Submission (#559) Approved

(Lumiora used with permission from Galaxy-Feathers)
The woods of Layer 3 whispered their ancient songs as the sun broke through thick pine canopies, speckling the forest floor in shifting gold. Between roots and dew-wet leaves, petals bloomed where none had before—soft-glowing trails that marked the path of a healer with a quiet soul.
Lumiora stepped lightly, a pouch resting against her chest, her gaze focused but calm as she scanned the underbrush for the elusive feverleaf. Her antlers, entwined with fresh blossoms, shimmered faintly in the filtered light. Wherever her paws touched the ground, life stirred—buds stretching toward her presence like a prayer.
She knelt beside a mossy rock, brushing back a curl of creeping vine with care. A cluster of pale blue flowers peeked out, not quite the one she needed—but close. Her wings shifted, catching the sunlight in a delicate shimmer as she leaned closer.
“You know,” came a voice from behind, smooth and familiar, “I was planning to let you wander around clueless for at least another five minutes, but then your flowers started glowing again.”
Lumiora blinked once, then turned her head with a soft smile.
Kairos leaned against a tree a few paces away, arms crossed and grin lopsided. Sunlight sparkled across the glossy ridges of his scales and the bright edges of his fins, the spines along his tail twitching slightly with amusement. His bright teal eyes were fixed not on her work, but on her—openly, warmly, the kind of gaze one only gives when no one's watching.
“I didn’t realize you were on Layer 3,” Lumiora said, rising to her full height, her voice soft but genuinely pleased. “I would have sent word.”
“I wasn’t,” he replied, pushing off the tree with an easy roll of his shoulders. “But I came through to study some crystal veins for a friend and then saw the glowing trail of forest magic and thought—‘huh, I know only one flower-dusted miracle worker who walks like that.’”
She gave a quiet laugh, brushing her paw gently against a flowering wristband. “You always say too much.”
Kairos looked absolutely unbothered, smirking. “And you always say too little. Balance.”
She turned to scan the area again, kneeling once more to examine another patch of foliage, focused as ever. “I’m looking for sun-hatched feverleaf. One of my patients is in need.”
Kairos walked over, crouching beside her in one smooth movement. “You always come down here yourself? That sounds dangerous for someone with wings too pretty to risk scraping on cliff rock.”
“Every plant responds differently to the one who gathers it,” she said quietly. “Intent matters. Respect matters.”
He watched her, gaze softening, then looked down at the small patch she was examining. “You know… I think I’ve seen some feverleaf near a waterfall clearing not far from here.”
Her ears perked slightly. “Truly?”
“Mm-hm.” He nudged her shoulder gently with a paw. “Come on. Let your favorite forest nerd make himself useful.”
She hesitated—but only for a moment. Then, with a nod and a quiet, “Thank you, Kairos,” she rose again.
He smiled to himself as he turned to lead the way, his tail swaying with a little more spring than usual. She never saw the look he gave her then—fond, a little hopeful, and entirely unnoticed.
The deeper into the forest they walked, the quieter the world became.
Even the wind seemed to hush in reverence for Layer 3’s sacred heart—ancient trees towering high overhead, vines draping like curtains from their boughs, moss painting every surface with emerald softness. Birdsong thinned until all that remained was the rhythmic crunch of paws on loam and the whisper of leaves brushing against fur and scale.
Kairos led the way with the easy stride of someone who belonged here. Even his massive horns moved gently around low branches, a practiced flow. Every so often, he glanced back—not just to check the path, but to watch her. Lumiora, who moved like she was the forest, who walked as if each leaf bowed in her wake.
She didn’t speak much, but she was never cold. Just thoughtful. Intentional.
“Still quiet back there,” Kairos said with a grin, glancing over his shoulder. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were bored.”
Lumiora didn’t look up from the patch of flowers she was carefully observing, but her voice rose soft as a breeze. “I’m not bored. I’m listening.”
He tilted his head, smile fading into curiosity. “To the plants?”
“To the roots,” she replied. “To the trees. They always remember.”
Kairos chuckled, but not unkindly. “And what are they saying today?”
She looked up at last, her expression calm. “They’re surprised you’re not trying to harvest anything.”
A beat passed—then both of them laughed, hers soft and airy, his more open and boyish.
“Alright, fair,” he admitted. “I did come here to look at geodes. But I got…distracted.”
She blinked, tilting her head.
He cleared his throat and looked away, pretending to study a particularly interesting knot of bark. “By the... glowing forest trail. You know. Very distracting.”
Before Lumiora could reply, the trees parted ahead—and the hush of water filled the air.
A silver waterfall cascaded into a crystal-clear pool, the mist catching the light like drifting stars. At the edge of the clearing, nestled in a cluster of sun-warmed rocks, lay a bed of feverleaf—glowing faintly, just as Lumiora had described.
She stepped forward without a word, her face softening as if in reverence.
Kairos stayed behind, watching as she knelt among the plants, whispering thanks under her breath. Her wings shimmered subtly in the golden light, her flowers beginning to glow—soft blue and gentle pinks.
“Sheesh…” Kairos murmured under his breath. “You’re not even trying, and the whole world’s in love with you.”
Lumiora turned slightly. “Did you say something?”
“Just admiring the view,” he said quickly. “Y’know. The waterfall.”
She nodded, seemingly satisfied, and returned to her work.
