festival - Design and MYO Raffles (Raffle Ticket)	1