Kairos sat down on a warm patch of moss, arms loosely crossed over his knees as he watched her move—each step graceful, purposeful. As if every leaf mattered. As if she carried the weight of something delicate and sacred, and never once flinched beneath it.
He didn’t speak again.
Because maybe this moment, like the clearing, was one he didn’t want to disturb.
The walk back from the feverleaf grove was slow—neither of them said so, but both moved as if caught in a dream they weren’t ready to wake from.
The forest had dimmed. Dusk bled violet into the sky, and the deeper shadows of Layer 3 stretched across the mossy path like silent guardians. Fireflies blinked lazily between the ferns, casting a faint rhythm in the growing dark. The air was cooler now, thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming nightflowers.
Lumiora’s flowers had begun to glow again. Pale lilacs and icy blues shimmered softly against her fur, trailing bioluminescent light with each step. Her wings, though tucked neatly against her back, shimmered with specks of starlight.
Kairos walked just slightly ahead at first—until she caught up and fell into step beside him.
He glanced sideways, heart skipping at the gentle sway of her stride, the peace in her expression.
“You’ve always liked twilight the most,” he said quietly, voice low enough that it nearly blended with the wind.
Lumiora gave a small nod, her gaze turned upward, to the slivers of sky that peeked through the canopy. “It’s the time when everything softens. No more harsh sun. No more pretending to be strong. Things get quiet. Honest.”
Kairos looked forward again, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You always make it sound like the forest has feelings.”
She smiled, a little more to herself than to him. “Doesn’t it?”
They walked a few more steps in silence, the only sound now the soft rustle of leaves and the faint drip of water still clinging to the ferns after the falls.
Kairos exhaled through his nose, claws flexing unconsciously at his sides. His chest felt too full. Like something old and growing had taken root and was pressing upward, pushing against ribs and throat.
“Hey, Lumi?” he said at last, quietly.
She turned her head, ears perked slightly. “Mm?”
Kairos hesitated. She was looking at him—really looking. Those gentle green eyes that always made it hard to lie, even to himself.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started. “For a while, actually. Since before you came back.”
Lumiora waited. Not pressing—just being present. That alone made it harder.
Kairos swallowed. “I just… I think the way you move through the world is kind of… incredible.” He took a deep breath letting his nerves settle. “You walk like the ground loves you. Like the trees want you to rest under them. Like the whole forest leans closer just to hear you talk.”
Her expression shifted slightly—not surprise, but something quiet, unreadable.
“You’re not just healing, Lumi. You’re what healing feels like.”
The words fell like leaves, one by one, each more vulnerable than the last.
He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. “Wow, okay. That sounded better in my brain.”
“No,” Lumiora said gently, stepping a little closer. “It was beautiful. Thank you.”
Their eyes met. The hush of the woods wrapped around them like a breath held too long.
For one fragile second, it felt like the world had tilted closer to something fragile, something real. And Kairos—tail twitching, heart racing—almost, almost said it. I love you. But instead—
“I’m really glad you’re back,” he said, voice just above a whisper.
Her eyes softened. She stepped forward and touched her paw to his arm, just over the scales.
“So am I.”
The contact was light. Meaningful. Then gone. And the moment passed—quiet, glowing, unsaid. They walked on, and Kairos told himself that was enough, for now they both found a cozy spot to set up camp, and let the night pass. Soon morning was upon them, Layer 3 appeared differently in the summer. Sunlight poured through the canopy in golden shafts, dust motes dancing lazily in the warm air. Birds called lazily from their perches, and small winged insects hovered near glowing wildflowers. The forest was fully awake now, alive and content with the long days and slow afternoons. At the edge of a quiet meadow, Lumiora sat nestled in the roots of a great willow tree. Her wings lay folded beneath her like petals, and a few of her glowing flowers had begun to bloom more fully under the midday sun, releasing soft sparkles into the air around her.
A circle of young forest creatures rested nearby—tiny fuzzballs and scaled critters with wide eyes and full bellies, dozing off one by one after being treated by her. Their injuries had been minor, their trust swift. That always touched her. How easily they understood kindness. Kairos let out a big yawn, he didn’t say anything at first, just dropped down beside her with a relaxed sigh, laying back in the tall grass with arms folded behind his head. His spiked tail swayed through the blades lazily.
“I brought nectarfruit,” he said, tossing her one of the golden-red fruits. “Caught ‘em before the firewasps could.”
“Lucky timing,” Lumiora said with a small smile, catching it in her paw.
They sat in silence for a while, sharing the fruit and letting the moment stretch. Cicadas sang in the trees, and a breeze rolled gently through the grass, carrying the smell of warm moss and berry bushes.
Kairos finally broke the silence. “Y’know… this is nice.”
Lumiora hummed in agreement. “Feels like the kind of day that doesn’t ask anything of you. Just lets you be.” Kairos reached out slowly and picked a small bloom that had fallen from her—its petals glowing gently even in daylight—and tucked it behind his ear with exaggerated flourish.
"Oh look! It seems the bees are hard at work, and I am starting to bloom!"
Lumiora let out a quiet, musical laugh. “That’s not how pollination works.”
“I dunno,” Kairos grinned. “I feel ten percent more radiant already.”
The sun climbed higher, and the two of them lay there in the tall grass—warm, safe, and surrounded by soft laughter and wildflowers.

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